Small profit hast thou of a weak old man.
My soul that toward the other shore doth strive,
Wards off thy darts with shafts of holier fears;
And fire feeds ill on brands no breath can fan.

After this it only remains to quote the celebrated sonnet used by Varchi
for his dissertation, the best known of all Michael Angelo's poems.[426]
The thought is this: just as a sculptor hews from a block of marble the
form that lies concealed within, so the lover has to extract from his
lady's heart the life or death of his soul,

NON HA L'OTTIMO ARTISTA

The best of artists hath no thought to show
Which the rough stone in its superfluous shell
Doth not include: to break the marble spell
Is all the hand that serves the brain can do.
The ill I shun, the good I seek, even so
In thee, fair lady, proud, ineffable,
Lies hidden: but the art I wield so well
Works adverse to my wish, and lays me low.

Therefore not love, nor thy transcendent face,
Nor cruelty, nor fortune, nor disdain,
Cause my mischance, nor fate, nor destiny:
Since in thy heart thou carriest death and grace
Enclosed together, and my worthless brain
Can draw forth only death to feed on me.

The fire of youth was not extinct, we feel, after reading these last
sonnets. There is, indeed, an almost pathetic intensity of passion in the
recurrence of Michael Angelo's thoughts to a sublime love on the verge of
the grave. Not less important in their bearing on his state of feeling are
the sonnets addressed to Cavalieri; and though his modern editor shrinks
from putting a literal interpretation upon them, I am convinced that we
must accept them simply as an expression of the artist's homage for the
worth and beauty of an excellent young man. The two sonnets I intend to
quote next[427] were written, according to Varchi's direct testimony, for
Tommaso Cavalieri, "in whom"--the words are Varchi's--"I discovered,
besides incomparable personal beauty, so much charm of nature, such
excellent abilities, and such a graceful manner, that he deserved, and
still deserves, to be the better loved the more he is known." The play of
words upon Cavalieri's name in the last line of the first sonnet, the
evidence of Varchi, and the indirect witness of Condivi, together with
Michael Angelo's own letters,[428] are sufficient in my judgment to
warrant the explanation I have given above. Nor do I think