Calais August 1802 by William Wordsworth

Lyrics

Is it a reed that's shaken by the wind Or what is it that ye go forth to see? Lords, lawyers, statesmen, squires of low degree Men known, and men unknown, sick, lame, and blind Post forward all, like creatures of one kind With first-fruit offerings crowd to bend the knee In France, before the new-born Majesty 'Tis ever thus. Ye men of prostrate mind A seemly reverence may be paid to power; But that's a loyal virtue, never sown In haste, nor springing with a transient shower: When truth, whеn sense, when libеrty were flown What hardship had it been to wait an hour? Shame on you, feeble Heads, to slavery prone!