Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 40, by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT



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A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 40, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Here therefore ends my sad soul's pilgrimage
Last Line: Angels that guard the bridge of angelo.


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.





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