<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536318" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XIX</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas, that words like these should be but folly!<br>Behold, the Boulevard mocks, and I mock too.<br>Let us away and purge our melancholy<br>With the last laughter at the Ambigu!<br>Here all is real. Here glory's self is true<br>Through each regime to its own mission holy<br>Of plying still the world with something new<br>To cure its ache, or nobly souled or lowly.<br>One title Paris holds above the rest<br>Untouched by time or fortune's change or frown,<br>One temple of high fame, where she sits dressed<br>In youth eternal, and mirth's myrtle crown,<br>And where she writes, each night, with deathless hands,<br>``To all the glories--of the stage--of France.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wilfrid+Scawen+Blunt">Wilfrid Scawen Blunt</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536318" data-title="A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XIX de Wilfrid Scawen Blunt" data-description="Alas, that words like these should be but folly! Behold, the Boulevard mocks, and I mock too. Let us away and purge our melancholy With the last laughter at the Ambigu! Here all is real. Here glory's self is true Through each regime to its own mis..."></div> </div> </div>

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