The power of giving life, is gained for you. 
If men in any age with Nature vied
    In beauteous workmanship, they had to yield
    When to the fated end years brought their name. 
You, reilluming memories that died,
    In spite of Time and Nature have revealed
    For them and for yourself eternal fame.

XII.

TO VITTORIA COLONNA.

A MATCHLESS COURTESY.

Felice spirto.

Blest spirit, who with loving tenderness
    Quickenest my heart so old and near to die,
    Who mid thy joys on me dost bend an eye
    Though many nobler men around thee press! 
As thou wert erewhile wont my sight to bless,
    So to console my mind thou now dost fly;
    Hope therefore stills the pangs of memory,
    Which coupled with desire my soul distress. 
So finding in thee grace to plead for me—­
    Thy thoughts for me sunk in so sad a case—­
    He who now writes, returns thee thanks for these. 
Lo, it were foul and monstrous usury
    To send thee ugliest paintings in the place
    Of thy fair spirit’s living phantasies.

XIII.

TO VITTORIA COLONNA.

BRAZEN GIFTS FOR GOLDEN.

Per esser manco almen.

Seeking at least to be not all unfit
    For thy sublime and boundless courtesy,
    My lowly thoughts at first were fain to try
    What they could yield for grace so infinite. 
But now I know my unassisted wit
    Is all too weak to make me soar so high;
    For pardon, lady, for this fault I cry,
    And wiser still I grow remembering it. 
Yea, well I see what folly ’twere to think
    That largess dropped from thee like dews from heaven
    Could e’er be paid by work so frail as mine! 
To nothingness my art and talent sink;
    He fails who from his mortal stores hath given
    A thousandfold to match one gift divine.

XIV.

FIRST READING.

TO VITTORIA COLONNA.

THE MODEL AND THE STATUE.

Da che concetto.

When divine Art conceives a form and face,
    She bids the craftsman for his first essay
    To shape a simple model in mere clay: 
    This is the earliest birth of Art’s embrace. 
From the live marble in the second place
    His mallet brings into the light of day
    A thing so beautiful that who can say
    When time shall conquer that immortal grace? 
Thus my own model I was born to be—­
    The model of that nobler self, whereto
    Schooled by your pity, lady, I shall grow. 
Each overplus and each deficiency
    You will make good.  What penance then is due
    For my fierce heat, chastened and taught by you?

XIV.