Verse > Anthologies > Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. > The Oxford Book of English Verse
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Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
  
William Wordsworth. 1770–1850
  
531. Ode to Duty
  
STERN Daughter of the Voice of God! 
O Duty! if that name thou love, 
Who art a light to guide, a rod 
To check the erring and reprove; 
Thou, who art victory and law         5
When empty terrors overawe; 
From vain temptations dost set free; 
And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity! 
 
There are who ask not if thine eye 
Be on them; who, in love and truth,  10
Where no misgiving is, rely 
Upon the genial sense of youth: 
Glad hearts! without reproach or blot; 
Who do thy work, and know it not: 
O, if through confidence misplaced  15
They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast. 
 
Serene will be our days and bright, 
And happy will our nature be, 
When love is an unerring light, 
And joy its own security.  20
And they a blissful course may hold 
Even now, who, not unwisely bold, 
Live in the spirit of this creed; 
Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need. 
 
I, loving freedom, and untried;  25
No sport of every random gust, 
Yet being to myself a guide, 
Too blindly have reposed my trust: 
And oft, when in my heart was heard 
Thy timely mandate, I deferr'd  30
The task, in smoother walks to stray; 
But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may. 
 
Through no disturbance of my soul, 
Or strong compunction in me wrought, 
I supplicate for thy control;  35
But in the quietness of thought. 
Me this uncharter'd freedom tires; 
I feel the weight of chance-desires; 
My hopes no more must change their name, 
I long for a repose that ever is the same.  40
 
Yet not the less would I throughout 
Still act according to the voice 
Of my own wish; and feel past doubt 
That my submissiveness was choice: 
Not seeking in the school of pride  45
For 'precepts over dignified,' 
Denial and restraint I prize 
No farther than they breed a second Will more wise. 
 
Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear 
The Godhead's most benignant grace;  50
Nor know we anything so fair 
As is the smile upon thy face: 
Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, 
And fragrance in thy footing treads; 
Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong;  55
And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong. 
 
To humbler functions, awful Power! 
I call thee: I myself commend 
Unto thy guidance from this hour; 
O, let my weakness have an end!  60
Give unto me, made lowly wise, 
The spirit of self-sacrifice; 
The confidence of reason give; 
And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live! 
 
 
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