A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XVIII
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt 1840 (Petworth House) – 1922 (United Kingdom)
Therefore do thou at least arise and warn,
Not folded in thy mantle, a blind seer,
But naked in thy anger, and new--born,
As in the hour when thy voice sounded clear
To the world's slaves, and tyrants quaked for fear.
Thou hadst a message then, a word of scorn,
First for thyself, thy own crimes' challenger,
And next for those who withered in thy dawn.
An hundred years have passed since that fair day,
And still the world cries loud, in its desire,
That right is wronged, and force alone has sway.
What profit are they, thy guns' tongues of fire?
Nay, leave to England her sad creed of gold;
Plead thou Man's rights, clean--handed as of old.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 36 sec read
- 88 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABACCADEFDFDGG |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 638 |
Words | 121 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 14 |
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"A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XVIII" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/38599/a-new-pilgrimage:-sonnet-xviii>.
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