A bright-haired company of youthful slaves,
Beautiful strangers, stand within the pale
Of a sad market, ranged for public sale,
Where Tiber's stream the immortal City laves:
Angli by name; and not an Angel waves
His wing who could seem lovelier to man's eye
Than they appear to holy Gregory;
Who, having learnt that name, salvation craves
For Them, and for their Land. The earnest Sire,
His questions urging, feels, in slender ties
Of chiming sound, commanding sympathies;
De-Irians, he would save them from God's ire;
Subjects of Saxon Aella, they shall sing
Glad Halle-lujahs to the eternal King!
Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part I. - Xiii - Casual Incitement
William Wordsworth
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Poem topics: angel, beautiful, city, god, sad, wing, king, bright, eternal, glad, holy, salvation, public, stand, market, save, company, sound, stream, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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