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XII.

THOUGHT OF A BRITON

ON THE

SUBJUGATION OF SWITZERLAND.

Two Voices are there; one is of the Sea,
One of the Mountains; each a mighty Voice:
In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice,
They were thy chosen Music, Liberty!

There came a Tyrant, and with holy glee

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.
Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft :
Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left!
For, high-souled Maid, what sorrow would it be
That mountain Floods should thunder as before,
And Ocean bellow from his rocky shore,

And neither awful Voice be heard by thee!

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 shew; 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.

XIV.

LONDON,

1802.

MILTON! thou should'st 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 itself did lay.

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GREAT Men have been among us; hands that penn'd
And tongues that uttered wisdom, better none:
The later Sydney, 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 splendor: what strength was, that would not bend
But in magnanimous meekness. France, 'tis 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!

XVI.

It is not to be thought of that the Flood

Sea

Of British freedom, which to the open
Of the world's praise from dark antiquity

Hath flowed, "with pomp of waters, unwithstood,"
Road by which all might come and go that would,
And bear out freights of worth to foreign lands;
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
Armoury of the invincible Knights of old:
We must be free or die, who speak the tongue

That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold
Which Milton held.-In every thing we are sprung
Of Earth's first blood, have titles manifold.

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