{"id":8577414168804,"title":"Moorcroft Amphisbaena vase | Shape 81\/14 | LE 38\/100","handle":"moorcroft-amphisbaena-vase-shape-81-14-le-38-100","description":"\u003cp\u003eMoorcroft Amphisbaena vase \u003cbr\u003eShape 81\/14\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDesigner: \u003cspan\u003eKerry Goodwin\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIssued in a Limited Edition of 100 pieces in 2006\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eApprox 37cms (14 1\/2\") tall\u003cbr\u003eApprox 14cms (51\/2\") wide at bottom section [widest point]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn excellent condition\u003cbr\u003eThere is a few lines of clean glaze crazing on the underside of the base of the vase that does not detract from the display of the item in any way whatsoever - crazing is essentially grey hairs for Pottery and is nothing untoward - simply part of the natural ageing process\u003cbr\u003ePreviously owned and displayed | Damage free | No Box\u003cbr\u003eGUARANTEED free from damage and repair\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAbout Amphisbaena\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003eRich and unusual colours feature on this stunning vase in the ancient style of myth and legend. The design takes several inspections to reveal its full story of the two embattled dragons. Kerry Goodwin drew inspiration for Amphisbaena, from the poem of the name, \u003cstrong\u003eAmphisbaena - the Double-Headed Snake of Newbury \u003c\/strong\u003eby John Greenleaf Whittier - that appears in full, below:\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cdiv class=\"phContent phcText\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFar away in the twilight time\u003cbr\u003eOf every people, in every clime,\u003cbr\u003eDragons and griffins and monsters dire,\u003cbr\u003eBorn of water, and air, and fire,\u003cbr\u003eOr nursed, like the Python, in the mud\u003cbr\u003eAnd ooze of the old Deucalion flood,\u003cbr\u003eCrawl and wriggle and foam with rage,\u003cbr\u003eThrough dusk tradition and ballad age.\u003cbr\u003eSo from the childhood of Newbury town\u003cbr\u003eAnd its time of fable the tale comes down\u003cbr\u003eOf a terror which haunted bush and brake,\u003cbr\u003eThe Amphisbaena, the Double Snake!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThou who makest the tale thy mirth,\u003cbr\u003eConsider that strip of Christian earth\u003cbr\u003eOn the desolate shore of a sail-less sea,\u003cbr\u003eFull of terror and mystery,\u003cbr\u003eHalf redeemed from the evil hold\u003cbr\u003eOf the wood so dreary, and dark, and old,\u003cbr\u003eWhich drank with its lips of leaves the dew\u003cbr\u003eWhen Time was young, and the world was new,\u003cbr\u003eAnd wove its shadows with sun and moon,\u003cbr\u003eEre the stones of Cheops were squared and hewn.\u003cbr\u003eThink of the sea's dread monotone,\u003cbr\u003eOf the mournful wail from the pine-wood blown,\u003cbr\u003eOf the strange, vast splendors that lit the North,\u003cbr\u003eOf the troubled throes of the quaking earth,\u003cbr\u003eAnd the dismal tales the Indian told,\u003cbr\u003eTill the settler's heart at his hearth grew cold,\u003cbr\u003eAnd he shrank from the tawny wizard boasts,\u003cbr\u003eAnd the hovering shadows seemed full of ghosts,\u003cbr\u003eAnd above, below, and on every side,\u003cbr\u003eThe fear of his creed seemed verified;-\u003cbr\u003eAnd think, if his lot were now thine own,\u003cbr\u003eTo grope with terrors nor named nor known,\u003cbr\u003eHow laxer muscle and weaker nerve\u003cbr\u003eAnd a feebler faith thy need might serve;\u003cbr\u003eAnd own to thyself the wonder more\u003cbr\u003eThat the snake had two heads, and not a score!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhether he lurked in the Oldtown fen\u003cbr\u003eOr the gray earth-flax of the Devil's Den,\u003cbr\u003eOr swam in the wooded Artichoke,\u003cbr\u003eOr coiled by the Northman's Written Rock,\u003cbr\u003eNothing on record is left to show;\u003cbr\u003eOnly the fact that be lived, we know,\u003cbr\u003eAnd left the cast of a double head\u003cbr\u003eIn the scaly mask which he yearly shed.\u003cbr\u003eFor he carried a head where his tail should be,\u003cbr\u003eAnd the two, of course, could never agree,\u003cbr\u003eBut wriggled about with main and might,\u003cbr\u003eNow to the left and now to the right;\u003cbr\u003ePulling and twisting this way and that,\u003cbr\u003eNeither knew what the other was at.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA snake with two beads, lurking so near!\u003cbr\u003eJudge of the wonder, guess at the fear!