Analysis of Written in London. September, 1802

.   O Friend! I know not which way I must look
   For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,
   To think that now our life is only drest
   For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook,
   Or groom! -- We must run glittering like a brook
   In the open sunshine, or we are unblest:
   The wealthiest man among us is the best:
   No grandeur now in nature or in book
   Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense,
  This is idolatry; and these we adore:
  Plain living and high thinking are no more:
  The homely beauty of the good old cause
  Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence,
  And pure religion breathing household laws.