None sang of Love more nobly; few as well;
Of Friendship none with pathos as profound;
Of Duty sternliest-proved when myrtle-crowned;
Of English grove and rivulet, mead and dell:
Great Arthur's Legend he alone dared tell;
Milton and Dryden feared to tread that ground;
For him alone o'er Camelot's faery bound
The horns of Elfland' blew their magic spell.
Since Shakespeare and since Wordsworth none hath sung
So well his England's greatness; none hath given
Reproof more fearless or advice more sage:
None inlier taught how near to earth is Heaven;
With what vast concords Nature's harp is strung;
How base false pride;-faction's fanatic rage.
From XIX Century Magazine, xxxii: 841