And Jacobsaid unto Pharaoh,The days oftheyears of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years: fewand evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.
My Sword, I give to him that shall succeed me in my Pilgrimage, and my Courage and Skill, to himthat can get it. My Marks and Scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me, that Ihave fought his Battles, who now will be my Rewarder As he went, he said,Death, where is thy Sting? And as he went down deeper, he said,Grave where is thy Victory? So he passed over, and the Trumpets sounded for him on the other side.
O God of Bethel! by whose hand Thy people still are fed, Who through this weary pilgrimage Hast all our fathers led.
We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, We Poets of the proud old lineage Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why What shall we tell you? Tales, marvellous tales Of ships and stars and isles where good men rest.
Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage, And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
Webster's New World Dictionary of Quotations Copyright © 2010 by Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Published by Wiley, Hoboken, NJ. Used by arrangement with John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
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