Milton, England needs you now. It has abandoned the plow and left its babies behind the barn. Correct us with your pen. England has slipped into the fen.

Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour

— by William Wordsworth

Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; O! raise us up, return to us again, And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power, Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart: Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life’s common way, In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.