\u003cbr\u003eThink what ancient gossips might say,\u003cbr\u003eShaking their heads in their dreary way,\u003cbr\u003eBetween the meetings on Sabbath-day!\u003cbr\u003eHow urchins, searching at day's decline\u003cbr\u003eThe Common Pasture for sheep or kine,\u003cbr\u003eThe terrible double-ganger heard\u003cbr\u003eIn leafy rustle or whir of bird!\u003cbr\u003eThink what a zest it gave to the sport,\u003cbr\u003eIn berry-time, of the younger sort,\u003cbr\u003eAs over pastures blackberry-twined,\u003cbr\u003eReuben and Dorothy lagged behind,\u003cbr\u003eAnd closer and closer, for fear of harm,\u003cbr\u003eThe maiden clung to her lover's arm;\u003cbr\u003eAnd how the spark, who was forced to stay,\u003cbr\u003eBy his sweetheart's fears, till the break of day,\u003cbr\u003eThanked the snake for the fond delay.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFar and wide the tale was told,\u003cbr\u003eLike a snowball growing while it rolled.\u003cbr\u003eThe nurse hushed with it the baby's cry;\u003cbr\u003eAnd it served, in the worthy minister's eye,\u003cbr\u003eTo paint the primitive serpent by.\u003cbr\u003eCotton Mather came galloping down\u003cbr\u003eAll the way to Newbury town,\u003cbr\u003eWith his eyes agog and his ears set wide,\u003cbr\u003eAnd his marvellous inkhorn at his side;\u003cbr\u003eStirring the while in the shallow pool\u003cbr\u003eOf his brains for the lore he learned at school,\u003cbr\u003eTo garnish the story, with here a streak\u003cbr\u003eOf Latin, and there another of Greek\u003cbr\u003eAnd the tales he heard and the notes he took,\u003cbr\u003eBehold! are they not in his Wonder-Book?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStories, like dragons, are hard to kill.\u003cbr\u003eIf the snake does not, the tale runs still\u003cbr\u003eIn Byfield Meadows, on Pipestave Hill.\u003cbr\u003eAnd still, whenever husband and wife\u003cbr\u003ePublish the shame of their daily strife,\u003cbr\u003eAnd, with mad cross-purpose, tug and strain\u003cbr\u003eAt either end of the marriage-chain,\u003cbr\u003eThe gossips say, with a knowing shake\u003cbr\u003eOf their gray heads, 'Look at the Double Snake\u003cbr\u003eOne in body and two in will,\u003cbr\u003eThe Amphisbaena is living still!'\u003cstrong\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e","published_at":"2025-01-25T06:00:32+10:00","created_at":"2025-01-23T14:40:09+10:00","vendor":"Moorcroft","type":"Vase","tags":["Designer_Kerry Goodwin","discontinued","February_2025","Type_Limited Edition"],"price":115000,"price_min":115000,"price_max":115000,"available":true,"price_varies":false,"compare_at_price":null,"compare_at_price_min":0,"compare_at_price_max":0,"compare_at_price_varies":false,"variants":[{"id":45991157498084,"title":"Default 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Goodwin\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIssued in a Limited Edition of 100 pieces in 2006\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eApprox 37cms (14 1\/2\") tall\u003cbr\u003eApprox 14cms (51\/2\") wide at bottom section [widest point]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn excellent condition\u003cbr\u003eThere is a few lines of clean glaze crazing on the underside of the base of the vase that does not detract from the display of the item in any way whatsoever - crazing is essentially grey hairs for Pottery and is nothing untoward - simply part of the natural ageing process\u003cbr\u003ePreviously owned and displayed | Damage free | No Box\u003cbr\u003eGUARANTEED free from damage and repair\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAbout Amphisbaena\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003eRich and unusual colours feature on this stunning vase in the ancient style of myth and legend. The design takes several inspections to reveal its full story of the two embattled dragons. Kerry Goodwin drew inspiration for Amphisbaena, from the poem of the name, \u003cstrong\u003eAmphisbaena - the Double-Headed Snake of Newbury \u003c\/strong\u003eby John Greenleaf Whittier - that appears in full, below:\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cdiv class=\"phContent phcText\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFar away in the twilight time\u003cbr\u003eOf every people, in every clime,\u003cbr\u003eDragons and griffins and monsters dire,\u003cbr\u003eBorn of water, and air, and fire,\u003cbr\u003eOr nursed, like the Python, in the mud\u003cbr\u003eAnd ooze of the old Deucalion flood,\u003cbr\u003eCrawl and wriggle and foam with rage,\u003cbr\u003eThrough dusk tradition and ballad age.\u003cbr\u003eSo from the childhood of Newbury town\u003cbr\u003eAnd its time of fable the tale comes down\u003cbr\u003eOf a terror which haunted bush and brake,\u003cbr\u003eThe Amphisbaena, the Double Snake!