The Sonnets of Michael Angelo BuonarrotiT. B. Mosher, 1901 - 102 strani |
Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
amor assail beauteous birth blest bliss born breast bright burns Cecchino celestial cheer clasp courtesy Dante DANTE ALIGHIERI darkness Dear Lord DEATH OF VITTORIA delight desire divine Donato Giannotti doth dwell fain feet fervent fierce fire flame flesh frail gain gift GIORGIO VASARI Give back glow God's grace grief heart heavenly hope JULIUS II lacking Thee lady light living LOVE IN YOUTH LOVE LIFTS love thee LOVE'S loved lord loveliness LUIGI DEL RICCIO MICHAEL ANGELO mortal beauty neath night nobler nought occhi pain Paradise perchance pine Pistoja PRAYER pure Rome scape SECOND READING seek shun sighs soar SONNETS OF MICHAEL soul spirit splendour stone sweet Symonds ta'en tears thankless thine eyes thou dost thoughts thrall thy beauty Thy face thy fair face twas URBINO vestment VITTORIA COLONNA weak whence wings wont wrought
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 58 - Else should we still to transient love be bound ; But, finding these so false, we pass beyond Unto the Love of loves that never dies. Nay, things that die cannot assuage the thirst Of souls undying ; nor Eternity Serves Time, where all must fade that flourisheth. Sense is not love, but lawlessness accurst : This kills the soul ; while our love lifts on high Our friends on earth — higher in heaven through death. "From this sonnet...
Stran 74 - Which made my soul the worshipper and thrall Of earthly art is vain ; how criminal Is that which all men seek unwillingly. Those amorous thoughts which were so lightly dressed, What are they when the double death is nigh ? The one I know for sure, the other dread.
Stran 18 - The best of artists hath no thought to show Which the rough stone in its superfluous shell Doth not include: to break the marble spell Is all the hand that serves the brain can do.
Stran 70 - When my rude hammer to the stubborn stone Gives human shape, now that, now this, at will, Following his hand who wields and guides it still, It moves upon another's feet alone: But that which dwells in heaven, the world doth fill With beauty by pure motions of its own; And since tools fashion tools which else were none, Its life makes all that lives with living skill. Now, for that every stroke excels the more The higher at the forge it doth ascend, Her soul that fashioned mine hath sought the skies:...
Stran 49 - O sweet though sombre span of time! — All things find rest upon their journey's end — Whoso hath praised thee, well doth apprehend; And whoso honours thee, hath wisdom's prime. Our cares thou canst to quietude sublime, For dews and darkness are of peace the friend; Often by thee in dreams upborne i wend From earth to heaven, where yet I hope to climb. Thou shade of Death, through whom the soul at length Shuns pain and sadness hostile to the heart. Whom mourners find their last and sure relief!...
Stran 3 - From heaven his spirit came, and, robed in clay, The realms of justice and of mercy trod: Then rose a living man to gaze on God, That he might make the truth as clear as day. For that pure star, that brightened with his ray The undeserving nest where I was born, The whole wide world would be a prize to scorn; None but his Maker can due guerdon pay. I speak of Dante, whose high work remains Unknown, unhonoured by that thankless brood, Who only to just men deny their wage.
Stran 95 - I saw no mortal beauty with these eyes When perfect peace in thy fair eyes I found; But far within, where all is holy ground, My soul felt Love, her comrade of the skies: For she was born with God in Paradise...
Stran 6 - Here helms and swords are made of chalices: The blood of Christ is sold so much the quart: His cross and thorns are spears and shields; and short Must be the time ere even his patience cease. Nay let him come no more to raise the fees Of this foul sacrilege beyond report! For Rome still flays and sells him at the court, Where paths are closed to virtue's fair increase.
Stran 33 - With your fair eyes a charming light I see, For which my own blind eyes would peer in vain; Stayed by your feet the burden I sustain Which my lame feet find all too strong for me; Wingless upon your pinions forth I fly; Heavenward your spirit stirreth me to strain; El'en as you will, I blush and blanch again, Freeze in the sun, burn 'neath a frosty sky.
Stran 4 - No tongue can tell of him what should be told, For on blind eyes his splendour shines too strong; Twere easier to blame those who wrought him wrong, Than sound his least praise with a mouth of gold. He to explore the place of pain was bold, Then soared to God, to teach our souls by song; The gates heaven oped to bear his feet along, Against his just desire his country rolled. Thankless I call her, and to her own pain The nurse of fell mischance; for sign take this, That ever to the best she deals...