ON A FALLING GROUP IN THE LAST JUDGMENT OF MICHAEL ANGELO, IN THE CAPPELLA SISTINA
by: Washington Allston (1779-1843)
- OW vast, how dread, overwhelming is the thought
- Of Space interminable! to the soul
- A circling weight that crushes into nought
- Her mighty faculties! a wond'rous whole,
- Without or parts, beginning, or an end!
- How fearful then on desp'rate wings to send
- The fancy e'en amid the waste profound!
- Yet, born as if all daring to astound,
- Thy giant hand, oh Angelo, hath hurl'd
- E'en human forms, with all their mortal weight,
- Down the dread void--fall endless as their fate!
- Already now they seem from world to world
- For ages thrown; yet doom'd, another past,
- Another still to reach, nor e'er to reach the last!
MORE POEMS BY WASHINGTON ALLSTON
|"On a Falling Group in the Last Judgment of Michael Angelo, in the Cappella Sistina" is reprinted from The Sylphs of the Season with Other Poems. Washington Allston. Boston: Cummings and Hillard, 1813.