richard mitchley - november 1813 by william wordsworth lyrics
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now that all hearts are glad, all faces bright
our aged sovereign sits, to the ebb and flow
of states and kingdoms, to their joy or woe
insensible. he sits deprived of sight
and lamentably wrapt in twofold night
whom no weak hopes deceived; whose mind ensued
through perilous war, with regal fortitude
peace that should claim respect from lawless might
dread king of kings, vouchsafe a ray divine
to his forlorn condition! let thy grace
upon his inner soul in mercy shine;
permit his hеart to kindle, and to embrace
(though it wеre only for a moment’s sp+ce)
the triumphs of this hour; for they are thine!
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