An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new And undebased by praise of meaner things, That, ere through age or woe I shed my wings, I may record thy worth with honour due, In verse as musical as thou art true, And that immortalizes whom it sings:

But thou hast little need. There is a book
By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly
light,

On which the eyes of God not rarely look,
A chronicle of actions just and bright-
There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine;
And since thou own'st that praise, I spare thee
mine.

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: The wealthiest man among us is the best: No grandeur now in nature or in book

Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense,
This is idolatry; and these we adore:
Plain living and high thinking are no more:
The homely beauty of the good old cause
Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence,
And pure religion breathing household laws.

2

LONDON, 1802

II

MILTON! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
Have forfeited their ancient English dower

Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.

Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart : Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the

sea:

Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.

3

"GREAT MEN HAVE BEEN

AMONG US"

III

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:
They knew how genuine glory was put on;
Taught us how rightfully a nation shone
In splendour: what strength was, that would
not bend

But in magnanimous meekness. France, 't is strange,

Hath brought forth no such souls as we had then.

Perpetual emptiness! unceasing change!
No single volume paramount, no code,
No master spirit, no determined road;
But equally a want of books and men!

4

"IT IS NOT TO BE THOUGHT OF "

IV

Ir is not to be thought of that the Flood
Of British freedom, which, to the open sea
Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity
Hath flowed, "with pomp of waters, un-
withstood,"

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

Should perish; and to evil and to good

Be lost for ever. In our halls is hung

Armory of the invincible Knights of old: We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakspeare spake; the faith and morals hold

Which Milton held.-In everything we are

sprung

Of Earth's first blood, have titles manifold.

5

WHEN I HAVE BORNE IN

MEMORY"

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

I had, my Country!-am I to be blamed?

Now, when I think of thee, and what thou art, Verily, in the bottom of my heart,

Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed.

For dearly must we prize thee; we who find
In thee a bulwark for the cause of men:

And I by my affection was beguiled:

What wonder if a Poet now and then, Among the many movements of his mind, Felt for thee as a lover or a child!

1802. 1807.