Sir Walter Raleigh

(1552 - 1618 / Devon / England)

His Pilgrimage - Poem by Sir Walter Raleigh

GIVE me my scallop-shell of quiet,
   My staff of faith to walk upon,
My scrip of joy, immortal diet,
   My bottle of salvation,
My gown of glory, hope's true gage;
And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.

Blood must be my body's balmer;
   No other balm will there be given:
Whilst my soul, like quiet palmer,
   Travelleth towards the land of heaven;
Over the silver mountains,
Where spring the nectar fountains;
   There will I kiss
   The bowl of bliss;
And drink mine everlasting fill
Upon every milken hill.
My soul will be a-dry before;
But, after, it will thirst no more.


Comments about His Pilgrimage by Sir Walter Raleigh

  • Veteran Poet - 1,026 Points Thabani Khumalo (6/16/2015 9:19:00 AM)

    I have a vision to write like this, only if god would bless me enough to.dcfv (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Veteran Poet - 1,026 Points Thabani Khumalo (6/16/2015 9:19:00 AM)

    I have a vision to write like this, only if god would bless me enough to.vfj (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: faith, silver, kiss, spring, joy, heaven, hope



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003



[Hata Bildir]