Michael Angelo's "Dawn."
Dawn, midnight, noonday? What are times to thee Man's Grief art thou, that moanest with the light, And starest dumb at evening, and at night Dost wake and dream and slumber fitfully! Thou art Distress, that cannot cry aloud. That cannot weep, that cannot stoop to tear One fold of all her garment, but with air Supremely brooding waits the final shroud! Dust, long ago, the princes of this place; Forgot the civic losses which in thee Great Angelo lamented; but thy face Proclaims the master's immortality! So sit thee, marble Grief! this very day How burns the art when long the hand is clay!
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Dawn, midnight, noonday? What are times to thee..."
"Michael Angelo's "Dawn."" is a quintessential example of Margaret Steele Anderson's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...