Mirror of ages. No more exquisite thing can be conceived than the intricate enmeshment of poetry and design, a delicate web drifting in tangled breeze, shimmering in reflection upon rippled waters, a silver question wavering and intricate, each thread ripe with patient purpose and beauty, ripe is she, this child of the ages. Within the present an image stretches, a hand and palm upturned to welcome and nourish, in kindness, so is the bounty time has...