WHEN the lone pilgrim views afar The shrine that is his guiding star, With awe his footsteps print the road Which the loved saint of yore has trod. As near he draws, and yet more near, His dim eye sparkles with a tear; The Gothic fane's unwonted show, The choral hymn, the tapers' glow, Oppress his soul; while they delight And chasten rapture with affright. No longer dare he think his toil Can merit aught his patron's smile; Too light appears the distant way, The chilly eve, the sultry day -- All these endured no favour claim, But murmuring forth the sainted name, He lays his little offering down, And only deprecates a frown. We too, who ply the Thespian art, Oft feel such bodings of the heart, And, when our utmost powers are strain'd, Dare hardly hope your favour gain'd. She, who from sister climes has sought The ancient land where Wallace fought -- Land long renown'd for arms and arts, And conquering eyes and dauntless hearts -- She, as the flutterings @3here@1 avow, Feels all the pilgrim's terrors @3now@1; Yet sure on Caledonian plain The stranger never sued in vain. 'Tis yours the hospitable task To give the applause she dare not ask; And they who bid the pilgrim speed, The pilgrim's blessing be their meed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN EPITAPH by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE CAPTAINS OF THE YEARS by ARTHUR RAYMOND MACDOUGALL JR. THE PILLAR OF THE CLOUD by JOHN HENRY NEWMAN URANIA; THE WOMAN IN THE MOON: DEDICATION TO LADY PENELOPE DYNHAM by WILLIAM BASSE INSCRIPTION FOR THE DOOR OF [BROWNRIGG'S] CELL IN NEWGATE by GEORGE CANNING THE PATH TO THE WOODS by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN BLANK MISGIVINGS OF A CREATURE MOVING ABOUT IN WORLDS NOT REALIZED: 2 by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |