Chapter XI: Part 11

[Footnote A: It is unfortunate that in this, as in many other similar occasions in these delightful volumes by the poet's nephew, the reticence as to names--warrantable perhaps in 1851, so soon after the poet's death--has now deprived the world of every means of knowing to whom many of Wordsworth's letters were addressed. Professor Dowden asks about it--and very naturally:

"Was it the letter to Mary and Sara" (Hutchinson) "about 'The
Leech-Gatherer,' mentioned in Dorothy's Journal of 14th June
1802?"

Ed.]

* * * * *

"I GRIEVED FOR BUONAPARTÉ"

Composed May 21, 1802.--Published 1807 [A]

[In the cottage of Town-end, one afternoon in 1801, my sister read to me the sonnets of Milton. I had long been well acquainted with them, but I was particularly struck on that occasion with the dignified simplicity and majestic harmony that runs through most of them--in character so totally different from the Italian, and still more so from Shakespeare's fine sonnets. I took fire, if I may be allowed to say so, and produced three sonnets the same afternoon, the first I ever wrote, except an irregular one at school. Of these three the only one I distinctly remember is 'I grieved for Buonaparté, etc.'; one of the others was never written down; the third, which was I believe preserved, I cannot particularise.--I.F.]

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty," afterwards called "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty." From the edition of 1815 onwards, it bore the title '1801'.--Ed.

I grieved for Buonaparté, with a vain
And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood [1]
Of that Man's mind--what can it be? what food
Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could _he_ gain?
'Tis not in battles that from youth we train 5
The Governor who must be wise and good,
And temper with the sternness of the brain
Thoughts motherly, and meek as womanhood.
Wisdom doth live with children round her knees:
Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the talk 10
Man holds with week-day man in the hourly walk
Of the mind's business: these are the degrees
By which true Sway doth mount; this is the stalk
True Power doth grow on; and her rights are these.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1837.

... grief! the vital blood
Of that man's mind, what can it be? What food
Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could he gain? 1802.

... grief! for, who aspires
To genuine greatness but from just desires,
And knowledge such as _He_ could never gain? 1815.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: It had twice seen the light previously in 'The Morning Post', first on September 16, 1802, unsigned, and again on January 29, 1803, when it was signed W. L. D.--Ed.]

Wordsworth's date 1801, in the Fenwick note, should have been 1802. His sister writes, in her Journal of 1802:

"May 21.--W. wrote two sonnets on Buonaparte, after I had read
Milton's sonnets to him."

The "irregular" sonnet, written "at school," to which Wordsworth refers, is probably the one published in the 'European Magazine' in 1787, vol. xi. p. 202, and signed Axiologus.--Ed.

* * * * *

A FAREWELL

Composed May 29, 1802.--Published 1815

[Composed just before my Sister and I went to fetch Mrs. Wordsworth from Gallow-hill, near Scarborough.--I.F.]

This was one of the "Poems founded on the Affections." It was published in 1815 and in 1820 without a title, but with the sub-title 'Composed in the Year 1802'. In 1827 and 1832 it was called 'A Farewell', to which the sub-title was added. The sub-title was omitted in 1836, and afterwards.--Ed.

Farewell, thou little Nook of mountain-ground,
Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair
Of that magnificent temple which doth bound
One side of our whole vale with grandeur rare;
Sweet garden-orchard, eminently fair, 5
The loveliest spot that man hath ever found,
Farewell!--we leave thee to Heaven's peaceful care,
Thee, and the Cottage which thou dost surround.

Our boat is safely anchored by the shore,
And there will safely ride [1] when we are gone; 10
The flowering shrubs that deck our humble door [2]
Will prosper, though untended and alone:
Fields, goods, and far-off chattels we have none:
These narrow bounds contain our private store
Of things earth makes, and sun doth shine upon; 15
Here are they in our sight--we have no more.

Sunshine and shower be with you, bud and bell!
For two months now in vain we shall be sought;
We leave you here in solitude to dwell
With these our latest gifts of tender thought; 20
Thou, like the morning, in thy saffron coat,
Bright gowan, and marsh-marigold, farewell!
Whom from the borders of the Lake we brought,
And placed together near our rocky Well.

We go for One to whom ye will be dear; 25
And she will prize this Bower, this Indian shed,
Our own contrivance, Building without peer!
--A gentle Maid, whose heart is lowly bred,
Whose pleasures are in wild fields gathered,
With joyousness, and with a thoughtful cheer, 30
Will come [3] to you; to you herself will wed;
And love the blessed life that [4] we lead here.

Dear Spot! which we have watched with tender heed,
Bringing thee chosen plants and blossoms blown
Among the distant mountains, flower and weed, 35
Which thou hast taken to thee as thy own.
Making all kindness registered and known;
Thou for our sakes, though Nature's child indeed,
Fair in thyself and beautiful alone,
Hast taken gifts which thou dost little need. 40

And O most constant, yet most fickle Place,
That hast thy wayward moods, as thou dost show
To them who look not daily on [5] thy face;
Who, being loved, in love no bounds dost know,
And say'st, when we forsake thee, "Let them go!" 45
Thou easy-hearted Thing, with thy wild race
Of weeds and flowers, till we return be slow,
And travel with the year at a soft pace.

Help us to tell Her tales of years gone by,
And this sweet spring, the best beloved and best; 50
Joy will be flown in its mortality;
Something must stay to tell us of the rest.
Here, thronged with primroses, the steep rock's breast
Glittered at evening like a starry sky;
And in this bush our sparrow built her nest, 55
Of which I sang [6] one song that will not die. [A]

O happy Garden! whose seclusion deep
Hath been so friendly to industrious hours;
And to soft slumbers, that did gently steep
Our spirits, carrying with them dreams of flowers, 60
And wild notes warbled among leafy bowers;
Two burning months let summer overleap,
And, coming back with Her who will be ours,
Into thy bosom we again shall creep.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1836.

And safely she will ride ... 1815.

... will she ... 1832.]

[Variant 2:

1836.

... that decorate our door 1815.]

[Variant 3:

1820.

She'll come ... 1815.]

[Variant 4:

1827.

... which ... 1815]

[Variant 5:

1827.

... in ... 1815.]

[Variant 6:

1832.

... sung ... 1815.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: See 'The Sparrow's Nest', p. 236.--Ed.]

"May 29.--William finished his poem on going for Mary. I wrote it out.
A sweet day. We nailed up the honeysuckle and hoed the scarlet beans."

She added on the 31st,

"I wrote out the poem on our departure, which he seemed to have
finished;"

and on June 13th,

"William has been altering the poem to Mary this morning."

The "little Nook of mountain-ground" is in much the same condition now, as it was in 1802. The "flowering shrubs" and the "rocky well" still exist, and "the steep rock's breast" is "thronged with primroses" in spring. The "bower" is gone; but, where it used to be, a seat is now erected.

The Dove Cottage orchard is excellently characterised in Mr. Stopford Brooke's pamphlet describing it (1890). See also 'The Green Linnet', p. 367, with the note appended to it, and Dorothy Wordsworth's Grasmere Journal, _passim_.--Ed.

* * * * *

"THE SUN HAS LONG BEEN SET"

Composed June 8, 1802.--Published 1807

[This _Impromptu_ appeared, many years ago, among the Author's poems, from which, in subsequent editions, it was excluded. [A] It is reprinted, at the request of the Friend in whose presence the lines were thrown off.--I.F.]

One of the "Evening Voluntaries."--Ed.

The sun has long been set,
The stars are out by twos and threes,
The little birds are piping yet
Among the bushes and trees; [1]
There's a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes, 5
And a far-off wind that rushes,
And a sound of water that gushes, [2]
And the cuckoo's sovereign cry
Fills all the hollow of the sky.

Who would go "parading" 10
In London, "and masquerading," [B]
On such a night of June
With that beautiful soft half-moon,
And all these innocent blisses?
On such a night as this is! 15

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1807.

... and the trees; 1836.

The edition of 1837 returns to the text of 1807.]

[Variant 2:

1835.

And a noise of wind that rushes,
With a noise of water that gushes; 1807.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: It appeared in 1807 as No. II. of "Moods of my own Mind," and not again till the publication of "Yarrow Revisited" in 1835.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: Compare:

'At operas and plays parading,
Mortgaging, gambling, masquerading.'

Burns, 'The Two Dogs, a Tale', II. 124-5.--Ed.]

"June 8th (1802).--After tea William came out and walked, and wrote
that poem, 'The sun has long been set,' etc. He walked on our own
path, and wrote the lines; he called me into the orchard and there
repeated them to me."

(Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal.) The "Friend in whose presence the lines were thrown off," was his sister.--Ed.

* * * * *

COMPOSED UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE, SEPTEMBER 3, 1802

Composed July 31, 1802.--Published 1807

[Written on the roof of a coach, on my way to France.--I.F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--Ed.

Earth has not any thing to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul [1] who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, 5
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; 10
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1807.

... heart ... MS.]

The date which Wordsworth gave to this sonnet on its first publication in 1807, viz. September 3, 1803,--and which he retained in all subsequent editions of his works till 1836,--is inaccurate. He left London for Dover, on his way to Calais, on the 31st of July 1802. The sonnet was written that morning as he travelled towards Dover. The following record of the journey is preserved in his sister's Journal:

"July 30. [A]--Left London between five and six o'clock of the morning
outside the Dover coach. A beautiful morning. The city, St. Paul's,
with the river--a multitude of little boats, made a beautiful sight as
we crossed _Westminster Bridge_; the houses not overhung by their
clouds of smoke, and were hung out endlessly; yet the sun shone so
brightly, with such a pure light, that there was something like the
purity of one of Nature's own grand spectacles."

This sonnet underwent no change in successive editions.

In illustration of it, an anecdote of the late Bishop of St. David's may be given, as reported by Lord Coleridge.

"In the great debate on the abolition of the Irish Establishment in
1869, the Bishop of St. David's, Dr. Thirlwall, had made a very
remarkable speech, and had been kept till past daybreak in the House
of Lords, before the division was over, and he was able to walk home.
He was then an old man, and in failing health. Some time after, he was
asked whether he had not run some risk to his health, and whether he
did not feel much exhausted. 'Yes,' he said, 'perhaps so; but I was
more than repaid by walking out upon Westminster Bridge after the
division, seeing London in the morning light as Wordsworth saw it, and
repeating to myself his noble sonnet as I walked home.'"

