Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/156

130 Of ancient Inspiration serving me,

I promised also,—with undaunted trust

Foretold; and added prayer to prophecy;

The admiration winning of the crowd,

The help desiring of the pure devout.

Scorn and contempt forbid me to proceed!

But History, Time's slavish Scribe, will tell

How rapidly the Zealots of the cause

Disbanded—or in hostile ranks appeared;

Some, tired of honest service; these, outdone,

Disgusted, therefore, or appalled, by aims

Of fiercer Zealots—so Confusion reigned,

And the more faithful were compelled to exclaim,

As Brutus did to Virtue, "Liberty,

"I worshipped Thee, and find thee but a Shade!"

Such recantation had for me no charm,

Nor would I bend to it; who should have grieved

At aught, however fair, which bore the mien

Of a conclusion, or catastrophe.

Why then conceal, that, when the simple good

In timid selfishness withdrew, I sought