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThou who makest the tale thy mirth,\u003cbr\u003eConsider that strip of Christian earth\u003cbr\u003eOn the desolate shore of a sail-less sea,\u003cbr\u003eFull of terror and mystery,\u003cbr\u003eHalf redeemed from the evil hold\u003cbr\u003eOf the wood so dreary, and dark, and old,\u003cbr\u003eWhich drank with its lips of leaves the dew\u003cbr\u003eWhen Time was young, and the world was new,\u003cbr\u003eAnd wove its shadows with sun and moon,\u003cbr\u003eEre the stones of Cheops were squared and hewn.\u003cbr\u003eThink of the sea's dread monotone,\u003cbr\u003eOf the mournful wail from the pine-wood blown,\u003cbr\u003eOf the strange, vast splendors that lit the North,\u003cbr\u003eOf the troubled throes of the quaking earth,\u003cbr\u003eAnd the dismal tales the Indian told,\u003cbr\u003eTill the settler's heart at his hearth grew cold,\u003cbr\u003eAnd he shrank from the tawny wizard boasts,\u003cbr\u003eAnd the hovering shadows seemed full of ghosts,\u003cbr\u003eAnd above, below, and on every side,\u003cbr\u003eThe fear of his creed seemed verified;-\u003cbr\u003eAnd think, if his lot were now thine own,\u003cbr\u003eTo grope with terrors nor named nor known,\u003cbr\u003eHow laxer muscle and weaker nerve\u003cbr\u003eAnd a feebler faith thy need might serve;\u003cbr\u003eAnd own to thyself the wonder more\u003cbr\u003eThat the snake had two heads, and not a score!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhether he lurked in the Oldtown fen\u003cbr\u003eOr the gray earth-flax of the Devil's Den,\u003cbr\u003eOr swam in the wooded Artichoke,\u003cbr\u003eOr coiled by the Northman's Written Rock,\u003cbr\u003eNothing on record is left to show;\u003cbr\u003eOnly the fact that be lived, we know,\u003cbr\u003eAnd left the cast of a double head\u003cbr\u003eIn the scaly mask which he yearly shed.\u003cbr\u003eFor he carried a head where his tail should be,\u003cbr\u003eAnd the two, of course, could never agree,\u003cbr\u003eBut wriggled about with main and might,\u003cbr\u003eNow to the left and now to the right;\u003cbr\u003ePulling and twisting this way and that,\u003cbr\u003eNeither knew what the other was at.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA snake with two beads, lurking so near!\u003cbr\u003eJudge of the wonder, guess at the fear!\u003cbr\u003eThink what ancient gossips might say,\u003cbr\u003eShaking their heads in their dreary way,\u003cbr\u003eBetween the meetings on Sabbath-day!\u003cbr\u003eHow urchins, searching at day's decline\u003cbr\u003eThe Common Pasture for sheep or kine,\u003cbr\u003eThe terrible double-ganger heard\u003cbr\u003eIn leafy rustle or whir of bird!\u003cbr\u003eThink what a zest it gave to the sport,\u003cbr\u003eIn berry-time, of the younger sort,\u003cbr\u003eAs over pastures blackberry-twined,\u003cbr\u003eReuben and Dorothy lagged behind,\u003cbr\u003eAnd closer and closer, for fear of harm,\u003cbr\u003eThe maiden clung to her lover's arm;\u003cbr\u003eAnd how the spark, who was forced to stay,\u003cbr\u003eBy his sweetheart's fears, till the break of day,\u003cbr\u003eThanked the snake for the fond delay.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFar and wide the tale was told,\u003cbr\u003eLike a snowball growing while it rolled.\u003cbr\u003eThe nurse hushed with it the baby's cry;\u003cbr\u003eAnd it served, in the worthy minister's eye,\u003cbr\u003eTo paint the primitive serpent by.\u003cbr\u003eCotton Mather came galloping down\u003cbr\u003eAll the way to Newbury town,\u003cbr\u003eWith his eyes agog and his ears set wide,\u003cbr\u003eAnd his marvellous inkhorn at his side;\u003cbr\u003eStirring the while in the shallow pool\u003cbr\u003eOf his brains for the lore he learned at school,\u003cbr\u003eTo garnish the story, with here a streak\u003cbr\u003eOf Latin, and there another of Greek\u003cbr\u003eAnd the tales he heard and the notes he took,\u003cbr\u003eBehold! are they not in his Wonder-Book?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStories, like dragons, are hard to kill.\u003cbr\u003eIf the snake does not, the tale runs still\u003cbr\u003eIn Byfield Meadows, on Pipestave Hill.\u003cbr\u003eAnd still, whenever husband and wife\u003cbr\u003ePublish the shame of their daily strife,\u003cbr\u003eAnd, with mad cross-purpose, tug and strain\u003cbr\u003eAt either end of the marriage-chain,\u003cbr\u003eThe gossips say, with a knowing shake\u003cbr\u003eOf their gray heads, 'Look at the Double Snake\u003cbr\u003eOne in body and two in will,\u003cbr\u003eThe Amphisbaena is living still!'\u003cstrong\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e"}