Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ON THE PICTURE OF AN ANGEL BY FRA ANGELICO, by DIGBY MACKWORTH DOLBEN Poet's Biography First Line: Press each on each, sweet wings, and roof me in Last Line: To rest me in a fairer italy. Alternate Author Name(s): Dolben, Digby Augustus Stewart Mackworth Subject(s): Angelico, Fra (1400-1455); Angels; Italy; Paintings & Painters; Guido Di Pietro; Italians | ||||||||
PRESS each on each, sweet wings, and roof me in Some closed cell to hold my weariness, Desired -- as from unshadowed plains to win The palmy gloaming of the oases: Glad wings, that floated ere the suns arose Down pillared lines of ever-fruited trees, Where thro' the many-gladed leafage flows The uncreated noon of Paradise: Soft wings, in contemplation oftentime Stretched on the ocean-depths that drown desire, Where lightening tides in never-falling chime Ring round the angel isles in glass and fire: From meadow-lands that sleep beyond the stars, From lilied woods and waves the blessed see, Pass, bird of God, ah pass the golden bars, And in thy fair compassion pity me. O for the garden city of the Flower, Of jewelled Italy the chosen gem, Where angels and Giotto dreamed a tower In beauty as of New Jerusalem: For there, when roseate as a winged cloud Upon the saffron of the paling east -- A glowing pillar in the House of God -- That tower was born, the Very Loveliest, Then shaking wings, and voices then that sang, Passed up and down the chased jasper wall, And through the crystal traceries outrang, As when from deep to deep the seraphs call. O for the valley slopes which Arno cleaves With arrowy heads of gold unceasingly, Parting the twilight of the grey-green leaves As shafted sungleam on a rain-cloud sky: For there, more white than mists of bloom above When sunset kindles Luni's vineyard height, Strange Presences have paced the olive grove, And dazed the cypress cloister into light. But not for me the angel-haunted South: I spread my hands across the unlovely plain, I faint for beauty in the daily drouth Of beauty, as the fields for August rain. Yet hope is mine against some Eastern dawn, Not in a vision but reality, To see thy wings, and in thine arms upborne, To rest me in a fairer Italy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...1851: A MESSAGE TO DENMARK HILL by RICHARD HOWARD TONIGHT THE HEART-SHAPED LEAVES by JAN HELLER LEVI JEWISH GRAVEYARDS, ITALY by PHILIP LEVINE SAILING HOME FROM RAPALLO by ROBERT LOWELL SUNLIGHT AND SHADOW by LISEL MUELLER HOW DUKE VALENTINE CONTRIVED by BASIL BUNTING FRAGMENTS FROM ITALY: 1 by JOHN CIARDI A LETTER by DIGBY MACKWORTH DOLBEN |
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