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1770–1850

UPON THE LATE GENERAL FAST

William Wordsworth

Reluctant call it was; the rite delayed; And in the Senate some there were who doffed The last of their humanity, and scoffed At providential judgments,undismayed

By their own daring. But the People prayed As with one voice; their flinty heart grew soft With penitential sorrow, and aloft Their spirit mounted, crying, “God us aid!”

Oh that with aspirations more intense, Chastised by self-abasement more profound, This People, onceso happy, so renowned For liberty, would seek from God defence

Against far heavier ill, the pestilence Of revolution, impiously unbound!

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UPON THE LATE GENERAL FAST · William Wordsworth · Poetry Cove