Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

(1840 - 1922 / England)

A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xl - Poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Here therefore ends my sad soul's pilgrimage,
In tears for sin and half--redeemed desire.
She was unworthy her high martyr's rage,
Or to be wholly purified by fire.
O Rome, thy ways are narrow and aspire
Too straitly for the knees of this halt age,
And, with the multitude, her forces tire,
Even while she holds thee fast, her heritage.
Path of sublime perfection upon Earth!
Your's is it in the clamour of vain days
To guard the calm eternal of Man's birth
And like an eagle to renew his days.
Give me your blessing, angels, ere I go,
Angels that guard the bridge of Angelo.


Comments about A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xl by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

There is no comment submitted by members..



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?



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010



[Report Error]