Masaccio.
BRANCACCI CHAPEL, FLORENCE.
He came to Florence long ago,
And painted here these walls, which shone
For Raphael and for Angelo
With secrets deeper than his own;
Then shrank into the dark again,
And died, we know not how or when.
And painted here these walls, which shone
For Raphael and for Angelo
With secrets deeper than his own;
Then shrank into the dark again,
And died, we know not how or when.
The shadows deepened, and I turned
Half-sadly from the fresco grand;
And is this, mused I, all ye earned,
High-vaunted brain and cunning hand,
That we who wonder here should know
This single word—Masaccio?
Half-sadly from the fresco grand;
And is this, mused I, all ye earned,
High-vaunted brain and cunning hand,
That we who wonder here should know
This single word—Masaccio?
And who were they, I mused, that wrought
Through pathless wilds, through hate and wrong,
The highways of our daily thought?
Who built those towers of eldest song
That lift us o'er the world to peace,
Remote, 'mid starry silences?
Through pathless wilds, through hate and wrong,
The highways of our daily thought?
Who built those towers of eldest song
That lift us o'er the world to peace,
Remote, 'mid starry silences?
Out clangod the Ave-Mary bells,
And to my heart this message came:
"Each clamorous throat among us tells
What strong-souled martyrs died in flame
To make it possible that thou
Shouldst here with brother-sinners bow.
And to my heart this message came:
"Each clamorous throat among us tells
What strong-souled martyrs died in flame
To make it possible that thou
Shouldst here with brother-sinners bow.
