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Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour;Milton! Thou Should'st Be Living At This Hour
``` Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour; England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. 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; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay. ```
Milton! you should be alive right now; England needs you: she is a swamp Of still waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the noble wealth of hall and home, Have lost their ancient English gift Of inner happiness. We are selfish men; Oh! lift us up, come back to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Your soul was like a star and lived alone; You had a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the bare heavens, grand, free, So you traveled on life's ordinary path, In joyful goodness; and yet your heart Took on the simplest duties upon itself.