III - To a Friend

COMPOSED NEAR CALAIS,
On the Road leading to Ardres, August 7th, 1802.
  Jones! when from Calais southward you and I
  Travell'd on foot together; then this Way,
  Which I am pacing now, was like the May
  With festivals of new-born Liberty:
  A homeless sound of joy was in the Sky;
  The antiquated Earth, as one might say,
  Beat like the heart of Man: songs, garlands, play,
  Banners, and happy faces, far and nigh!
  And now, sole register that these things were,
  Two solitary greetings have I heard,
  "_Good morrow, Citizen_!" a hollow word,
  As if a dead Man spake it! Yet despair
  I feel not: happy am I as a Bird:
  Fair seasons yet will come, and hopes as fair.

• About William Wordsworth