textvariantfootnoteline number
Jones! as from Calais southward you and I
Went pacing side by side, this public Way
Streamed with the pomp of a too-credulous day,
When faith was pledged to new-born Liberty:
A homeless sound of joy was in the sky:
From hour to hour the antiquated Earth,
Beat like the heart of Man: songs, garlands, mirth,
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
Touches me not, though pensive as a bird
Whose vernal coverts winter hath laid bare.
[Note]
[Contents 1802]
[Main Contents]		[1]
[2]
[3]
[4]
[5]
[B]

5
10

[Variant 1:]

1837
... when ...1807
... while ... 1820

... when ...

... while ...

[return]

[Variant 2:]

1837
Travell'd on foot together; then this Way,
Which I am pacing now, was like the May
With festivals of new-born Liberty:

1807
Where I am walking now ...MS.
Urged our accordant steps, this public Way
Streamed with the pomp of a too-credulous day,
When faith was pledged to new-born Liberty:

1820

Travell'd on foot together; then this Way,
Which I am pacing now, was like the May
With festivals of new-born Liberty: