Page:Lyra heroica.djvu/126

 102 WORDSWORTH

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 ?

But when I think of thee, and what thou art,

Verily, in the bottom of my heart,

Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed.

But 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 !

��IDEAL

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 itself did lay.

�� �