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Updated: May 7, 2025
And first of all, to cite but a few glaring instances, there are assuredly few finer pages in the history of architecture than that facade where the three receding portals with their pointed arches, the carved and denticulated plinth with its twenty-eight royal niches, the huge central rose-window flanked by its two lateral windows as is the priest by his deacon and subdeacon, the lofty airy gallery of trifoliated arcades supporting a heavy platform upon its slender columns, and lastly the two dark and massive towers with their pent-house roofs of slate, harmonious parts of a magnificent whole, one above the other, five gigantic stages, unfold themselves to the eye, clearly and as a whole, with their countless details of sculpture, statuary, and carving, powerfully contributing to the calm grandeur of the whole; as it were, a vast symphony in stone; the colossal work of one man and one nation, one and yet complex, like the Iliad and the old Romance epics, to which it is akin; the tremendous sum of the joint contributions of all the force of an entire epoch, in which every stone reveals, in a hundred forms, the fancy of the workman disciplined by the genius of the artist a sort of human creation, in brief, powerful and prolific as the Divine creation, whose double characteristics, variety and eternity, it seems to have acquired.
There is the Renaissance conception of the antique in the ornamental columns; in the rose-window, there is a tribute to the Gothic; the tradition of the South is maintained by a coat of colours many, if subdued; and the ground plan of nave and side-chapels might be called Romanesque.
There was Viollet-le-Duc and the rose-window of Notre Dame. They took him there as a child for a choral service, and he thought it was the rose itself that sang. And there was Petrarch, and the young Milton both talking about 'melodious tears' and something of the same sort in 'The Blessed Damosel. And " "A psychological catch for which there ought to be a name. Perhaps there is a name."
Benson, his memory perpetuated in the Benson Transept, with its graceful rose-window. One thing is impressed upon us by this new minster that present-day architecture, when meritorious, is an imitation. The closer it keeps to old models, the better is the result. Did church-building really say its last word four centuries since?
Bestowing a momentary glance upon the matchless choir, with its groined roof, its clerestory windows, its arched openings, its carved stalls, and its gorgeous rose-window, Leonard followed his conductor through a small doorway on the left of the southern transept, and descending a flight of stone steps, entered a dark and extensive vault, for such it seemed.
The western facade of Chartres is plain in comparison with those of Amiens or Rheims. The voussures of the three central portals are comparatively shallow. Above them are three lancet windows which resemble windows of the Early English Style. The rose-window, beneath which the lancets are placed, is of great dimensions and effective tracery.
It was as if our realities were less real than the shadow pictures which were to live on here together forever as if our bodies, which would go away and separate, to live different lives far away from one another, would not be us any more. I could not have imagined so wonderful a light as that which illuminated the great rose-window and filled the vast broken shell of the Abbey.
The two Stolivos beneath the lofty Vrmac, and Perzagno may be seen on the opposite shore. A late Renaissance church has a rather pretty rose-window with radiating shafts recalling the Romanesque. The torrent Skurda, or Fiumara, separates the mountains Pestingrad and Mrajanik from the lofty Lovćen, which towers above Cattaro to the height of 5,770 ft.
There are two shafts to each small apse dividing the wall space, and one window, but the central apse has four twisted shafts and three windows, of which the central one is largest. In the gable is a rose-window. On the roof of the northern aisle the lines of the plan and elevation of parts of the campanile are cut, working drawings for the masons.
Blessed idea! That should be the end of her. A moment's struggle, and then the rose-window of heaven! Hell? No, no; the Madonna would plead for her; she who always looked so beautiful, so convenable. She would peep in. Let her see how she would look when they found her. Would they clap a grey wig upon her, or expose her humiliation even in death? "A-a-a-h!" A long scream tore her lips apart.
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