A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xvi
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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Gods, what a moral! Yet in vain I jest.
The France which has been, and shall be again,
Is the most serious, and perhaps the best,
Of all the nations which have power with men.
France only of the nations has this plain
Thought in the world, to scorn hypocrisy,
And by this token she shall purge the stain
Of her sins yet, though these as scarlet be.
Let her put off her folly! 'Tis a cloak
Which hides her virtue. Let her foremost stand,
The champion of all necks which feel the yoke,
As once she stood sublime in every land.
Let her forgo her Tonquins, and make good
Her boast to man, of man's high brotherhood!
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