Larly !ournal ConLenL on !S1C8, lree Lo Anyone ln Lhe World 1hls arLlcle ls one of nearly 300,000 scholarly works dlglLlzed and made freely avallable Lo everyone ln Lhe world by !S1C8.known as Lhe Larly !ournal ConLenL, Lhls seL of works lnclude research arLlcles, news, leLLers, and oLher wrlLlngs publlshed ln more Lhan 200 of Lhe oldesL leadlng academlc [ournals. 1he works daLe from Lhe mld-sevenLeenLh Lo Lhe early LwenLleLh cenLurles. We encourage people Lo read and share Lhe Larly !ournal ConLenL openly and Lo Lell oLhers LhaL Lhls resource exlsLs.eople may posL Lhls conLenL onllne or redlsLrlbuLe ln any way for non-commerclal purposes. 8ead more abouL Larly !ournal ConLenL aL hLLp://abouL.[sLor.org/parLlclpaLe-[sLor/lndlvlduals/early-[ournal-conLenL. !S1C8 ls a dlglLal llbrary of academlc [ournals, books, and prlmary source ob[ecLs. !S1C8 helps people dlscover, use, and bulld upon a wlde range of conLenL Lhrough a powerful research and Leachlng plaLform, and preserves Lhls conLenL for fuLure generaLlons. !S1C8 ls parL of l1PAkA, a noL-for-proflL organlzaLlon LhaL also lncludes lLhaka S+8 and orLlco. lor more lnformaLlon abouL !S1C8, please conLacL supporL[[sLor.org. NORTHAMERICANREVIEW. NO.DCLIV. MAY, 1910. MICHELANGELO. BYRHYSCARPENTER. I. Sternand grim-visaged,gaunt, anddarkof gaze, Timecrouchesintheouter-worldof night Amidthe shifting and entangled maze Ofduskandstar-shineand half-lightlesslight, Andwith strongfingers mouldstheunformed clay, Ruling therefluenceof night and day With shape ofsunandsatellite. Allmen hefashionsandall livingthings, All aspiration andall greatdesire, The might of conquerors, the strength of kings, Theuniversal forces,good or dire, Thestardustblown throughwindyheights of space, The glimmer fromtheutmostboundsof place, Thethunderouscomet flight offire. Onedreamheholdsforeverinhis eyes And vainly strivestofashionwithhis hands, Awonderworldofstormuncloudedskies And mysticallySpringencompassed lands, Avisionofallmenbecomeas Gods, Unbrokenwith despair, unbowed byrods, Freedofall tyrants' subtlebands. vol.cxci.?no.654.37 Copyright,1910, by TubNorthAmericanReviewPublishingCompany.All Rights Reserved. 578 THENORTHAMERICANREVIEW. Everhishandsaresetwithinthe clay Tomouldthereinsomeflawless masterpiece, Some imagestrong and perfect for alway ; Yet ever, whencreative fingers cease Theirtoilat length andTimebeholdsthe deed, Heknowsit faulty, asarottedreed Whereon no lips shall ever play. Thereforeall things are shattered by Time's will, And dust, made clay, crumbles again to dust, And nought endures forever,good or ill, Not joy nor pain, notlovenor bitter lust, Butall thingspass andare forgotten all, Likebrownandsearfrost-strickenleavesthatfall Beforethewinterwind'sfirst gust. Yetisnotallin vain, foroftenwhile BeneaththehandsofTimesomesoul morefair Fulfilsexistencewithouttaint or guile Andsetshisfeet upon the upward Stair. Thesearetheartistsofthe world, whosebreath Blowsonthe spark of shifting lifeanddeath Untilthebeaconfires upflare. So wrought thehandsofTimeandfashionedOne Andbadehimliveandmove among mankind And gave him sight ofstarandmoon and sun And cognizance of passionstrong and blind, Ofvisions high and fearless, andofdreams More strange andfairthan glimpse ofsunlessstreams Or phantom voicesofthewind. Gazingupon thischildofhisdimbrain Timesawhim toiling ontheearthbelow Throughpain to splendidhope,throughhope to pain, Beheld strange wondersfromhis dreaminggrow, Beheld men marvelathimwhen they saw, Fearlessand naked, withoutstain or flaw, Theworksof Michelangelo. MICHELANGELO. 