Lxv. to giorgio vasari.

ON THE BRINK OF DEATH.

Giunto è già.


Now hath my life across a stormy sea
   Like a frail bark reached that wide port where all
   Are bidden, ere the final reckoning fall
   Of good and evil for eternity.

Now know I well how that fond phantasy
   Which made my soul the worshipper and thrall
   Of earthly art, is vain; how criminal
   Is that which all men seek unwillingly.

Those amorous thoughts which were so lightly dressed,
   What are they when the double death is nigh?
   The one I know for sure, the other dread.

Painting nor sculpture now can lull to rest
   My soul that turns to His great love on high,
   Whose arms to clasp us on the cross were spread.