Nè so pensar, nè dire,
Qual nuoca o giovi più, visto ’l tuo ’spetto,
O ’l fin dell’universo, o ’l gran diletto.
Year after year, essay beyond essay,
Seeking, the lessoned maker doth arrive
At the idea, he leaveth aye alive
In alpine marble, though his life be flown;
For only in the twilight of his day
He reacheth what is noble and his own.
Thus Nature, long astray