Milton! Thou Shouldst 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; O 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.