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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt - A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XL
Work rating: Low

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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