579 IL We gaze on life asonewhoholds a glass Acrosswhosesurfacehastenrestless gleams, Wheredim processionals halfhidden pass Through landswhere nofull-flooded daylight streams. Weknownotwhat weseenor by whatbreath Themirror'sfaceiscloudedaswith death; Allisbutasa worldofdreams. We are engirt with mystery; our way Is fraught withshadow:fromamazed eyes Wewatchlife'soceanwithitsfluxand sway Andofitshidden depths havenosurmise. Allmenalikeare brought forthfrailand weak, Withlimbsthatfail them, lips thatcannot speak, And strength thatserves tut sorrywise, Yeteachmanmovethintosolitude Andnone shallknowwhat thoughts hishands obey, Norwithwhat might hisvisions are imbued, Nor onwhat height hisfeettreadouttheir way. Imperishablethought, immortalwill Theirunknowncourseforeorderandfulfil Andnomanseeswhat paththeystray. Howshallwe know,then, withwhatardor'sheat Lived,grew andlabored Michelangelo, Upon what upward hillshesethis feet, How thought anddreamed? Alas, howshallweknow? Forhethat stoopeth atthe deep stream'sbrink Mayonly fromtheidlesurfacedrink Andknowethnotthehiddenflow. Andwithwhat thoughts didheattablesit WithinthehouseofthatdeMedici Among whose praises foremostitis writ Thatheforeknewthe sculptor thatshould be; Howstrovehewiththevisionsthatassailed His growingpower, how triumphed andhow failed, How prospered inhis artistry ? 580> TEEWORTHAMERICANREVIEW. Waste places and great silence, barren hills, Stormwindsthat ragethrough blackchaotic deep, Caverns unsunned, andseaswhich no light fills, Gloom-darkened mountain-tops where never creep The day's wan glimmerings, the might of fire, Strange dreamsof conquest andunknown desire, DarkunderworldswhereTitans sleep, Theseare the musings ofcolossal minds, Thetouchstonesofatrueandnoblest worth; Nolesser men may knowwhatvisionbinds Art'sbrows nor withwhat thoughts she movesonearth ; Men only seethechildrenofherhands Andknownotinwhatdream-encircledlands Thesewere conceivedand given birth. Insucha worldmoved Michelangelo With thoughtsenpeopledbygigantic forms Andceaseless phantoms thatmustcomeand go, Hurledhitherwardandthither by fierce storms; And nought tooharshorhardtherewasonearth Ofall things untowhichthesun gives birth Orwith conceptivesunlight warms. III. Ghiberti, Donatello dead, There cametoFlorence onewhostrove Tohewhislifewherethesehad led; (Butlo, his eagerspirit clove A way thatloosedall portal bars, A path that brought himtothestars Andintoheaven'sfierce lightupdrove.) Withfaultless eyes heviewedhisfellows'task Andwith sureskilland strong,unwavering hand Setfault aright ifeverthese mightask; Men say thathis ownmaster's labors, scanned By hisstern eye, wereforcedto yield someflaw Whichhisfirmbrushcould better, sinceitsaw Afairerlineatitscommand. MICHELANGELO. Florence, unwilling,gave himuntoBorne To rear andcherish.Therehestroveand wrought Andwith strongfootsteps ever higherupclomb Tillfromthe sun unearthly flamehe caught. ThereBorne approached with wondering, awe-struckface HisfairMadonnawithher virgingrace AbovethedeadChrist sorrow fraught. Beforethe might of manhood, tohimcame Artwithher girdle, whereon hung the keys Wherewithhishandsshould open doorsofFame Andentertothosehidden mysteries Whereof noman may tellsavehewhosesoul Issetunweariedtowardthatfar-off goal Which lightens ontheutmostseas: InFlorenceold a massof marble stood, Huge and unwieldy, which nohand might tame, Wherefrom no skillofart'sfullmultitude Couldfashion ought of beauty, tilltherecame ThisFlorentinewhoheldnotasktoo high Andfromthis shapeless stone wroughtsymmetry And beauty andimmortalfame. Withinthe Sistine Chapel, set apart, Fromall companionship, hestroveand wrought, Searching theutmost depths and heights ofart And seeking thatwhich no man'shandhad sought ; Vast mysteries of mancreatedinto pain, The agony of evil, theworld's bane, Man's happiness thatcameto naught. Andwhenthe years hadsunkenandhislife Turneddownwardstowardthewatersofthe West, Inthatsame chapel he wrought outthestrife Of good and evil, andthelast behest, Thelaststern judgment, whichnone might forfend, Thefinal outcome, theTitanic End, The inexpressibleexpressed. 