TMA4
Posted by:
Victor (---.server.ntli.net)
Date: May 14, 2022 06:32PM
Hi all,
I have been looking through the TMA Booklet ahead to TMA4 and this one seems a difficult one. We are all going to need each other's help. I did not purchase the Romantic Writings - An Anthology Book due to lack of funds. I have sourced the text on the internet for TMA4 and would really appreciate it if someone with access to the book Romantic Writings - An Anthology could confirm if these extracts are the correct ones for me to work from? Thanks all.
INSTRUCTIONS,
SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN IN PARIS,
FOR THE MOB IN ENGLAND .
OF Liberty, Reform, and Rights I sing,
Freedom I mean, without or Church or King;
Freedom to seize and keep whate'er I can,
And boldly claim my right – The Rights of Man:
Such is the Blessed liberty in vogue,
The envied liberty to be a rogue;
The right to pay no taxes, tithes, or dues;
The liberty to do what'er I chuse;
The right to take by violence and strife
My neighbour's goods, and, if I please, his life;
The liberty to raise a mob or riot,
For spoil and plunder ne'er were got by quiet;
The right to level and reform the great;
The liberty to overturn the state;
The right to break through all the nation's laws
And boldly dare to take rebellion's cause:
Let all be equal, every man my brother;
Why one have property, and not another?
Why suffer titles to give awe and fear?
There shall not long remain one British peer;
Nor shall the criminal appalled stand
Before the mighty judges of the land;
Nor judge, nor jury shall there longer be,
Nor any jail, but every pris'ner free;
All law abolish'd, and with sword in hand
We'll seize the property of all the land.
Then hail to Liberty, Reform, and Riot!
Adieu contentment, Safety, Peace, and Quiet! (48-49)
Mary Alcock
THE PRELUDE
BOOK TENTH
RESIDENCE IN FRANCE
And perfect triumph for the better cause. 30
The State--as if to stamp the final seal
On her security, and to the world
Show what she was, a high and fearless soul,
Exulting in defiance, or heart-stung
By sharp resentment, or belike to taunt
With spiteful gratitude the baffled League,
That had stirred up her slackening faculties
To a new transition--when the King was crushed,
Spared not the empty throne, and in proud haste
Assumed the body and venerable name 40
Of a Republic. Lamentable crimes,
'Tis true, had gone before this hour, dire work
Of massacre, in which the senseless sword
Was prayed to as a judge; but these were past,
Earth free from them for ever, as was thought,--
Ephemeral monsters, to be seen but once!
Things that could only show themselves and die.
Cheered with this hope, to Paris I returned,
And ranged, with ardour heretofore unfelt,
The spacious city, and in progress passed 50
The prison where the unhappy Monarch lay,
Associate with his children and his wife
In bondage; and the palace, lately stormed
With roar of cannon by a furious host.
I crossed the square (an empty area then!)
Of the Carrousel, where so late had lain
The dead, upon the dying heaped, and gazed
On this and other spots, as doth a man
Upon a volume whose contents he knows
Are memorable, but from him locked up, 60
Being written in a tongue he cannot read,
So that he questions the mute leaves with pain,
And half upbraids their silence. But that night
I felt most deeply in what world I was,
What ground I trod on, and what air I breathed.
High was my room and lonely, near the roof
Of a large mansion or hotel, a lodge
That would have pleased me in more quiet times;
Nor was it wholly without pleasure then.
With unextinguished taper I kept watch, 70
Reading at intervals; the fear gone by
Pressed on me almost like a fear to come.
I thought of those September massacres,
Divided from me by one little month,
Saw them and touched: the rest was conjured up
From tragic fictions or true history,
Remembrances and dim admonishments.
The horse is taught his manage, and no star
Of wildest course but treads back his own steps;
For the spent hurricane the air provides 80
As fierce a successor; the tide retreats
But to return out of its hiding-place
In the great deep; all things have second birth;
The earthquake is not satisfied at once;
And in this way I wrought upon myself,
Until I seemed to hear a voice that cried,
To the whole city, "Sleep no more." The trance
Fled with the voice to which it had given birth;
But vainly comments of a calmer mind
Promised soft peace and sweet forgetfulness. 90