Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/295

BOOK X.] Worthy of liberty, all spirits filled

With zeal expanding in Truth's holy light,

The gift of tongues might fall, and power arrive

From the four quarters of the winds to do

For France, what without help she could not do,

A work of honour; think not that to this

I added, work of safety: from all doubt

Or trepidation for the end of things

Far was I, far as angels are from guilt.

Yet did I grieve, nor only grieved, but thought

Of opposition and of remedies:

An insignificant stranger and obscure,

And one, moreover, little graced with power

Of eloquence even in my native speech,

And all unfit for tumult or intrigue,

Yet would I at this time with willing heart

Have undertaken for a cause so great

Service however dangerous. I revolved,

How much the destiny of Man had still

Hung upon single persons; that there was,

Transcendent to all local patrimony,

One nature, as there is one sun in heaven;

That objects, even as they are great, thereby

Do come within the reach of humblest eyes;