Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 19, by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Alas, that words like these should be but folly Last Line: "to all the gloriesof the stageof france." | ||||||||
Alas, that words like these should be but folly! Behold, the Boulevard mocks, and I mock too. Let us away and purge our melancholy With the last laughter at the Ambigu! Here all is real. Here glory's self is true Through each regime to its own mission holy Of plying still the world with something new To cure its ache, or nobly souled or lowly. One title Paris holds above the rest Untouched by time or fortune's change or frown, One temple of high fame, where she sits dressed In youth eternal, and mirth's myrtle crown, And where she writes, each night, with deathless hands, "To all the gloriesof the stageof France." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ESTHER; A YOUNG MAN'S TRAGEDY: 51 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 110. THE OASIS OF SIDI KHALED by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 112. GIBRALTAR by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 55. ST. VALENTINE'S DAY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 60. FAREWELL TO JULIET (9) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 88. A DAY IN SUSSEX by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE OLD SQUIRE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A BALLAD OF THE HEATHER by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A CHAUNT IN PRAISE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A CUCKOO SONG by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |
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