Now that all hearts are glad, all faces bright,
Our aged Sovereign sits, to the ebb and flow
Of states and kingdoms, to their joy or woe,
Insensible. He sits deprived of sight,
And lamentably wrapt in twofold night,
Whom no weak hopes deceived; whose mind ensued,
Through perilous war, with regal fortitude,
Peace that should claim respect from lawless Might.
Dread King of Kings, vouchsafe a ray divine
To his forlorn condition! let thy grace
Upon his inner soul in mercy shine;
Permit his heart to kindle, and to embrace
(Though it were only for a moment’s space)
The triumphs of this hour; for they are THINE!
Other works by William Wordsworth...
Influence of Natural Objects in Calling Forth and Strengthening the Imagination in Boyhood and Early Youth
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe
Thou Soul, that art the Eternity
And giv’st to forms and images a b
And everlasting motion! not in vai
By day or star—light, thus from my