One day to rise toward height where it began,The form immortal to thine earthly cell,An angel of compassion, came to dwellWith balm and healing for the mind of man.Such life it is that doth thy life endear,And not thy face serene, its envelope;In shadows that decline and disappear,Immortal Love cannot repose his hope.’Tis true of all things marvellous and fair,Where Nature taketh forethought, and the skyIs bountiful in their nativity;God’s grace doth nowhere else so far prevailAs where it shineth through a body’s veil;And that I love, for He is mirrored there.
One day to rise toward height where it began,The form immortal to thine earthly cell,An angel of compassion, came to dwellWith balm and healing for the mind of man.Such life it is that doth thy life endear,And not thy face serene, its envelope;In shadows that decline and disappear,Immortal Love cannot repose his hope.’Tis true of all things marvellous and fair,Where Nature taketh forethought, and the skyIs bountiful in their nativity;God’s grace doth nowhere else so far prevailAs where it shineth through a body’s veil;And that I love, for He is mirrored there.
One day to rise toward height where it began,The form immortal to thine earthly cell,An angel of compassion, came to dwellWith balm and healing for the mind of man.Such life it is that doth thy life endear,And not thy face serene, its envelope;In shadows that decline and disappear,Immortal Love cannot repose his hope.’Tis true of all things marvellous and fair,Where Nature taketh forethought, and the skyIs bountiful in their nativity;God’s grace doth nowhere else so far prevailAs where it shineth through a body’s veil;And that I love, for He is mirrored there.
One day to rise toward height where it began,The form immortal to thine earthly cell,An angel of compassion, came to dwellWith balm and healing for the mind of man.Such life it is that doth thy life endear,And not thy face serene, its envelope;In shadows that decline and disappear,Immortal Love cannot repose his hope.’Tis true of all things marvellous and fair,Where Nature taketh forethought, and the skyIs bountiful in their nativity;God’s grace doth nowhere else so far prevailAs where it shineth through a body’s veil;And that I love, for He is mirrored there.
One day to rise toward height where it began,
The form immortal to thine earthly cell,
An angel of compassion, came to dwell
With balm and healing for the mind of man.
Such life it is that doth thy life endear,
And not thy face serene, its envelope;
In shadows that decline and disappear,
Immortal Love cannot repose his hope.
’Tis true of all things marvellous and fair,
Where Nature taketh forethought, and the sky
Is bountiful in their nativity;
God’s grace doth nowhere else so far prevail
As where it shineth through a body’s veil;
And that I love, for He is mirrored there.
[24]
[25]
Se ’l mie rozzo martello i duri sassiForma d’uman aspetto or questo or quello,Dal ministro, ch’el guida iscorgie e tielloPrendendo il moto, va con gli altrui passi:Ma quel divin, ch’in cielo alberga e stassi,Altri, e sè più, col proprio andar fa bello;E se nessun martel senza martelloSi può far, da quel vivo ogni altro fassi.E perchè ’l colpo è di valor più pienoQuant’alza più se stesso alla fucina,Sopra ’l mie, questo al ciel n’è gito a volo.Onde a me non finito verrà meno,S’or non gli dà la fabbrica divinaAiuto a farlo, c’al mondo era solo.
Se ’l mie rozzo martello i duri sassiForma d’uman aspetto or questo or quello,Dal ministro, ch’el guida iscorgie e tielloPrendendo il moto, va con gli altrui passi:Ma quel divin, ch’in cielo alberga e stassi,Altri, e sè più, col proprio andar fa bello;E se nessun martel senza martelloSi può far, da quel vivo ogni altro fassi.E perchè ’l colpo è di valor più pienoQuant’alza più se stesso alla fucina,Sopra ’l mie, questo al ciel n’è gito a volo.Onde a me non finito verrà meno,S’or non gli dà la fabbrica divinaAiuto a farlo, c’al mondo era solo.
Se ’l mie rozzo martello i duri sassiForma d’uman aspetto or questo or quello,Dal ministro, ch’el guida iscorgie e tielloPrendendo il moto, va con gli altrui passi:Ma quel divin, ch’in cielo alberga e stassi,Altri, e sè più, col proprio andar fa bello;E se nessun martel senza martelloSi può far, da quel vivo ogni altro fassi.E perchè ’l colpo è di valor più pienoQuant’alza più se stesso alla fucina,Sopra ’l mie, questo al ciel n’è gito a volo.Onde a me non finito verrà meno,S’or non gli dà la fabbrica divinaAiuto a farlo, c’al mondo era solo.
