Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PILGRIMS, by RACHEL ANNAND TAYLOR Poet's Biography First Line: The pages of the perfect greek Last Line: When shall we quite forget? Subject(s): Pilgrimages & Pilgrims | ||||||||
The Clerks. THE pages of the perfect Greek, And all our lovely heathen lore, Our pastorals, and gods antique, We burned them, which we did adore. Pilatus wrote, that all may read Thy Name above the Cross indeed. (O hard behest!Thy Words are best. But Jesu! help us to forget!) The Knights. We have cast off the subtile mail And broken with our bride the Sword. From sins of violence we quail As caitiffs for Thy sake, sweet Lord, Far from the golden great mellay That ringeth like a morn of May. (O sword and crest!Thy Will is best! But, Jesu! help us to forget!) The Ladies. We left the lute with broken string, The web of tapestry undone, The falcon with his wearied wing, The lilies fainting in the sun, The web of dreamy scarlet dyes, The falcon Love far-off that dies. (O beating breast!Thy Love is best! But Jesu! help us to forget!) The Monks. Across the litanies there came A dream of oriflammes and spears: Within the vigil woke like flame A dream of kisses and of tears. The body for the Soul we slew, But Love and Wrath like souls shone through The cloister bars. Those flagrant stars O Jesu! help us to forget! All together. Now over all the low blue hills Winds on the masque of Spring: Green, gold, and white upon the hills The Paynim masque of Spring! Of all the buried daffodils Not one hath she forgot: But us she quickeneth not. Us she reneweth not, albeit Amid her revelry But yester-April, fair and fleet, Her masquers too were we, Singing that we were hers, Not children of the Curse. But children we of very Death Unless Thou quicken us: And so we draw this bitter breath, And so we travail thus. For like a wind Thy Spirit saith O'er pipe and violin: "It is but shame and sin." Mile after mile the road crawls by, But are we nearer Thee? Against what holy beryl sky Shall rise the Crosses three? When shall Thy beauty like a sigh Cleanse us from vain-regret? When shall we quite forget? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOTHS: 1. CIRCA 1582 by NORMAN DUBIE THE MOTHS: 1. CIRCA 1952 by NORMAN DUBIE GOAL by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE PILGRIM by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE PILGRIM [SONG], FR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS by JOHN BUNYAN UP-HILL by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AT ELLIS ISLAND by MARGARET LIVINGSTON CHANLER ALDRICH FAREWELL TO THE PILGRIMS by THEODORE M. BAKKE THE PILGRIM by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN TO HER LOVER by RACHEL ANNAND TAYLOR |
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