This anecdote was told to the Wordsworth Society, at its meeting on the 3rd of May 1882, after a letter had been read by the Secretary, from Mr. Robert Spence Watson, recording the following similar experience:

"... As confirming the perfect truth of Wordsworth's description of
the external aspects of a scene, and the way in which he reached its
inmost soul, I may tell you what happened to me, and may have happened
to many others. Many years ago, I think it was in 1859, I chanced to
be passing (in a pained and depressed state of mind, occasioned by the
death of a friend) over Waterloo Bridge at half-past three on a lovely
June morning. It was broad daylight, and I was alone. Never when alone
in the remotest recesses of the Alps, with nothing around me but the
mountains, or upon the plains of Africa, alone with the wonderful
glory of the southern night, have I seen anything to approach the
solemnity--the soothing solemnity--of the city, sleeping under the
early sun:

'Earth has not any thing to show more fair.'

"How simply, yet how perfectly, Wordsworth has interpreted it! It was
a happy thing for us that the Dover coach left at so untimely an hour.
It was this sonnet, I think, that first opened my eyes to Wordsworth's
greatness as a poet. Perhaps nothing that he has written shows more
strikingly the vast sympathy which is his peculiar dower."

Ed.

[Footnote A: This is an error of date. Saturday, the day of their departure from London, was the 31st of July.--Ed.]

* * * * *

COMPOSED BY THE SEA-SIDE, NEAR CALAIS, AUGUST, 1802

Composed August, 1802.--Published 1807

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--Ed.

Fair Star of evening, Splendour of the west,
Star of my Country!--on the horizon's brink
Thou hangest, stooping, as might seem, to sink
On England's bosom; yet well pleased to rest,
Meanwhile, and be to her a glorious crest 5
Conspicuous to the Nations. Thou, I think,
Should'st be my Country's emblem; and should'st wink,
Bright Star! with laughter on her banners, drest
In thy fresh beauty. There! that dusky spot
Beneath thee, that is England; there she lies. [1] 10
Blessings be on you both! one hope, one lot,
One life, one glory!--I, with many a fear
For my dear Country, many heartfelt sighs,
Among men who do not love her, linger here.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1837.

... it is England; there it lies. 1807.]

This sonnet, and the seven that follow it, were written during Wordsworth's residence at Calais, in the month of August, 1802. The following extract from his sister's Journal illustrates it:

"We arrived at _Calais_ at four o'clock on Sunday morning the 31st of
July. We had delightful walks after the heat of the day was
passed--seeing far off in the west the coast of England, like a cloud,
crested with Dover Castle, the evening Star, and the glory of the sky;
the reflections in the water were more beautiful than the sky itself;
purple waves brighter than precious stones, for ever melting away upon
the sands."

Ed.

* * * * *

CALAIS, AUGUST, 1802

Composed August 7, 1802--Published 1807 [A]

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--Ed.

Is it a reed that's shaken by the wind,
Or what is it that ye go forth to see?
Lords, lawyers, statesmen, squires of low degree,
Men known, and men unknown, sick, lame, and blind,
Post forward all, like creatures of one kind, 5
With first-fruit offerings crowd to bend the knee
In France, before the new-born Majesty.
'Tis ever thus. Ye men of prostrate mind, [1]
A seemly reverence may be paid to power;
But that's a loyal virtue, never sown 10
In haste, nor springing with a transient shower:
When truth, when sense, when liberty were flown,
What hardship had it been to wait an hour?
Shame on you, feeble Heads, to slavery prone!

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1807.

Thus fares it ever. Men of prostrate mind! 1803.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: This sonnet was first published in 'The Morning Post', Jan. 29, 1803, under the signature W. L. D., along with the one beginning, "I grieved for Buonaparté, with a vain," and was afterwards printed in the 1807 edition of the Poems. Mr. T. Hutchinson (Dublin) suggests that the W. L. D. stood either for _Wordsworthius Libertatis Defensor_, or (more likely) _Wordsworthii Libertati Dedicatunt_ (carmen).--Ed.]

* * * * *

COMPOSED NEAR CALAIS, ON THE ROAD LEADING TO ARDRES, AUGUST 7, 1802 [A]

Composed August, 1802.--Published 1807

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--Ed.

Jones! as [1] from Calais southward you and I
Went pacing side by side, this public Way
Streamed with the pomp of a too-credulous day, [B]
When faith was pledged to new-born Liberty: [2]
A homeless sound of joy was in the sky: 5
From hour to hour the antiquated Earth, [3]
Beat like the heart of Man: songs, garlands, mirth, [4]
Banners, and happy faces, far and nigh!
And now, sole register that these things were,
Two solitary greetings have I heard, 10
"_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. [5]

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1837.

... when ... 1807.

... while ... 1820.]

[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.]

[Variant 3:

1845.

The antiquated Earth, as one might say, 1807.

The antiquated Earth, hopeful and gay, 1837.]

[Variant 4:

1845.

... garlands, play, 1807.]

[Variant 5:

1827.

I feel not: happy am I as a Bird:
Fair seasons yet will come, and hopes as fair. 1807.

I feel not: jocund as a warbling Bird; 1820.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: In the editions of 1807 to 1837 this is a sub-title, the chief title being 'To a Friend'. In the editions of 1840-1843, the chief title is retained in the Table of Contents, but is erased in the text.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: 14th July 1790.--W. W. 1820.]

This sonnet, originally entitled 'To a Friend, composed near Calais, on the Road leading to Ardres, August 7th, 1802', was addressed to Robert Jones, of Plas-yn-llan, near Ruthin, Denbighshire, a brother collegian at Cambridge, and afterwards a fellow of St. John's College, and incumbent of Soulderne, near Deddington, in Oxfordshire. It was to him that Wordsworth dedicated his 'Descriptive Sketches', which record their wanderings together in Switzerland; and it is to the pedestrian tour, undertaken by the two friends in the long vacation of 1790, that he refers in the above sonnet. The character of Jones is sketched in the poem written in 1800, beginning:

'I marvel how Nature could ever find space,' [A]

and his parsonage in Oxfordshire is described in the sonnet--

'Where holy ground begins, unhallowed ends,
Is marked by no distinguishable line.'

