ON A FALLING GROUP IN THE LAST JUDGMENT OF MICHAEL ANGELO, IN THE CAPPELLA SISTINA

by: Washington Allston (1779-1843)

      OW vast, how dread, overwhelming is the thought
      Of Space interminable! to the soul
      A circling weight that crushes into nought
      Her mighty faculties! a wond'rous whole,
      Without or parts, beginning, or an end!
      How fearful then on desp'rate wings to send
      The fancy e'en amid the waste profound!
      Yet, born as if all daring to astound,
      Thy giant hand, oh Angelo, hath hurl'd
      E'en human forms, with all their mortal weight,
      Down the dread void--fall endless as their fate!
      Already now they seem from world to world
      For ages thrown; yet doom'd, another past,
      Another still to reach, nor e'er to reach the last!
"On a Falling Group in the Last Judgment of Michael Angelo, in the Cappella Sistina" is reprinted from The Sylphs of the Season with Other Poems. Washington Allston. Boston: Cummings and Hillard, 1813.

MORE POEMS BY WASHINGTON ALLSTON

RELATED WEBSITES

BROWSE THE POETRY ARCHIVE:

[ A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z ]

Home · Poetry Store · Links · Email · © 2004 Poetry-Archive.com