THE DOOM OF BEAUTY
by: Michelangelo Buonarroti
- HOICE soul,
in whom, as in a glass, we see,
- Mirrored in thy pure form and delicate,
- What beauties heaven and nature can create,
- The paragon of all their works to be!
- Fair soul, in whom love, pity, piety,
- Have found a home, as from thy outward state
- We clearly read, and are so rare and great
- That they adorn none other like to thee!
- Love takes me captive; beauty binds my soul;
- Pity and mercy with their gentle eyes
- Wake in my heart a hope that cannot cheat.
- What law, what destiny, what fell control,
- What cruelty, or late or soon, denies
- That death should spare perfection so complete?
MORE POEMS BY MICHELANGELO
This English translation of "The
Doom of Beauty" was composed by John Addington Symonds (1840-1893).