Monday, August 13, 2007

Images of Brugge ~ wrought iron

We have returned from our long weekend in Brugge and I wanted to share some images of the city with you this week. To me, this is the most beautiful city in Europe! I feel connected to this ancient city and love its history which pours from every street. I hope you will enjoy some of my images of the city.

Images of the Lace Days are found on my other blog.


This first set of photos shows the beauty of wrought iron that is apparent all over. From lampposts to city wells to garden gates. Enjoy the images along with the words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.....


The Village Blacksmith

Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The Smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.
His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can
And looks the whole world in the face
For he owes not any man.
Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.
And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming furge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing floor.
He goes on Sunday to the church
and sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach.
He hears his daughter's voice
singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.
It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.
Toiling, rejoicing,-sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought!

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi:
OK, I'm telling London that it is
NOT your favorite city. The pictures are beautiful. Did you tell Maggie hi for me?
Love you, Mom

Kristen said...

I love these pictures! What a beautiful setting for the lace festival and who doesn't love a good Longfellow poem!?!

Ragged Roses said...

Brugge is another place I'd love to visit Heidi, so thanks, again, for showing the photos. It looks beautiful, glad you had a good time.
Kimx

Joanne said...

These are such beautiful pictures, and I love the poem, too. My paternal grandfather used to make some beautiful things from wrought iron. Although he was an iron worker (industrial) for his job and supervised the work of buildings, he was very artistic when it came to designing and carrying out his creations. My cousin Elaine and I both remember the beautiful tables he had made that sat in the living room, as well as fancy gates and railings in other areas. The best was a Christmas tree stand he made in the shape of a house, with a door and windows, and the chimney in the center was where the tree trunk was inserted. This brought back a lot of memories, and I so wish I had some of his things. Hugs, Joanne

Vintage to Victorian said...

Hi

I've just found you via Kim at Ragged Roses. What a lovely blog - and I love the colours you have chosen for your backgrounds etc.

I'll be adding you to my list of places to visit regularly.

Sue