Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

England, 1802 III

Great men have been among us; hands that penn’d

And tongues that utter’d wisdom—better none:

The later Sidney, Marvel, Harrington,

Young Vane, and others who call’d Milton friend.

These moralists could act and comprehend:

They knew how genuine glory was put on;

Taught us how rightfully a nation shone

In splendour: what strength was, that would not bend

But in magnanimous meekness. France, ’tis strange,

Hath brought forth no such souls as we had then.

Perpetual emptiness! unceasing change!

No single volume paramount, no code,

No master spirit, no determined road;

But equally a want of books and men!

Written by
William Wordsworth
1770-1850 / Male / English
Lines·Words
14·99
AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write