Per croce e grazia.
God's grace, the cross, our troubles multiplied,
Will make us meet in heaven, full well I know:
Yet ere we yield our breath, on earth below
Why need a little solace be denied?
Though seas and mountains and rough ways divide
Our feet asunder, neither frost nor snow
Can make the soul her ancient love forgo;
Nor chains nor bonds the wings of thought have tied.
Borne by these wings with thee I dwell for aye,
And weep, and of my dead Urbino talk,
Who, were he living, now perchance would be,
For so 'twas planned, thy guest as well as I:
Warned by his death another way I walk
To meet him where he waits to live with me.
To Monsignor Lodovico Beccadelli. Urbino
Michelangelo Di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni
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Poem topics: breath, death, god, heaven, snow, walk, soul, earth, frost, ancient, talk, live, thought, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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