Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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OCTOBER 1803

          ONE might believe that natural miseries
          Had blasted France, and made of it a land
          Unfit for men; and that in one great band
          Her sons were bursting forth, to dwell at ease.
          But 'tis a chosen soil, where sun and breeze
          Shed gentle favours: rural works are there,
          And ordinary business without care;
          Spot rich in all things that can soothe and please!
          How piteous then that there should be such dearth
          Of knowledge; that whole myriads should unite               10
          To work against themselves such fell despite:
          Should come in phrensy and in drunken mirth,
          Impatient to put out the only light
          Of Liberty that yet remains on earth!


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