A mock, sublime allegory on the havoc wrought by the sublime in art. Father Time lies exhausted against a pillar with his damaged scythe and hour-glass beside him. The word ?Finis? is inscribed in the smoke he exhales from his broken pipe. Around him are a church, an inn and a tower ? all in ruins. In the distance a dead body hangs from a gibbet and in the sky above, Phaeton and his horses (heralds of the new day) lie dead. One of Hogarth?s own prints burns next to a broken palette and a cracked bell. An inn-sign swings on a crooked post bearing the ominous epigraph ?The Worlds End?.
We've used some of the latest web technologies that your browser does not support. Some functionality might not work as expected. Try upgrading to one of our recommended browsers.