The following note on Jones was appended to the edition of 1837:

"This excellent Person, one of my earliest and dearest friends, died
in the year 1835. We were under-graduates together of the same year,
at the same college; and companions in many a delightful ramble
through his own romantic Country of North Wales. Much of the latter
part of his life he passed in comparative solitude; which I know was
often cheered by remembrance of our youthful adventures, and of the
beautiful regions which, at home and abroad, we had visited together.
Our long friendship was never subject to a moment's
interruption,--and, while revising these volumes for the last time, I
have been so often reminded of my loss, with a not unpleasing sadness,
that I trust the Reader will excuse this passing mention of a Man who
well deserves from me something more than so brief a notice. Let me
only add, that during the middle part of his life he resided many
years (as Incumbent of the Living) at a Parsonage in Oxfordshire,
which is the subject of one of the 'Miscellaneous Sonnets.'"

Ed.

[Footnote A: See p. 208 ['A Character'].--Ed.]

* * * * *

CALAIS, AUGUST 15, 1802

Composed August 15, 1802.--Published 1807 [A]

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--Ed.

Festivals have I seen that were not names:
This is young Buonaparte's natal day,
And his is henceforth an established sway--
Consul for life. With worship France proclaims
Her approbation, and with pomps and games. 5
Heaven grant that other Cities may be gay!
Calais is not: and I have bent my way
To the [1] sea-coast, noting that each man frames
His business as he likes. Far other show
My youth here witnessed, in a prouder time; [2] 10
The senselessness of joy was then sublime!
Happy is he, who, caring not for Pope,
Consul, or King, can sound himself to know
The destiny of Man, and live in hope.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1807.

... this ... 1803.]

[Variant 2:

1827.

... Another time
That was, when I was here twelve years ago. 1803.

... long years ago: 1807.

... Far different time
That was, which here I witnessed, long ago; 1820.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: It had appeared in 'The Morning Post', February 26, 1803, under the initials W. L. D.--Ed.]

* * * * *

"IT IS A BEAUTEOUS EVENING, CALM AND FREE"

Composed August, 1802.--Published 1807

[This was composed on the beach near Calais, in the autumn of 1802.--I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." In 1807 it was No. 19 of that series.--Ed.

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, [1]
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: [2] 5
Listen! [3] the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder--everlastingly.
Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, [A]
If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, [4] 10
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year;
And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not. [B]

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1807.

Air sleeps,--from strife or stir the clouds are free; 1837.

A fairer face of evening cannot be; 1840.

The text of 1845 returns to that of 1807.]

[Variant 2:

1837.

... is on the Sea: 1807.]

[Variant 3:

1807.

But list! ... 1837.

The text of 1840 returns to that of 1807.]

[Variant 4:

1845.

Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
If thou appear'st untouch'd by solemn thought, 1807.

Dear Child! dear happy Girl! if thou appear
Heedless--untouched with awe or serious thought, 1837.

Heedless-unawed, untouched with serious thought, 1838.

The text of 1840 returns to that of 1807.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: I thought, for some time, that the "girl" referred to was Dorothy Wordsworth. Her brother used to speak, and to write, of her under many names, "Emily," "Louisa," etc.; and to call her a "child" in 1802--a "child of Nature" she was to the end of her days--or a "girl," seemed quite natural. However, a more probable suggestion was made by Mr. T. Hutchinson to Professor Dowden, that it refers to the girl Caroline mentioned in Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal.

"We arrived at Calais at four o'clock on Sunday morning, the 3rd of
July.... We found out Annette and C., chez Madame Avril dans la rue de
la Tête d'or. The weather was very hot. We walked by the shore almost
every evening with Annette and Caroline, or William and I alone.... It
was beautiful on the calm hot night to see the little boats row out of
harbour with wings of fire, and the sail-boats with the fiery track
which they cut as they went along, and which closed up after them with
a hundred thousand sparkles and streams of glowworm light. Caroline
was delighted."

I have been unable to discover who Annette and Caroline were. Dorothy Wordsworth frequently records in her Grasmere Journal that either William, or she, "wrote to Annette," but who she was is unknown to either the Wordsworth or the Hutchinson family.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: Compare:

'The Child is father of the Man, etc.'

p. 292.

Also S. T. C. in 'The Friend', iii. p. 46:

'The sacred light of childhood,'

and 'The Prelude', book v. l. 507. Ed.]

* * * * *

ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC

Composed August, 1802.--Published 1807

This and the following ten sonnets were included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--Ed.

Once did She hold the gorgeous east in fee;
And was the safeguard of the west: the worth
Of Venice did not fall below her birth,
Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty.
She was a maiden City, bright and free; 5
No guile seduced, no force could violate;
And, when she took unto herself a Mate,
She must espouse the everlasting Sea. [A]
And what if she had seen those glories fade,
Those titles vanish, and that strength decay; 10
Yet shall some tribute of regret be paid
When her long life hath reached its final day:
Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade
Of that which once was great, is passed away.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: Compare 'Childe Harold's Pilgrimage' (canto iv. II):

'The spouseless Adriatic mourns her lord.'

Ed.]

