Here therefore ends my sad soul's pilgrimage, <br />In tears for sin and half--redeemed desire. <br />She was unworthy her high martyr's rage, <br />Or to be wholly purified by fire. <br />O Rome, thy ways are narrow and aspire <br />Too straitly for the knees of this halt age, <br />And, with the multitude, her forces tire, <br />Even while she holds thee fast, her heritage. <br />Path of sublime perfection upon Earth! <br />Your's is it in the clamour of vain days <br />To guard the calm eternal of Man's birth <br />And like an eagle to renew his days. <br />Give me your blessing, angels, ere I go, <br />Angels that guard the bridge of Angelo.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-new-pilgrimage-sonnet-xl/
