Furl we the sails, and pass with tardy oars
Through these bright regions, casting many a glance
Upon the dream-like issues, the romance
Of many-coloured life that Fortune pours
Round the Crusaders, till on distant shores
Their labours end; or they return to lie,
The vow performed, in cross-legged effigy,
Devoutly stretched upon their chancel floors.
Am I deceived? Or is their requiem chanted
By voices never mute when Heaven unties
Her inmost, softest, tenderest harmonies;
Requiem which Earth takes up with voice undaunted,
When she would tell how Brave, and Good, and Wise,
For their high guerdon not in vain have panted!
Read all of William Wordsworth's poems · About William Wordsworth
More by William Wordsworth
- Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part II. - X - Where Long And Deeply Hath Been Fixed The Root
- Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part II. - XI - Transubstantiation
- Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part II. - XII - The Vaudois
- Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part II. - XIII - Praised Be The Rivers, From Their Mountain Springs
- Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part II. - XIV - Waldenses
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