"Once did She hold the gorgeous east in fee."

The special glory of Venice dates from the conquest of Constantinople by the Latins in 1202. The fourth Crusade--in which the French and Venetians alone took part--started from Venice, in October 1202, under the command of the Doge, Henry Dandolo. Its aim, however, was not the recovery of Palestine, but the conquest of Constantinople. At the close of the crusade, Venice received the Morea, part of Thessaly, the Cyclades, many of the Byzantine cities, and the coasts of the Hellespont, with three-eighths of the city of Constantinople itself, the Doge taking the curious title of Duke of three-eighths of the Roman Empire.

"And was the safeguard of the west."

This may refer to the prominent part which Venice took in the Crusades, or to the development of her naval power, which made her mistress of the Mediterranean for many years, and an effective bulwark against invasions from the East.

"The eldest Child of Liberty."

The origin of the Venetian State was the flight of many of the inhabitants of the mainland--on the invasion of Italy by Attila--to the chain of islands that lie at the head of the Adriatic.

"In the midst of the waters, free, indigent, laborious, and
inaccessible, they gradually coalesced into a republic: the first
foundations of Venice were laid in the island of Rialto.... On the
verge of the two empires the Venetians exult in the belief of
primitive and perpetual independence."

Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire', chap. lx.

"And, when she took unto herself a Mate,
She must espouse the everlasting Sea."

In 1177, Pope Alexander III. appealed to the Venetian Republic for protection against the German Emperor. The Venetians were successful in a naval battle at Saboro, against Otho, the son of Frederick Barbarossa. In return, the Pope presented the Doge Liani with a ring, with which he told him to wed the Adriatic, that posterity might know that the sea was subject to Venice, "as a bride is to her husband."

In September 1796, nearly six years before this sonnet was written, the fate of the old Venetian Republic was sealed by the treaty of Campo Formio. The French army under Napoleon had subdued Italy, and, having crossed the Alps, threatened Vienna. To avert impending disaster, the Emperor Francis arranged a treaty which extinguished the Venetian Republic. He divided its territory between himself and Napoleon, Austria retaining Istria, Dalmatia, and the left bank of the Adige in the Venetian State, with the "maiden city" itself; France receiving the rest of the territory and the Ionian Islands. Since the date of that treaty the city has twice been annexed to Italy.--Ed.

* * * * *

THE KING OF SWEDEN

Composed August, 1802.--Published 1807

The Voice of song from distant lands shall call
To that great [1] King; shall hail the crownèd Youth
Who, taking counsel of unbending Truth,
By one example hath set forth to all
How they with dignity may stand; or fall, 5
If fall they must. Now, whither doth it tend?
And what to him and his shall be the end?
That thought is one which neither can appal
Nor cheer him; for the illustrious Swede hath done
The thing which ought to be; is raised _above_ [2] 10
All consequences: work he hath begun
Of fortitude, and piety, and love,
Which all his glorious ancestors approve:
The heroes bless him, him their rightful son.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1807.

... bold ... In 1838 only.]

[Variant 2:

1845.

... He stands _above_ 1807.]

The following is Wordsworth's note to this sonnet, added in 1837:

"In this and a succeeding Sonnet on the same subject, let me be
understood as a Poet availing himself of the situation which the King
of Sweden occupied, and of the principles AVOWED IN HIS MANIFESTOS; as
laying hold of these advantages for the purpose of embodying moral
truths. This remark might, perhaps, as well have been suppressed; for
to those who may be in sympathy with the course of these Poems, it
will be superfluous; and will, I fear, be thrown away upon that other
class, whose besotted admiration of the intoxicated despot hereafter
placed [A] in contrast with him, is the most melancholy evidence of
degradation in British feeling and intellect which the times have
furnished."

The king referred to is Gustavus IV., who was born in 1778, proclaimed king in 1792, and died in 1837. His first public act after his accession was to join in the coalition against Napoleon, and dislike of Napoleon was the main-spring of his policy. It is to this that Wordsworth refers in the sonnet:

'... the illustrious Swede hath done
The thing which ought to be ...'

It made him unpopular, however, and gave rise to a conspiracy against him, and to his consequent abdication in 1809. He "died forgotten and in poverty."--Ed.

[Footnote A: See the sonnet beginning "Call not the royal Swede unfortunate," vol. iv. p. 224.--Ed.]

* * * * *

TO TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE

Composed August, 1802.--Published 1807 [A]

Toussaint, the most unhappy man of men! [B]
Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough
Within thy hearing, or thy head be now
Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den;--[1]
O miserable Chieftain! where and when 5
Wilt thou find patience? Yet die not; do thou
Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow:
Though fallen thyself, never to rise again,
Live, and take comfort. [2] Thou hast left behind
Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies; 10
There's not a breathing of the common wind
That will forget thee; thou hast great allies;
Thy friends are exultations, agonies,
And love, and man's unconquerable mind. [C]

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1827.

Whether the rural milk-maid by her cow
Sing in thy hearing, or thou liest now
Alone in some deep dungeon's earless den, 1803.

Whether the all-cheering sun be free to shed
His beams around thee, or thou rest thy head
Pillowed in some dark dungeon's noisome den, 1815.

Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough
Within thy hearing, or Thou liest now
Buried in some deep dungeon's earless den;--1820.]

[Variant 2:

1807.

