Poems (1905) | ||
[THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM.]
This is my Place of pilgrimage: a ValeWhere piety oft slumbers, while Desire,
Like one new waken'd, snatches up in haste,
With Grasp insane, Light Joys, fantastic Hopes,
Remnants of Motley Bliss, confus'dly join'd
To woes alternate, sure of something ill,
Where the Good lies beneath—
Poems (1905) | ||