File:Florence in poetry, history and art (1913) (14576806239).jpg

Identifier: florenceinpoetry00ryan (find matches)
Title: Florence in poetry, history and art
Year: 1913 (1910s)
Authors: Ryan, Sara Agnes
Subjects:
Publisher: Chicago, Mayer and Miller Co.
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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rt, and within whose same walls didhe breathe his last. 147 Florence. Masaccio also is buried in the BrancacciChapel, a marble slab in the floor commemora-ting the fact. His paintings adorning the wallsare his best monument. If any seek the marble or my name, This church shall be the marble—and the name, Yon oratory holds it. Nature envied My pencils power, as Art required and loved it, Thence was it that I died. In this chapel wroughtOne of the few, Natures interpreters,The few whom Genius gives as lights to shine,—Masaccio; and he slumbers underneath.Wouldst thou behold his monument? Look round!And know that where we stand stood oft and long, Oft till the day was gone, Eaphael himself; Nor he alone, so great the ardour there, Such,while it reigned, the generous rivalry; He and far many more at once called forth, Anxious to learn of those who came before, To steal a spark from their authentic fire, Theirs who first broke the universal gloom,— Sons of the morning. —Rogers. 148
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Filippino Lippi Masaccio. MASACCIO.In the Brancacci Chapel. 1 He came to Florence long ago, And painted here these walls, that shone For Raphael and for Angelo,With secrets deeper than his own, Then shrank into the dark again, And died, we know not how nor when. The shadows deepened, and I turnedHalf sadly from the fresco grand; And is this, mused I, all ye earned,High-vaulted brain and cunning hand, That ye to greater men could teach The skill yourself could never reach f And who were they, I mused, that wroughtThrough pathless wilds, with labor long, The highways of our daily thought?Who reared those towers of earliest song That lift us from the throng to peace Remote in sunny silences? Out clanged the Ave Mary bells,And to my heart this message came: Each clamorous throat among them tellsWhat strong-souled martyrs died in flame To make it possible that thou Shouldst here with brother-singers bow. 149 Florence. Thoughts that great hearts once broke for, weBreathe cheaply in the comm

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