... Yet die not; be thou
Life to thyself in death; with chearful brow
Live, loving death, nor let one thought in ten
Be painful to thee ... 1803.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: But previously printed in 'The Morning Post' of February 2, 1803, under the signature W. L. D.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: Compare Massinger, 'The Bondman', act I. scene iii. l. 8:

'Her man of men, Timoleon.'

Ed.]

[Footnote B: Compare Rowe's 'Tamerlane', iii. 2:

'But to subdue the unconquerable mind.'

Also Gray's poem 'The Progress of Poesy', ii. 2, l. 10:

'Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame.'

Ed.]

Francois Dominique Toussaint (who was surnamed L'Ouverture), the child of African slaves, was born at St. Domingo in 1743. He was a Royalist in political sympathy till 1794, when the decree of the French convention, giving liberty to the slaves, brought him over to the side of the Republic. He was made a general of division by Laveux, and succeeded in taking the whole of the north of the island from the English. In 1796 he was made chief of the French army of St. Domingo, and first the British commander, and next the Spanish, surrendered everything to him. He became governor of the island, which prospered under his rule. Napoleon, however, in 1801, issued an edict re-establishing slavery in St. Domingo. Toussaint professed obedience, but showed that he meant to resist the edict. A fleet of fifty-four vessels was sent from France to enforce it. Toussaint was proclaimed an outlaw. He surrendered, and was received with military honours, but was treacherously arrested and sent to Paris in June 1802, where he died, in April 1803, after ten months' hardship in prison. He had been two months in prison when Wordsworth addressed this sonnet to him.--Ed.

* * * * *

COMPOSED IN THE VALLEY NEAR DOVER, ON THE DAY OF LANDING

Composed August 30, 1802.--Published 1807

Here, on our native soil, we breathe once more. [1]
The cock that crows, the smoke that curls, that sound
Of bells;--those boys who [2] in yon meadow-ground
In white-sleeved shirts are playing; [A] and the roar
Of the waves breaking on the chalky shore;--[3] 5
All, all are English. Oft have I looked round
With joy in Kent's green vales; but never found
Myself so satisfied in heart before.
Europe is yet in bonds; but let that pass,
Thought for another moment. Thou art free, 10
My Country! and 'tis joy enough and pride
For one hour's perfect bliss, to tread the grass
Of England once again, and hear and see,
With such a dear Companion at my side.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1827.

Dear fellow Traveller! here we are once more. 1807.]

[Variant 2:

1820.

... that ... 1807.]

[Variant 3:

1815.

In white sleev'd shirts are playing by the score,
And even this little River's gentle roar, 1807.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: At the beginning of Dorothy Wordsworth's 'Journal of a Tour on the Continent' in 1820, she writes (July 10, 1820):

"When within a mile of Dover saw crowds of people at a cricket match,
the numerous combatants dressed in 'white-sleeved shirts;' and it was
in the very same field, where, when we 'trod the grass of England once
again,' twenty years ago, we had seen an assemblage of youths, engaged
in the same sport, so very like the present that all might have been
the same. (See my brother's sonnet.)"

Ed.]

Dorothy Wordsworth writes in her Journal,

"On Sunday, the 29th of August, we left Calais, at twelve o'clock in
the morning, and landed at Dover at one on Monday the 30th. It was
very pleasant to me, when we were in the harbour at Dover, to breathe
the fresh air, and to look up and see the stars among the ropes of the
vessel. The next day was very hot, we bathed, and sat upon the Dover
Cliffs, and looked upon France with many a melancholy and tender
thought. We could see the shores almost as plain as if it were but an
English lake. We mounted the coach, and arrived in London at six, the
30th August."

Ed.

* * * * *

SEPTEMBER 1, 1802

Composed September 1, 1802.--Published 1807 [A]

Among the capricious acts of Tyranny that disgraced these times, was the chasing of all Negroes from France by decree of the Government: we had a Fellow-passenger who was one of the expelled.--W. W. 1827.

We had a female Passenger who came [1]
From Calais with us, spotless [2] in array,
A white-robed Negro, [3] like a lady gay,
Yet downcast [4] as a woman fearing blame;
Meek, destitute, as seemed, of hope or aim [5] 5
She sate, from notice turning not away,
But on all proffered intercourse did lay [6]
A weight of languid speech, or to the same
No sign of answer made by word or face:
Yet still her eyes retained their tropic fire, 10
That, burning independent of the mind,
Joined with the lustre of her rich attire
To mock the Outcast--O ye Heavens, be kind!
And feel, thou Earth, for this afflicted Race![7]

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1845.

We had a fellow-passenger that came 1803.

... who ... 1807.

Driven from the soil of France, a Female came 1827.

The edition of 1838 returns to the text of 1807, but the edition of 1840 reverts to that of 1827.]

[Variant 2:

1845.

... gaudy ... 1803.

... brilliant ... 1827.]

[Variant 3:

1845.

A negro woman, ... 1803.]

[Variant 4:

1827.

Yet silent ... 1803.]

[Variant 5:

1827.

Dejected, downcast, meek, and more than tame: 1803.

Dejected, meek, yea pitiably tame, 1807.]

[Variant 6:

1827.

But on our proffer'd kindness still did lay 1803.]

[Variant 7:

1845.

... or at the same
Was silent, motionless in eyes and face.
She was a negro woman, out of France,
Rejected, like all others of that race:
Not one of whom may now find footing there.
What is the meaning of this ordinance?
Dishonour'd Despots, tell us if ye dare. 1803.

... driv'n from France,
Rejected like all others of that race,
Not one of whom may now find footing there;
This the poor Out-cast did to us declare,
Nor murmur'd at the unfeeling Ordinance. 1807.

