England! the time is come when thou should’st
wean
Thy heart from its emasculating food;
The truth should now be better understood;
Old things have been unsettled; we have
seen
Fair seed-time, better harvest might have
been 5
But for thy trespasses; and, at this day,
If for Greece, Egypt, India, Africa,
Aught good were destined, thou would’st
step between.
England! all nations in this charge agree:
But worse, more ignorant in love and hate,
10
Far—far more abject, is thine
Enemy:
Therefore the wise pray for thee, though
the freight
Of thy offences be a heavy weight:
Oh grief that Earth’s best hopes
rest all with Thee!
* * * * *
OCTOBER, 1803 (#3)
Composed October 1803.—Published 1807
Included among the “Sonnets dedicated to Liberty”;
afterwards called,
“Poems dedicated to National Independence and
Liberty.”—Ed.
When, looking on the present face of things,
I see one man, of men the meanest too!
Raised up to sway the world, to do, undo,
With mighty Nations for his underlings,
The great events with which old story
rings 5
Seem vain and hollow; I find nothing great:
Nothing is left which I can venerate;
So that a doubt almost [1] within me springs
Of Providence, such emptiness at length
Seems at the heart of all things.
But, great God! 10
I measure back the steps which I have
trod;
And tremble, seeing whence proceeds the
strength [2]
Of such poor Instruments, with thoughts
sublime
I tremble at the sorrow of the time.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1845.
... almost a doubt ... 1807.]
[Variant 2:
1827.
... seeing, as I do, the strength 1807.]
The reference is, of course, to Napoleon.—Ed.
* * * * *
TO THE MEN OF KENT. OCTOBER, 1803
Composed October 1803.—Published 1807
One of the “Sonnets dedicated to Liberty”; re-named in 1845, “Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty.”—Ed.
Vanguard of Liberty, ye men of Kent, [A]
Ye children of a Soil that doth advance
Her [1] haughty brow against the coast
of France,
Now is the time to prove your hardiment!
To France be words of invitation sent!
5
They from their fields can see the countenance
Of your fierce war, may ken the glittering
lance
And hear you shouting forth your brave
intent.
Left single, in bold parley, ye, of yore,