File:Florence in poetry, history and art (1913) (14576852208).jpg

Identifier: florenceinpoetry00ryan (find matches)
Title: Florence in poetry, history and art
Year: 1913 (1910s)
Authors: Ryan, Sara Agnes
Subjects:
Publisher: Chicago, Mayer and Miller Co.
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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rit shine; It was as if before me roseThe white veil of a shrine. 243 Florence. As if, as Gothlands sage has told,The hidden life, the man within, Discovered from its frame and mould,By mortal eye were seen. Was it the lifting of that eye, The waving of that pictured hand ? Loose as a cloud-wreath on the sky,I saw the walls expand! The narrow room had vanished,—space,Broad, luminous, remained alone, Through which all hues and shapes of graceAnd beauty looked or shone. Around the mighty master came The marvels which his pencil wrought, Those miracles of power whose fameIs wide as human thought. There drooped thy more than mortal face,0 mother, beautiful and mild, Enfolding in one dear embraceThy Savior and thy child! The rapt brow of the Desert John; The awful glory of that dayWhen all the Fathers brightness shone Through manhoods veil of clay. And, midst gray prophet forms, and wild,Dark visions of the days of old, How sweetly womans beauty smiledThrough locks of brown and gold! 244
Text Appearing After Image:
Raphael Painting the Madonna Wittmer Illustrating how Raphael, in lieu of the proper materials, drew the lovelypeasant and her child whom he met aecidently, on the end of a wine cask, inework is now known as The Madonna of the Chair. Raphael. There Fomarinas fair young faceOnce more upon her lover shone, Whose model of an angels graceHe borrowed from her own. Slow passed that vision from my view,But not the lesson which it taught; The soft, calm shadows which it threwStill rested on my thought: The truth, that painter, bard, and sage,E en in earths cold and changeful clime, Plant for their deathless heritageThe fruits and flowers of time. We shape ourselves the joy or fearOf which the coming life is made, And fill our futures atmosphereWith sunshine or with shade. The tissue of the Life to be We weave with colors all our own, And in the field of DestinyWe reap as we have sown. Still shall the soul around it callThe shadows which it gathered here, And, painted on the eternal wall,The P

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