Thou fought'st against him; but hast vainly striven: Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven, Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. 1806. XIII. WRITTEN IN LONDON, SEPTEMBER, 1802. O FRIEND! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom!-We must run glittering like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest: 5 IO XIV. LONDON, 1802. MILTON! thou should'st be living at this hour: 5 England hath need of thee: she is a fen sea:. Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, XV. GREAT men have been among us; hands that penned And tongues that uttered wisdom-better none: The later Sidney, Marvel, Harrington, Young Vane, and others who called Milton friend. These moralists could act and comprehend: 5 But in magnanimous meekness. France, 'tis strange, Hath brought forth no such souls as we had then. Perpetual emptiness! unceasing change! 1802. (?) XVI. It is not to be thought of that the Flood 5 Roused though it be full often to a mood Which spurns the check of salutary bands, That this most famous Stream in bogs and sands 10 Should perish; and to evil and to good Which Milton held.-In every thing we are sprung Of Earth's first blood, have titles manifold. 1803. XVII. WHEN I have borne in memory what has tamed Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart When men change swords for ledgers, and desert The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed 5 I had, my Country-am I to be blamed? Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed. For dearly must we prize thee; we who find Among the many movements of his mind, 1803. XVIII. OCTOBER, 1803. ONE might believe that natural miseries How piteous then that there should be such dearth 9 Of knowledge; that whole myriads should unite To work against themselves such fell despite : Should come in phrensy and in drunken mirth, Impatient to put out the only light Of Liberty that yet remains on earth! XIX. THERE is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear Than his who breathes, by roof, and floor, and wall, Pent in, a Tyrant's solitary Thrall: "Tis his who walks about in the open air, One of a Nation who, henceforth, must wear 5 Their fetters in their souls. For who could be, Who, even the best, in such condition, free From self-reproach, reproach that he must share With Human-nature? Never be it ours |