William Wordsworth

England, 1802 (v)

WHEN I have borne in memory what has tamed    
 Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart    
 When men change swords for ledgers, and desert    
The student’s bower for gold, some fears unnamed    
I had, my Country!—am I to be blamed?
 Now, when I think of thee, and what thou art,    
 Verily, in the bottom of my heart,    
Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed.    
For dearly must we prize thee; we who find    
 In thee a bulwark for the cause of men;
 And I by my affection was beguiled:    
 What wonder if a Poet now and then,    
Among the many movements of his mind,    
 Felt for thee as a lover or a child!
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