Meanwhile those eyes retained their tropic fire,
Which, burning independent of the mind,
Joined with the lustre of her rich attire
To mock the outcast--O ye Heavens, be kind!
And feel, thou Earth, for this afflicted Race! 1827.

Yet still those eyes retained their tropic fire, 1837.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: First printed in 'The Morning Post', February 11, 1803, under the title of 'The Banished Negroes', and signed W. L. D.--Ed.]

It was a natural arrangement which led Wordsworth to place this sonnet, in his edition of 1807, immediately after the one addressed 'To Toussaint L'Ouverture'.--Ed.

* * * * *

SEPTEMBER, 1802, NEAR DOVER [A]

Composed September, 1802.--Published 1807

Inland, within a hollow vale, I stood;
And saw, while sea was calm and air was clear,
The coast of France--the coast of France how near!
Drawn almost into frightful neighbourhood.
I shrunk; for verily the barrier flood 5
Was like a lake, or river bright and fair,
A span of waters; yet what power is there!
What mightiness for evil and for good! [B]
Even so doth God protect us if we be
Virtuous and wise. Winds blow, and waters roll, 10
Strength to the brave, and Power, and Deity;
Yet in themselves are nothing! One decree
Spake laws to _them_, and said that by the soul
Only, the Nations shall be great and free.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: From 1807 to 1843 the title was 'September, 1802'; "near Dover" appeared in the "Sonnets" of 1838, but did not become a permanent part of the title until 1845.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: Compare in S. T. 'Coleridge's Ode to the Departing Year', stanza vii.:

'And Ocean 'mid his uproar wild
Speaks safety to his island-child.'

Ed.]

In 'The Friend' (ed. 1818, vol. i. p. 107), Coleridge writes:

"The narrow seas that form our boundaries, what were they in times of
old? The convenient highway for Danish and Norman pirates. What are
they now? Still, but a 'Span of Waters.' Yet they roll at the base of
the Ararat, on which the Ark of the Hope of Europe and of Civilization
rested!"

He then quotes this sonnet from the line "Even so doth God protect us if we be."

The note appended to the sonnet, 'Composed in the Valley near Dover, on the day of Landing' (p. 341), shows that this one refers to the same occasion; and that while "Inland, within a hollow vale," Wordsworth was, at the same time, on the Dover Cliffs; the "vale" being one of the hollow clefts in the headland, which front the Dover coast-line. The sonnet may, however, have been finished afterwards in London.--Ed.

* * * * *

WRITTEN IN LONDON, SEPTEMBER, 1802

Composed September, 1802.--Published 1807

[This was written immediately after my return from France to London, when I could not but be struck, as here described, with the vanity and parade of our own country, especially in great towns and cities, as contrasted with the quiet, and I may say the desolation, that the Revolution had produced in France. This must be borne in mind, or else the reader may think that in this and the succeeding Sonnets I have exaggerated the mischief engendered and fostered among us by undisturbed wealth. It would not be easy to conceive with what a depth of feeling I entered into the struggle carried on by the Spaniards for their deliverance from the usurped power of the French. Many times have I gone from Allan Bank in Grasmere Vale, where we were then residing, to the top of Raise-gap, as it is called, so late as two o'clock in the morning, to meet the carrier bringing the newspapers from Keswick. Imperfect traces of the state of mind in which I then was may be found in my tract on the Convention of Cintra, as well as in these Sonnets.--I. F.]

O FRIEND! [A] I know not which way I must look [1]
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 5
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: 10
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. [B]

* * * * *

VARIANT ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1807.

O thou proud City! which way shall I look 1838.

The text of 1840 returns to that of 1807.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: The "Friend" was Coleridge. In the original MS. it stands "Coleridge! I know not," etc. Wordsworth changed it in the proof stage.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: Compare--in Hartley Coleridge's 'Lives of Distinguished Northerners'--what is said of this sonnet, in his life of Anne Clifford, where the passing cynicism of Wordsworth's poem is pointed out.--Ed.]

Wordsworth stayed in London from August 30th to September 22nd 1802.--Ed.

* * * * *

LONDON, 1802

Composed September, 1802.--Published 1807

Milton! thou should'st 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 5
Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! 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: 10
Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
So didst thou travel on life's common way,
In cheerful godliness; and yet [A] thy heart
The lowliest duties on herself [1] did lay.

* * * * *

VARIANT ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1820.

... itself ... 1807.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: In old English "yet" means "continuously" or "always"; and it is still used in Cumberland with this signification.--Ed.]

* * * * *

"GREAT MEN HAVE BEEN AMONG US; HANDS THAT PENNED"

Composed September, 1802.--Published 1807

Great men have been among us; hands that penned
And tongues that uttered wisdom--better none:
The later Sidney, Marvel, Harrington,
Young Vane, [A] and others who called Milton friend.
These moralists could act and comprehend: 5
They knew how genuine glory was put on;
Taught us how rightfully a nation shone
In splendour: what strength was, that would not bend
But in [1] magnanimous meekness. France, 'tis strange,
Hath brought forth no such souls as we had then. 10
Perpetual emptiness! unceasing change!
No single volume paramount, no code,
No master spirit, no determined road;
But equally a want of books and men!

* * * * *

VARIANT ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1807.

But to ... MS.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: See Clarendon's 'History of the Rebellion', book iii.--Ed.]

