MICHAEL ANGELO TO HIS STATUE OF DAY.
(1535.)
Thou strong, swift Day, that with a single leap
Dost tip with gold the hundred-humpèd spine
Of this broad rocky Tuscan Apennine,
Then down the blue and misty valleys creep;
Thou findest Freedom everywhere asleep,
And men as listless as the grunting swine;
And pourest down the splendour of thy shine
Just as before, though God's own angels weep:
Therefore I give thee neither face nor eyes,
But leave thy head unhewn, until such time
As Freedom burst her slumber and shall rise,
O thou who ripenest the grapes that climb
The roadside trees, and heatest harvest's skies,
That men may feed and wallow in the slime.