582 THENORTHAMERICANREVIEW. IV. Howshalla poetplay thesubtlereed? Howshalla painter weavethewebof song Withwordsforwoof?Howshallthedreamerlead Greatarmiesintobattle?Fromwhat thong Shallwarriorloosetheshaftofwisdom'sbow? Yetunto praise of Michelangelo Not one, but many arts belong. Hishandsthatcutnew wondersoutofstone Could paint theSistine's triumph andcouldset Thought'simagery withinthesubtletone Of rhyme and rhythms suchasnone forget; AndhewhobuiltSt.Peter'sdome washe Who guarded hisloved city'sliberty Andinwar's grimmest councilmet. Greatvisionswere indwellersofhis mind, Eternal passions whichtranscendthe years, The laughter andthe grief of humankind, Theexaltationandthebitter tears, Thelovethatstrikesthestarsbeneathits feet, Delight, forwhomallutmost praise is sweet, Despair,thorn-girdled, andblackfears. False lightsbeguiled him never, inthe day Hesawthesunandknewnolesser beam, Withinthe nightglittered thestars alway Withsteadfastandunalterable gleam. Whatneedtofollow marsh-lights oftheearth? Acrosstheheaven'simmeasurable girth Thevasteternal starways stream. Nolanternsofthe deep,unlightedfen, Nofaithlesslure acrossthefloorless sedge Ledhimwithinthe kingdom oflostmen Whererulesthe Marsh-king. Atthe pool's black edge Hestoodunmovedandwatchedthe shiftinglight Thatstrovetodrawhimdowntoendless night In depths where no man'snet maydredge. MICHELANGELO. False passions heldhim not, norstainof lust; Heknewnot envy andhe kept unknown The sight ofthemwho ceaselesslyupthrust Hate's Gorgonhead, turning theworldtostone. Helivedin silence, seeking no man's praise, Andnone might turnhimfromhis changeless ways, He wroughtunresting, andalone. All Italy was darkenedwhenhedied AndFlorencewasa city without light; Allmen laidfromthem jealousy and pride To praise thisman departed fromtheir sight ; Andeverone untoanother said, " Thelast greatsculptor oftheworldis dead, Thelast great soulhathtaken flight." V. Beyond allworldswithinthe thought of man, Timesitsbeforehisceaselesstaskandturns Thestars that,too, endurebutfora span, The light thatbutforsomeshort cycle burns. Hishands destroy all things, hishandscreate All things buttodestruction:notinhate But sorrow, eachnewtoilhe spurns. St.Peter'sdomeshallone day beno more, The ceilings oftheSistine Chapel fade Andallits splendor withdimmould run o'er Andallits lights bedarkenedinto shade, TheDavidshallbestrickenandthetomb OfSanLorenzovisitedwith gloom, Marbleanddustbe equalmade; And men ofsome strange otherracethanours Shallwanderinthealienhillsof Borne, AndwhereSt.Peter'swasshallblossomflowers Tohidetheruinsof a shattered dome; Thenfameof Michelangelo shallbe Asfar-offclamorof an unknown sea, As whisper ofthe wind-swept foam. 584 THENORTHAMERICANREVIEW. Peace! peace ! against immutabledecree Strivenotinidle battle, for thy sword Shallshiverinto shards, and Destiny O'erruntheworld plain withher phantom horde. What knowledge hastthouoftheFaultless Plan, Whatvisionofthe purposes of man, Thatthoushouldstturn againstthy lord? Thoucanstnot say untowhatfinal end, What triumph orwhatsorrowful despair, Thineownlifemovesand thypoor efforts tend, Orwhetherthineown deeds arefalse or fair. Andifofthisman'stoil no stone remain, Canstthou yet say thathehas wrought invain Withvisions wovenoutofair? For genius isnot asthe lightlessspheres Thatmoveforeverround onecentral sun In changeless motion throughunchangingyears Andmust alway returnwhence theybegun, Butassome splendidflame-enveloped star Drawninwardfromduskouter-worlds afar, Whose coming isforeseenofnone: Andifthe sun grow coldandearthsthatmove Foreverinone steadfastorbit's reign Belostin shadow, shaltthoutherefor prove Nolimittotheshadowland's domain, Or say thereisno spacetranscendingspace? Nay; set nomournfulissueto thy race; Geniushas neverbeeninvain ; Throughthrongingpathways wheredull planets turn Itmoves upon thefierce wings ofits flight Tillfull against thesunits passions burn, Thenwheelsandthundersoutwardinto night, Beyond thefurthest planetaryspheres, Beyond the cycles ofthe changing years, Intounfurrowedfieldsof light. RhysCarpenter.