hundred Summers Pass

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Oriel window seen from the inside with a lute resting against a bench
Till all the hundred summers pass,
The beams, that thro' the Oriel shine,
Make prisms in every carven glass,
And beaker brimm'd with noble wine.

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Source:
Robarts Library, the Internet Archive
Observations:
Book illustrated, engraved, and printed under the supervision of George T. Andrew

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Description

View of an oriel window seen from the inside with a lute resting against a bench and beams of light coming through the window panes patterned with lozenge-shaped lead cames.

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