Sonnet for Tommaso Cavalieri~

No mortal object did these eyes behold
When first they met the placid light of thine,
And my Soul felt felt her destiny divine...
And hope of endless peace in me grew bold:
Heaven-born, the soul a heavenward course must hold;
Beyond the visible world she soars to seek
What delight the sense in false and weak
Ideal form, the universal mold.
The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest
In that which perishes; nor will he lend
His heart to aught which doth on time depend.
'Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true love,
That kills the soul; love betters what is best,
Even here below, but more in heaven above.

-M. Buonarotti/Translated by William Wordsworth