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I wrote I know not what. In truth,
For he too was a friend to me :
Both are my friends, and my true breast Bleedeth for both; yet it may be That only silence suiteth best.
Words weaker than your grief would make Grief more. "Twere better I should cease
Although myself could almost take
The place of him that sleeps in peace :
Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace:
Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet.
Sleep full of rest from head to feet;
Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
"YOU ASK ME, WHY, THOUGH ILL AT EASE.”
You ask me, why, though ill at ease,
Whose spirits falter in the mist,
And languish for the purple seas?
It is the land that freemen till,
That sober-suited Freedom chose,
The land where, girt with friends or foes, A man may speak the thing he will;
A land of settled government,
A land of just and old renown,
Where Freedom broadens slowly down From precedent to precedent:
Where faction seldom gathers head,
But by degrees to fulness wrought,
Should banded unions persecute
When single thought is civil crime,
Though Power should make from land to land The name of Britain trebly greatThough every channel of the State Should almost choke with golden sand
Yet waft me from the harbor-mouth,
"OF OLD SAT FREEDOM ON THE HEIGHTS."
Of old sat Freedom on the heights,
The thunders breaking at her feet:
Above her shook the starry lights:
There in her place she did rejoice,
Then stept she down through town and field
Grave mother of majestic works,
From her isle-altar gazing down,
Her open eyes desire the truth.
The wisdom of a thousand years
That her fair form may stand and shine,
Turning to scorn with lips divine
The falsehood of extremes!
"LOVE THOU THY LAND, WITH LOVE FAR BROUGHT."
LOVE thou thy land, with love far brought
True love turned round on fixéd poles,
But pamper not a hasty time,
Deliver not the tasks of might
To weakness, neither hide the ray
Make knowledge circle with the winds;
Watch what main-currents draw the years:
Nor toil for title, place, or touch
Of pension, neither count on praise :
Not clinging to some ancient saw:
That from Discussion's lip may fall
With Life, that, working strongly, binds
To close the interests of all.
For Nature also, cold and warm,
And moist and dry, devising long, Through many agents making strong, Matures the individual form.
Meet is it changes should control
So let the change which comes be free
A saying hard to shape in act;
Even now we hear with inward strife
A slow-developed strength awaits
The warders of the growing hour,
Of many changes, aptly joined,
Is bodied forth the second whole. Regard gradation, lest the soul Of Discord race the rising wind:
A wind to puff your idol-fires,
And heap their ashes on the head; To shame the boast so often made, That we are wiser than our sires.