Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power. Alike from all, howe'er they praise thee, Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature Gives it dim sympathies with me who live, (Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays Making it a companionable form, Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling thee) Alike from minions, Priestcraft's harpy Spirit 20 Save if the door half opened, and I Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the Bathed by the mist, is fresh and delicate at eve, ΙΟ clouds, Which image in their bulk both lakes The level sunshine glimmers with green and shores light. And mountain crags: so shalt thou see Oh! 'tis a quiet spirit-healing nook! and hear The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible Which all, methinks, would love; but chiefly he, years, Of that eternal language, which thy God The humble man, who, in his youthful Knew just so much of folly, as had made His early manhood more securely wise! Here he might lie on fern or withered And dreaming hears thee still, O singing A vain, speech-mouthing, speech-report lark; ing Guild, One Benefit-Club for mutual flattery, 60 And, deadlier far, our vices, whose deep Forth from his dark and lonely hidingplace, taint (Portentous sight!) the owlet Atheism, Sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon, Becomes a fluent phraseman, absolute And technical in victories and defeats, And all our dainty terms for fratricide; Drops his blue-fringed lids, and holds Terms which we trundle smoothly o'er And hooting at the glorious sun in Like mere abstractions, empty sounds to Battle, or siege, or flight through wintry And what if all-avenging Providence, Of thousands and ten thousands! Boys Who ever gazed with fondness on the The poor wretch, who has learnt his only Stand forth! be men! repel an impious From curses, who knows scarcely words Impious and false, a light yet cruel race, Freedom, themselves too sensual to be And yield them worship, they are enemies Even of their country! free, Poison life's amities, and cheat the heart Of faith and quiet hope, and all that soothes And all that lifts the spirit! Stand we forth; Such have I been deemed. But, O dear Britain! O my Mother Isle ! Needs must thou prove a name most dear and holy Render them back upon the insulted To me, a son, a brother, and a friend, ocean, And let them toss as idly on its waves As the vile sea weed, which some mountain-blast A husband, and a father! who revere All bonds of natural love, and find them all Within the limits of thy rocky shores. Swept from our shores! And oh! may| O native Britain! O my Mother Isle ! 180 How shouldst thou prove aught else but dear and holy To me, who from thy lakes and mountainhills, Thy clouds, thy quiet dales, thy rocks and seas, Have drunk in all my intellectual life, All sweet sensations, all ennobling thoughts, All adoration of the God in nature, For never can true courage dwell with The joy and greatness of its future being? them, Who, playing tricks with conscience, dare not look At their own vices. We have been too long Dupes of a deep delusion! Some, belike, Groaning with restless enmity, expect 161 There lives nor form nor feeling in my soul Unborrowed from my country! O divine And beauteous island! thou hast been my sole And most magnificent temple, in the which All change from change of constituted I walk with awe, and sing my stately From our own folly and rank wickedness, In this low dell, bow'd not the delicate Which gave them birth and nursed them. Dote with a mad idolatry; and all 171 grass. But now the gentle dew-fall sends abroad |