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

Behold the deed is done. Here endeth all
 That bound my grief to its ancestral ways.
 I have passed out, as from a funeral,
 From my dead home, and in the great world`s gaze
 Henceforth I stand, a pilgrim of new days,
 On the high road of life. Where I was thrall,
 See, I am master, being passionless;
 And, having nothing now, am lord of all.
 How glorious is the world! Its infinite grace
 Surprises me--and not as erst with fear,
 But as one meets a woman face to face,
 Loved once and unforgotten and still dear
 In certain moods and seasons. So to me
 The fair world smiles to--day, yet leaves me free.
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