<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536334" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXX</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis time I stepped from Horeb to the plain.<br>Mountains, farewell. I need a heavier air.<br>Youth's memories are not good for souls in pain,<br>And each new age has its own meed of care.<br>Farewell, sad Alps, you are my barrier<br>Now to the North, and hold my passions slain<br>For all life's vultures, as I downward fare<br>To a new land of love which is not vain.<br>How staid is Italy! No gardened rose<br>Scattering its leaves is chaster than she is.<br>No cloister stiller, no retreat more close.<br>There is a tameness even in her seas<br>On which white towns look down, as who should say,<br>``Here wise men long have lived, and live to--day.''</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=536334" data-title="A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXX de Wilfrid Scawen Blunt" data-description="'Tis time I stepped from Horeb to the plain. Mountains, farewell. I need a heavier air. Youth's memories are not good for souls in pain, And each new age has its own meed of care. Farewell, sad Alps, you are my barrier Now to the North, and hold m..."></div> </div> </div>

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