GREAT Michelangelo, with age grown bleak And uttermost labours, having once o'ersaid All grievous memories on his long life shed, This worst regret to one true heart could speak:-- That when, with sorrowing love and reverence meek, He stooped o'er sweet Colonna's dying bed, His Muse and dominant Lady, spirit-wed,-- Her hand he kissed, but not her brow or cheek. O Buonarruoti,--good at Art's fire-wheels To urge her chariot!--even thus Soul, Touching at length some sorely-chastened goal, Earns oftenest but a little: her appeals Were deep and mute,--lowly her claim. Let be: What holds for her Death's garner? And for thee? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE WOOLWORTH TOWER by SARA TEASDALE TO THE LAPLAND LONGSPUR by JOHN BURROUGHS FEARS IN SOLITUDE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE OUR COUNTRY by JULIA WARD HOWE THE WHITE SHIPS AND THE RED by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER SONNET: THE EVENING STAR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 2. THE WRECK OF RIVERMOUTH by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |