HERE pause: the poet claims at least this praise, <br />That virtuous Liberty hath been the scope <br />Of his pure song, which did not shrink from hope <br />In the worst moment of these evil days; <br />From hope, the paramount 'duty' that Heaven lays, <br />For its own honour, on man's suffering heart. <br />Never may from our souls one truth depart-- <br />That an accursed thing it is to gaze <br />On prosperous tyrants with a dazzled eye; <br />Nor--touched with due abhorrence of 'their' guilt <br />For whose dire ends tears flow, and blood is spilt, <br />And justice labours in extremity-- <br />Forget thy weakness, upon which is built, <br />O wretched man, the throne of tyranny!<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/here-pause-the-poet-claims-at-least-this-praise/
