London, 1802
BY WILLIAM
WORDSWORTH
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.

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