Society and the World

Stern daughter of the voice of God! O Duty!

Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart; Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life’s common way, In cheerful godliness.

We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.

We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.

We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.

Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters.

Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man’s unconquerable mind.

Once did she hold the gorgeous east in fee: And was the safeguard of the west.

Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.

Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will! Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty.

I traveled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor, England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.

I traveled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor, England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.

One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother’s grave?

One great society alone on earth: The noble Living and the noble Dead.

But Europe at that time was thrilled with joy, France standing on the top of golden hours, And human nature seeming born again.

Of Newton with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.

Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society.

His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love.

Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher.

One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.

Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man?

It’s guid to be merry and wise, It’s guid to be honest and true, It’s guid to support Caledonia’s cause And bide by the buff and the blue.

For a’ that and a’ that, It’s coming yet, for a’ that, That man to man the world o’er Shall brothers be for a’ that.