Britain put forth her free-born strength in league,
  Oh, pity and shame! with those confederate Powers! 265
  Not in my single self alone I found,
  But in the minds of all ingenuous youth,
  Change and subversion from that hour.  No shock
  Given to my moral nature had I known
  Down to that very moment; neither lapse 270
  Nor turn of sentiment that might be named
  A revolution, save at this one time;
  All else was progress on the self-same path
  On which, with a diversity of pace,
  I had been travelling:  this a stride at once 275
  Into another region.  As a light
  And pliant harebell, swinging in the breeze
  On some grey rock—­its birth-place—­so had I
  Wantoned, fast rooted on the ancient tower
  Of my beloved country, wishing not 280
  A happier fortune than to wither there: 
  Now was I from that pleasant station torn
  And tossed about in whirlwind.  I rejoiced,
  Yea, afterwards—­truth most painful to record!—­
  Exulted, in the triumph of my soul, 285
  When Englishmen by thousands were o’erthrown,
  Left without glory on the field, or driven,
  Brave hearts! to shameful flight.  It was a grief,—­
  Grief call it not, ’twas anything but that,—­
  A conflict of sensations without name, 290
  Of which he only, who may love the sight
  Of a village steeple, as I do, can judge,
  When, in the congregation bending all
  To their great Father, prayers were offered up,
  Or praises for our country’s victories; 295
  And, ’mid the simple worshippers, perchance
  I only, like an uninvited guest
  Whom no one owned, sate silent; shall I add,
  Fed on the day of vengeance yet to come.

  Oh! much have they to account for, who could tear, 300
  By violence, at one decisive rent,
  From the best youth in England their dear pride,
  Their joy, in England; this, too, at a time
  In which worst losses easily might wean
  The best of names, when patriotic love 305
  Did of itself in modesty give way,
  Like the Precursor when the Deity
  Is come Whose harbinger he was; a time
  In which apostasy from ancient faith
  Seemed but conversion to a higher creed; 310
  Withal a season dangerous and wild,
  A time when sage Experience would have snatched
  Flowers out of any hedge-row to compose
  A chaplet in contempt of his grey locks.