Se ’l mie rozzo martello i duri sassiForma d’uman aspetto or questo or quello,Dal ministro, ch’el guida iscorgie e tielloPrendendo il moto, va con gli altrui passi:Ma quel divin, ch’in cielo alberga e stassi,Altri, e sè più, col proprio andar fa bello;E se nessun martel senza martelloSi può far, da quel vivo ogni altro fassi.E perchè ’l colpo è di valor più pienoQuant’alza più se stesso alla fucina,Sopra ’l mie, questo al ciel n’è gito a volo.Onde a me non finito verrà meno,S’or non gli dà la fabbrica divinaAiuto a farlo, c’al mondo era solo.
Se ’l mie rozzo martello i duri sassi
Forma d’uman aspetto or questo or quello,
Dal ministro, ch’el guida iscorgie e tiello
Prendendo il moto, va con gli altrui passi:
Ma quel divin, ch’in cielo alberga e stassi,
Altri, e sè più, col proprio andar fa bello;
E se nessun martel senza martello
Si può far, da quel vivo ogni altro fassi.
E perchè ’l colpo è di valor più pieno
Quant’alza più se stesso alla fucina,
Sopra ’l mie, questo al ciel n’è gito a volo.
Onde a me non finito verrà meno,
S’or non gli dà la fabbrica divina
Aiuto a farlo, c’al mondo era solo.
If my rude hammer lend enduring stoneSimilitude of life, being swayed and pliedBy arm of one who doth its labor guide,It moveth with a motion not its own;But that on high, which lieth by God’s throne,Itself, and all beside makes beautiful;And if no tool be wrought without a tool,The rest are fashioned by its power alone.As falls a blow with greater force and heatThe further it descends, for forging mine,The lifted hammer high as heaven flew;Wherefore mine own will never be completeUnless perfected from the forge divine,For that which shaped it earth may not renew.
If my rude hammer lend enduring stoneSimilitude of life, being swayed and pliedBy arm of one who doth its labor guide,It moveth with a motion not its own;But that on high, which lieth by God’s throne,Itself, and all beside makes beautiful;And if no tool be wrought without a tool,The rest are fashioned by its power alone.As falls a blow with greater force and heatThe further it descends, for forging mine,The lifted hammer high as heaven flew;Wherefore mine own will never be completeUnless perfected from the forge divine,For that which shaped it earth may not renew.
If my rude hammer lend enduring stoneSimilitude of life, being swayed and pliedBy arm of one who doth its labor guide,It moveth with a motion not its own;But that on high, which lieth by God’s throne,Itself, and all beside makes beautiful;And if no tool be wrought without a tool,The rest are fashioned by its power alone.As falls a blow with greater force and heatThe further it descends, for forging mine,The lifted hammer high as heaven flew;Wherefore mine own will never be completeUnless perfected from the forge divine,For that which shaped it earth may not renew.
If my rude hammer lend enduring stoneSimilitude of life, being swayed and pliedBy arm of one who doth its labor guide,It moveth with a motion not its own;But that on high, which lieth by God’s throne,Itself, and all beside makes beautiful;And if no tool be wrought without a tool,The rest are fashioned by its power alone.As falls a blow with greater force and heatThe further it descends, for forging mine,The lifted hammer high as heaven flew;Wherefore mine own will never be completeUnless perfected from the forge divine,For that which shaped it earth may not renew.
If my rude hammer lend enduring stone
Similitude of life, being swayed and plied
By arm of one who doth its labor guide,
It moveth with a motion not its own;
But that on high, which lieth by God’s throne,
Itself, and all beside makes beautiful;
And if no tool be wrought without a tool,
The rest are fashioned by its power alone.
As falls a blow with greater force and heat
The further it descends, for forging mine,
The lifted hammer high as heaven flew;
Wherefore mine own will never be complete
Unless perfected from the forge divine,
For that which shaped it earth may not renew.