Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
William Wordsworth. 17701850531. Ode to Duty
STERN Daughter of the Voice of God! | |
O Duty! if that name thou love, | |
Who art a light to guide, a rod | |
To check the erring and reprove; | |
Thou, who art victory and law | 5 |
When empty terrors overawe; | |
From vain temptations dost set free; | |
And calm’st the weary strife of frail humanity! | |
There are who ask not if thine eye | |
Be on them; who, in love and truth, | 10 |
Where no misgiving is, rely | |
Upon the genial sense of youth: | |
Glad hearts! without reproach or blot; | |
Who do thy work, and know it not: | |
O, if through confidence misplaced | 15 |
They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast. | |
Serene will be our days and bright, | |
And happy will our nature be, | |
When love is an unerring light, | |
And joy its own security. | 20 |
And they a blissful course may hold | |
Even now, who, not unwisely bold, | |
Live in the spirit of this creed; | |
Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need. | |
I, loving freedom, and untried; | 25 |
No sport of every random gust, | |
Yet being to myself a guide, | |
Too blindly have reposed my trust: | |
And oft, when in my heart was heard | |
Thy timely mandate, I deferr’d | 30 |
The task, in smoother walks to stray; | |
But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may. | |
Through no disturbance of my soul, | |
Or strong compunction in me wrought, | |
I supplicate for thy control; | 35 |
But in the quietness of thought. | |
Me this uncharter’d freedom tires; | |
I feel the weight of chance-desires; | |
My hopes no more must change their name, | |
I long for a repose that ever is the same. | 40 |
Yet not the less would I throughout | |
Still act according to the voice | |
Of my own wish; and feel past doubt | |
That my submissiveness was choice: | |
Not seeking in the school of pride | 45 |
For ‘precepts over dignified,’ | |
Denial and restraint I prize | |
No farther than they breed a second Will more wise. | |
Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear | |
The Godhead’s most benignant grace; | 50 |
Nor know we anything so fair | |
As is the smile upon thy face: | |
Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, | |
And fragrance in thy footing treads; | |
Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; | 55 |
And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong. | |
To humbler functions, awful Power! | |
I call thee: I myself commend | |
Unto thy guidance from this hour; | |
O, let my weakness have an end! | 60 |
Give unto me, made lowly wise, | |
The spirit of self-sacrifice; | |
The confidence of reason give; | |
And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live! |