Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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"ERE WITH COLD BEADS OF MIDNIGHT DEW"

          ERE with cold beads of midnight dew
            Had mingled tears of thine,
          I grieved, fond Youth! that thou shouldst sue
            To haughty Geraldine.

          Immoveable by generous sighs,
            She glories in a train
          Who drag, beneath our native skies,
            An oriental chain.

          Pine not like them with arms across,
            Forgetting in thy care                                    10
          How the fast-rooted trees can toss
            Their branches in mid air.

          The humblest rivulet will take
            Its own wild liberties;
          And, every day, the imprisoned lake
            Is flowing in the breeze.

          Then, crouch no more on suppliant knee,
            But scorn with scorn outbrave;
          A Briton, even in love, should be
            A subject, not a slave!                                   20
                                                              1826.


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