Where faction seldom gathers head,

But by degrees to fullness wrought,

The strength of some diffusive thought Hath time and space to work and spread.

Should banded unions persecute

Opinion, and induce a time

When single thought is civil crime,

And individual freedom mute;

Though Power should make from land to land The name of Britain trebly great—

Though every channel of the State Should almost choke with golden sand

Yet waft me from the harbour-mouth,

Wild wind! I seek a warmer sky,

And I will see before I die

The palms and temples of the South.

Or old sat Freedom on the heights,

The thunders breaking at her feet:

Above her shook the starry lights:
She heard the torrents meet.

Within her place she did rejoice,

Self-gather'd in her prophet-mind,

But fragments of her mighty voice
Came rolling on the wind.

Then stept she down thro' town and field To mingle with the human race, And part by part to men reveal'd

The fullness of her face

Grave mother of majestic works,

From her isle-altar gazing down,

Who, God-like, grasps the triple forks,
And, King-like, wears the crown:

Her open eyes desire the truth.

The wisdom of a thousand years

Is in them. May perpetual youth
Keep dry their light from tears;

That her fair form may stand and shine,

Make bright our days and light our dreams,

Turning to scorn with lips divine

The falsehood of extremes!

Love thou thy land, with love far-brought From out the storied Past, and used

Within the Present, but transfused Thro' future time by power of thought.

True love turn'd round on fixed poles, Love, that endures not sordid ends, For English natures, freemen, friends,

Thy brothers and immortal souls.

But

pamper not a hasty time,

Nor feed with crude imaginings

The herd, wild hearts and feeble wings,

That every sophister can lime.

Deliver not the tasks of might

To weakness, neither hide the ray From those, not blind, who wait for day, Though sitting girt with doubtful light.

Make knowledge circle with the winds;
But let her herald, Reverence, fly
Before her to whatever sky

Bear seed of men and growth of minds.

Watch what main-currents draw the years:

Cut Prejudice against the grain:

But gentle words are always gain :

Regard the weakness of thy peers:

Nor toil for title, place, or touch

Of pension, neither count on praise :
It grows to guerdon after-days:

Nor deal in watchwords overmuch;