allaboutmary:

Maria SS. Addolorata
A vintage holy card of the statue of Our Lady of Sorrows in the church of Santa Brigida, Naples.

allaboutmary:

Maria SS. Addolorata

A vintage holy card of the statue of Our Lady of Sorrows in the church of Santa Brigida, Naples.

(Source: amporeon, via zweifelhefty)

centuriespast:

Lady Hamilton As “Medea”, c. 1786

George Romney
English, 1734-1802
Oil on canvas
29-1/4 x 25-1/4 in. (74.3 x 64.1 cm)
The Norton Simon Foundation

centuriespast:

Lady Hamilton As “Medea”, c. 1786

George Romney

English, 1734-1802

Oil on canvas

29-1/4 x 25-1/4 in. (74.3 x 64.1 cm)

The Norton Simon Foundation

(via epper98)

(Source: magictransistor, via benhayward)

(Source: weheartit.com, via benhayward)

magictransistor:

Biblical engraving depicting Solomon’s Temple (בֵּית־הַמִּקְדָּשׁ), c. 1660.

magictransistor:

Biblical engraving depicting Solomon’s Temple (בֵּית־הַמִּקְדָּשׁ), c. 1660.

jeannepompadour:

Christ carrying the Cross and Veronica with the Sudarium by Derick Baegert, 1477-78

jeannepompadour:

Christ carrying the Cross and Veronica with the Sudarium by Derick Baegert, 1477-78

John Donne, Good Friday, 1613, Riding Westward

stfrancis:

LET mans Soule be a Spheare, and then, in this,
 The intelligence that moves, devotion is,
 And as the other Spheares, by being growne
 Subject to forraigne motions, lose their owne,
 And being by others hurried every day,
 Scarce in a yeare their naturall forme obey:
 Pleasure or business, so, our Soules admit
 For their first mover, and are whirld by it.
 Hence is’t, that I am carryed towards the West
 This day, when my Soules forme bends toward the East.
 There I should see a Sunne, by rising set,
 And by that setting endlesse day beget;
 But that Christ on this Crosse, did rise and fall,
 Sinne had eternally benighted all.
 Yet dare I’almost be glad, I do not see
 That spectacle of too much weight for mee.
 Who sees Gods face, that is selfe life, must dye;
 What a death were it then to see God dye?
 It made his owne Lieutenant Nature shrinke,
 It made his footstoole crack, and the Sunne winke.
 Could I behold those hands which span the Poles,
 And turne all spheares at once, peirc’d with those holes?
 Could I behold that endlesse height which is
 Zenith to us, and our Antipodes,
 Humbled below us? or that blood which is
 The seat of all our Soules, if not of his,
 Made durt of dust, or that flesh which was worne
 By God, for his apparell, rag’d, and torne?
 If on these things I durst not looke, durst I
 Upon his miserable mother cast mine eye,
 Who was Gods partner here, and furnish’d thus
 Halfe of that Sacrifice, which ransom’d us?
 Though these things, as I ride, be from mine eye,
 They’are present yet unto my memory,
 For that looks towards them; and thou look’st towards mee,
 O Saviour, as thou hang’st upon the tree
 I turne my backe to thee, but to receive
 Corrections, till thy mercies bid thee leave.
 O thinke mee worth thine anger, punish mee,
 Burne off my rusts, and my deformity,
 Restore thine Image, so much, by thy grace,
 That thou may’st know mee, and I’ll turne my face.

 —John Donne, *Good Friday, 1613, Riding Westward*

(via my-ear-trumpet)

russian-style:

Mikhail Nesterov - Crucifixion

russian-style:

Mikhail Nesterov - Crucifixion

tierradentro:

“Golgotha”, 1900, Edvard Munch.

For Good Friday.

tierradentro:

Golgotha”, 1900, Edvard Munch.

For Good Friday.