| Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury. 1875. |
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| W. Wordsworth |
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| CCXII. London, 1802 |
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| O FRIEND! I know not which way I must look | |
| For comfort, being, as I am, opprest | |
| To think that now our life is only drest | |
| For show—mean handiwork of craftsman, cook, | |
| Or groom!—We must run glittering like a brook | 5 |
| In the open sunshine, or we are unblest; | |
| The wealthiest man among us is the best. | |
| No grandeur now in nature or in book | |
| Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense, | |
| This is idolatry; and these we adore— | 10 |
| Plain living and high thinking are no more. | |
| The homely beauty of the good old cause | |
| Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, | |
| And pure religion breathing household laws. | |
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