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...GRAND ARMY PLAZA by KAREN SWENSON TO A FRIEND by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS ROCK ME TO SLEEP by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK by ROBERT HERRICK LAMENT by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY LAUS VENERIS (A PICTURE BY BURNE-JONES) by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN by CAROLINA OLIPHANT NAIRNE VERSES ON SEEING THE SPEAKER ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED |