Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE YOUTH, GIROLAMO SAVANAROLA, PROPHESIES, by EDWARD SAPIR


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE YOUTH, GIROLAMO SAVANAROLA, PROPHESIES, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Put by the lute, girolamo, my son,
Last Line: "I burn with sweetness till I burn in fire."
Subject(s): Desire; Pain; Suffering; Misery


"Put by the lute, Girolamo, my son,
Else shall I break in tears. Put by this too,
Too sad, sweet music, sweetest son." She drew
Nearer to him, whose pensive hands played on,
Low music filling softness, longing in
The wild sweet eyes. "My son, tell me the true
Thing in your heart. You have been strange, with new
Consuming vision. Day and night has been
An agony. O my dear son, I fear
For you!" Then to her love and to her tear
Responded flame of the eyes. Dropping the lute,
"The garden is the Lord's; we are but fruit
Unto His hand. Apple of His desire,
I burn with sweetness till I burn in fire."





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