* * * * *

"IT IS NOT TO BE THOUGHT OF THAT THE FLOOD"

Composed September, 1802.--Published 1807 [A]

It is not to be thought of that the Flood
Of British freedom, which, to the open sea
Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity
Hath flowed, "with pomp of waters, unwithstood,"[B]
Roused though it be full often to a mood 5
Which spurns the check of salutary bands, [1]
That this most famous Stream in bogs and sands
Should perish; and to evil and to good
Be lost for ever. In our halls is hung
Armoury of the invincible Knights of old: 10
We must be [2] free or die, who speak the tongue
That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold
Which Milton held.--In every thing we are sprung
Of Earth's first blood, have titles manifold.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1827.

... unwithstood,
Road by which all might come and go that would,
And bear out freights of worth to foreign lands; 1803.]

[Variant 2:

1807.

... must live ... 1803.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: It was first printed in 'The Morning Post', April 16. 1803, and signed W. L. D.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: Compare Daniel's 'Civil War', book ii. stanza 7.--Ed.]

* * * * *

"WHEN I HAVE BORNE IN MEMORY WHAT HAS TAMED"

Composed September, 1802.--Published 1807 [A]

When I have borne in memory what has tamed
Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart
When men change swords for ledgers, and desert
The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed
I had, my Country!--am I to be blamed? 5
Now, [1] when I think of thee, and what thou art,
Verily, in the bottom of my heart,
Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed. [2]
For dearly must we prize thee; we who find
In thee a bulwark for the cause of men; [3] 10
And I by my affection was beguiled:
What wonder if a Poet now and then,
Among the many movements of his mind,
Felt for thee as a lover or a child!

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1.

1845.

But,... 1803.]

[Variant 2.

1807.

I of those fears of mine am much ashamed. 1803.]

[Variant 3.

1845.

But dearly do I prize thee for I find
In thee a bulwark of the cause of men; 1803.

But dearly must we prize thee; we who find 1807.

... for the cause of men; 1827.

Most dearly 1838.

The text of 1840 returns to that of 1827.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: But printed previously in 'The Morning Post', September 17, 1803, under the title 'England', and signed W. L. D. Also, see Coleridge's 'Poems on Political Events', 1828-9.--Ed.]

* * * * *

COMPOSED AFTER A JOURNEY ACROSS THE HAMBLETON HILLS, [A] YORKSHIRE

Composed October 4, 1802.--Published 1807

[Composed October 4th, 1802, after a journey over the Hambleton Hills, on a day memorable to me--the day of my marriage. The horizon commanded by those hills is most magnificent. The next day, while we were travelling in a post-chaise up Wensleydale, we were stopped by one of the horses proving restive, and were obliged to wait two hours in a severe storm before the post-boy could fetch from the inn another to supply its place. The spot was in front of Bolton Hall, where Mary Queen of Scots was kept prisoner, soon after her unfortunate landing at Workington. The place then belonged to the Scroops, and memorials of her are yet preserved there. To beguile the time I composed a Sonnet. The subject was our own confinement contrasted with hers; but it was not thought worthy of being preserved.--I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--Ed.

Dark and more dark the shades of evening fell;
The wished-for point was reached--but at an hour
When little could be gained from that rich dower [1]
Of prospect, whereof many thousands tell.
Yet did the glowing west with marvellous power 5
Salute us; there stood Indian citadel,
Temple of Greece, and minster with its tower
Substantially expressed--a place for bell
Or clock to toll from! Many a tempting isle,
With groves that never were imagined, lay 10
'Mid seas how steadfast! objects all for the eye
Of silent rapture; but we felt the while [2]
We should forget them; they are of the sky,
And from our earthly memory fade away.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1837.

Ere we had reach'd the wish'd-for place, night fell:
We were too late at least by one dark hour,
And nothing could we see of all that power
Of prospect, ... 1807.

Dark, and more dark, the shades of Evening fell;
The wish'd-for point was reach'd--but late the hour;
And little could we see of all that power 1815.

And little could be gained from all that dower 1827.]

[Variant 2:

1837.

The western sky did recompence us well
With Grecian Temple, Minaret, and Bower;
And, in one part, a Minster with its Tower
Substantially distinct, a place for Bell
Or Clock to toll from. Many a glorious pile
Did we behold, sights that might well repay
All disappointment! and, as such, the eye
Delighted in them; but we felt, the while, 1807.

Substantially expressed--... 1815.

Did we behold, fair sights that might repay 1815.

Yet did the glowing west in all its power 1827.

The text of 1827 is otherwise identical with that of 1837.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: Called by Wordsworth, "The Hamilton Hills" in the editions from 1807 to 1827.--Ed.]

The following extract from Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal indicates, as fully as any other passage in it, the use which her brother occasionally made of it. We have the "Grecian Temple," and the "Minster with its Tower":

"Before we had crossed the Hambleton Hill and reached the point
overlooking Yorkshire it was quite dark. We had not wanted, however,
fair prospects before us, as we drove along the flat plain of the high
hill; far, far off from us, in the western sky, we saw shapes of
castles, ruins among groves--a great, spreading wood, rocks, and
single trees--a Minster with its Tower unusually distinct, Minarets in
another quarter, and a round Grecian Temple also; the colours of the
sky of a bright grey, and the forms of a sober grey, with a dome. As
we descended the hill there was no distinct view, but of a great
space, only near us, we saw the wild (and as the people say)
bottomless Tarn in the hollow at the side of the hill. It seemed to be
made visible to us only by its own light, for all the hill about us
was dark."