Give me my scallop-shell of quiet

[Chacharm]

I came across this poem while reading a Kate Atkinson novel last night.



SIR WALTER RALEIGH (?) in
Daiphantus, 1604 ; written
about 1603.



THE PASSIONATE MAN'S PILGRIMAGE.

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.

Blood must be my body's balmer,
No other balm will there be given ;
Whilst my soul, like a quiet palmer,
Travelleth towards the land of heaven ;
Over the silver mountains,
Where spring the nectar fountains :
There will I kiss
The bowl of bliss ;
And drink mine everlasting fill
Upon every milken hill :
My soul will be a-dry before ;
But after, it will thirst no more.
Then by that happy blestful day,
More peaceful pilgrims I shall see,
That have cast off their rags of clay,
And walk apparelled fresh like me.
I'll take them first
To quench their thirst,
And taste of nectar suckets,
At those clear wells
Where sweetness dwells
Drawn up by saints in crystal buckets.

And when our bottles and all we
Are filled with immortality,
Then the blessed paths we'll travel,
Strowed with rubies thick as gravel ;
Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors,
High walls of coral, and pearly bowers.
From thence to heavens's bribeless hall,
Where no corrupted voices brawl ;
No conscience molten into gold,
No forged accuser bought or sold,
No cause deferred, nor vain-spent journey ;
For there Christ is the King's Attorney,
Who pleads for all without degrees,
And he hath angels, but no fees.
And when the grand twelve-million jury
Of our sins, with direful fury,
'Gainst our souls black verdicts give,
Christ pleads his death, and then we live.

Be thou my speaker, taintless pleader,
Unblotted lawyer, true proceeder !
Thou giv'st salvation even for alms ;
Not with a bribèd lawyer's palms.
And this is my eternal plea
To him that made heaven, earth, and sea,
That, since my flesh must die so soon,
And want a head to dine next noon,
Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread,
Set on my soul an everlasting head.
Then am I ready, like a palmer fit ;
To tread those blest paths which before I writ.

 

[mspath]

Sir Walter Raleigh c. 1552- 1618 was an English adventurer and writer who established a colony near Roanoke Island, now known as Virginia. He was imprisoned in the Tower of London and eventually put to death for treason by King James 1. Prior to establishing Virginia he had been a "favorite" of Queen Elizabeth 1. source Biography.com

Reading the above poem which was written while Raleigh was imprisoned one can assume that the "Passionate man" of the title is readying himself for death.

 

[Chacharm]

Isn't that what we're all doing?

 

[Chacharm]

Sir Walter Raleigh c. 1552- 1618 was an English adventurer and writer who established a colony near Roanoke Island, now known as Virginia. He was imprisoned in the Tower of London and eventually put to death for treason by King James 1. Prior to establishing Virginia he had been a "favorite" of Queen Elizabeth 1. source Biography.com

Parsing the above poem one can assume that the "Passionate man" of the title is readying himself for death.

Not to be the grammar police, but "parsing" would really mean a syntactical, grammatical analysis. I think he definitely was writing about death, or his journey toward it and its sweet reward, as they say. But like my son said when we were on Camino - it is really difficult to stop seeing every aspect of the Camino as a metaphor for life.
And I think the opening line is lovely - "a scallop-shell of quiet".