Verse > Anthologies > Francis T. Palgrave, ed. > The Golden Treasury
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Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury.  1875.
 
W. Wordsworth
 
CCVIII. 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 
  Ev'n now, who, not unwisely bold, 
  Live in the spirit of this creed, 
Yet find that other strength 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 which ever is the same.  40
  
  Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear 
  The Godhead's most benignant grace; 
  Nor know we anything so fair 
  As is the smile upon thy face: 
  Flowers laugh before thee on their beds,  45
  And fragrance in thy footing treads; 
  Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong, 
And the most ancient heavens, through thee, are fresh and strong. 
  
  To humbler functions, awful Power! 
  I call thee: I myself commend  50
  Unto thy guidance from this hour. 
  O let my weakness have an end! 
  Give unto me, made lowly wise, 
  The spirit of self-sacrifice; 
  The confidence of reason give;  55
And in the light of Truth thy bondman let me live! 
 
 
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