Who would true valour see, Let him come hither; One here will constant be, Come wind, come weather; There's no discouragement Shall make him once relent His first avowed intent To be a pilgrim. Whoso beset him round With dismal stories, Do but themselves confound; His strength the more is. No lion can him fright, He'll with a giant fight, But he will have a right To be a pilgrim. Hobgoblin nor foul fiend Can daunt his spirit; He knows he at the end Shall life inherit. Then fancies fly away, He'll not fear what men say; He'll labour night and day To be a pilgrim. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON by GEOFFREY CHAUCER BACON'S EPITAPH, MADE BY HIS MAN by JOHN COTTON (1640-1699) EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: CONVOY ESCORT by RUDYARD KIPLING KEARNY AT SEVEN PINES [MAY 31, 1862] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN THE DESERT DISILLUSION by BERTON BRALEY THE WEDDING FEAST: 3 by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. EARLY MORNING by EDWARD CARPENTER |