Quotes Michelangelo (C Guasti, ed.), Rime. 1863 [c. 1542-1623].
Description:

Symonds' article consists in translations of Michelangelo's poetry, from Guasti's edition.

Quoted by Walter Pater, Studies in the History of the Rennaissance. 1873.
Description:

'The 'Contemporary Review' for September, 1872, contains translations of 'Twenty-Three Sonnets from Micheal Angelo,' executed with great taste and skill, from the original text as pulished by Guasti. I venture to quote the following:---

 

To Vittoria Colonnia:

 

Bring back the time when blind desire ran free,

With bit and rein too loose to curb his flight;

Give back the buried face, once angel-bright,

That hides in earth all comely things from me;

Bring back those journeys ta'en so toilsomely,

So toilsome slow to him whose hairs are white;

Those tears and flames that in our breast unite;

If thou wilt once more take thy fill of me!

 

Yet, Love! Suppose it true that thou dost thrive

Only on in bitter honey-dews of tears,

Small profit hast thou of a weak old man.

My soul that toward the other shore does strive,

Wards off thy darts with shafts of holier fears;

And fire feeds ill on brands no breath can fan.

 

To Tommaso Cavalieri:

 

Why should I seek to ease intense desire

With still more tears and windy words of grief,

When heaven, late or soon, sends no relief

To souls whom love hath robed around with fire?

Why needs my aching heart to death aspire,

When all must die? Nay death beyond belief

Unto those eyes would be both sweet and brief,

Since on my sum of woes all joys expire!

 

Therefore because I cannot shun the blow

I rather seek, say who must rule my breast,

Gliding between her gladness and her woe?

If only chains and bonds can make me blest,

No marvel of alone and bare I go

An armed knight's captive and slave confessed.

 

To Night:

 

O night, 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 up-borne I wend

From earth to heaven where yet I hope to climb.

 

Thou shade of Death, through whome the soul at length

Shuns pain and sadness hostile to the heart,

Whome mourners find their last and sure relief,

Thou dost restore our suffering flesh to strength,

Driest our tears, assuage every smart,

Purging the spirits of the pure from grief.' (n. on pp. 49-50)