Yes, Italy is wise, a cultured prude, <br />Stored with all maxims of a statelier age; <br />These are her lessons for our northern blood, <br />With its dark Saxon madness and Norse rage. <br />With these she tempers us and renders sage, <br />As long ago she stayed the barbarous flood <br />Surging against her, and her heritage <br />Snatched from the feet of that brute multitude. <br />Calmly she waits us. What to her shall be <br />Our fevers of to--day, who erewhile knew <br />Caesar's ambitions? What our pruriency, <br />Who saw Rome sacked by the lewd Vandal crew? <br />What our despair, who, while a world stood mute, <br />Saw Henry kneel in tears at Peter's foot?<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-new-pilgrimage-sonnet-xxxi/
