Chapter IV (1)

Nor can I not believe but that hereby
Great gains are mine; for thus I live remote
From evil-speaking; rancour, never sought, 45
Comes to me not; malignant truth, or lie.
Hence have I genial seasons, hence have I
Smooth passions, smooth discourse, and joyous thought:
And thus from day to day my little boat
Rocks in its harbour, lodging peaceably. 50
Blessings be with them--and eternal praise,
Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares--
The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs
Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays!
Oh! might my name be numbered among theirs, 55
Then gladly would I end my mortal days.

The text of the poem was little altered, and was fixed in 1827. It had no title in 1807 and 1815.

The reading of 1807,

my half-kitchen my half-parlour fire,

was a reminiscence of Dove Cottage, which we regret to lose in the later editions.

In the Baptistery of Westminster Abbey, there is a statue of Wordsworth by Frederick Thrupp of great merit, placed there by the late Dean Stanley, beside busts of Keble, Maurice, and Kingsley. Underneath the statue of Wordsworth are the four lines from _Personal Talk_--

Blessings be with them--and eternal praise,
Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares--
The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs
Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays!

Dean Stanley found it difficult to select from Wordsworth's poems the lines most appropriate for inscription, and adopted these at the suggestion of his friend, Principal Shairp.--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1815.

About ... 1807.

[2] 1815.

By my half-kitchen my half-parlour fire, 1807.

[3] 1827.

There do I find a never-failing store
Of personal themes, and such as I love best;
Matter wherein right voluble I am:
Two will I mention, dearer than the rest; 1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] This is the line referred to by Wordsworth in the Fenwick note. Compare _Midsummer Night's Dream_, act I. scene i. ll. 75-78.--ED.

[B] Compare Collins, _The Passions_, l. 60, and _An Evening Walk_, l. 237 and note (vol. i. p. 22).--ED.

[C] Compare _The Prelude_, book xii. l. 151 (vol. iii. p. 349)--

I knew a maid,
A young enthusiast, who escaped these bonds;
Her eye was not the mistress of her heart. ED.

[D] Wordsworth said on one occasion, as Professor Dowden has reminded us, that he thought _Othello_, the close of the _Phaedo_, and Walton's _Life of George Herbert_, the three "most pathetic" writings in the world.--ED.

ADMONITION

Intended more particularly for the perusal of those who may have happened
to be enamoured of some beautiful place of Retreat, in the Country of
the Lakes.

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

Well may'st thou halt--and gaze with brightening eye![1]
The lovely Cottage in the guardian nook
Hath stirred thee deeply; with its own dear brook,
Its own small pasture, almost its own sky![A]
But covet not the Abode;--forbear to sigh,[2] 5
As many do, repining while they look;
Intruders--who would tear[3] from Nature's book
This precious leaf, with harsh impiety.[4]
Think what the Home must[5] be if it were thine,
Even thine, though few thy wants!--Roof, window, door, 10
The very flowers are sacred to the Poor,
The roses to the porch which they entwine:
Yea, all, that now enchants thee, from the day
On which it should be touched, would melt away.[6]

The cottage at Town-end, Grasmere--where this sonnet was composed--may have suggested it. Some of the details, however, are scarcely applicable to Dove Cottage; the "brook" (referred to elsewhere) is outside the orchard ground, and there is scarcely anything in the garden to warrant the phrase, "its own small pasture." It is unnecessary to localise the allusions.--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1837.

Yes, there is holy pleasure in thine eye! 1807.

[2] 1827.

... oh! do not sigh, 1807.

[3] 1827.

Sighing a wish to tear ... 1807.

[4] 1827.

This blissful leaf, with worst impiety. 1807.

... with harsh impiety. 1815.

[5] 1827.

... would ... 1807.

[6] 1838.

... would melt, and melt away! 1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Compare the lines in _Peter Bell_, vol. ii. p. 13--

Where deep and low the hamlets lie
Beneath their little patch of sky
And little lot of stars. ED.

"'BELOVED VALE!' I SAID, 'WHEN I SHALL CON'"

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

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

"Beloved Vale!" I said, "when I shall con
Those many records of my childish years,
Remembrance of myself and of my peers
Will press me down: to think of what is gone
Will be an awful thought, if life have one." 5
But, when into the Vale I came, no fears
Distressed me; from mine eyes escaped no tears;[1]
Deep thought, or dread remembrance, had I none.[2]
By doubts and thousand petty fancies crost[3]
I stood, of simple shame the blushing Thrall;[A] 10
So narrow seemed the brooks, the fields so small![4]
A Juggler's balls old Time about him tossed;
I looked, I stared, I smiled, I laughed; and all
The weight of sadness was in wonder lost.

Doubtless the "Vale" referred to is that of Hawkshead; the "brooks" may refer to the one that feeds Esthwaite lake, or to Sawrey beck, or (more likely) to the streamlet, "the famous brook within our garden boxed," described in _The Prelude_, books i. and ii. (vol. iii.) See also _The Fountain_, vol. ii. p. 92.--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1827.

Distress'd me; I look'd round, I shed no tears; 1807.

[2] 1837.

... or awful vision, I had none. 1807.

... had I none. 1827.

[3] 1827.

By thousand petty fancies I was cross'd, 1807.

[4] 1827.

To see the Trees, which I had thought so tall,
Mere dwarfs; the Brooks so narrow, Fields so small.
1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Compare _Hart-Leap Well_, l. 117 (vol. ii. p. 134).--ED.

"HOW SWEET IT IS, WHEN MOTHER FANCY ROCKS"

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

Placed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

How sweet it is, when mother Fancy rocks
The wayward brain, to saunter through a wood!
An old place, full of many a lovely brood,
Tall trees, green arbours, and ground-flowers in flocks;
And wild rose tip-toe upon hawthorn stocks, 5
Like a bold Girl, who plays her agile pranks[1]
At Wakes and Fairs with wandering Mountebanks,--
When she stands cresting the Clown's head, and mocks
The crowd beneath her. Verily I think,
Such place to me is sometimes like a dream 10
Or map of the whole world: thoughts, link by link,
Enter through ears and eyesight, with such gleam
Of all things, that at last in fear I shrink,
And leap at once from the delicious stream.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1827.

Like to a bonny Lass, who plays her pranks 1807.

"THOSE WORDS WERE UTTERED AS IN PENSIVE MOOD"

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

----"they are of the sky,
And from our earthly memory fade away."[A]

Placed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

Those[1] words were uttered as in pensive mood[2]
We turned, departing from[3] that solemn sight:
A contrast and reproach to[4] gross delight,
And life's unspiritual pleasures daily wooed!
But now upon this thought I cannot brood; 5
It is unstable as a dream of night;[5]
Nor will I praise a cloud, however bright,
Disparaging Man's gifts, and proper food.
Grove, isle, with every shape of sky-built dome,[6]
Though clad in colours beautiful and pure, 10
Find in the heart of man no natural home:
The immortal Mind craves objects that endure:
These cleave to it; from these it cannot roam,
Nor they from it: their fellowship is secure.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1838.

These ... 1807.

[2] 1827.

... utter'd in a pensive mood. 1807.

[3] 1827.

Even while mine eyes were on ... 1807.

Mine eyes yet lingering on ... 1815.

[4] 1807.

A silent counter part of ... MS.

[5] 1827.

It is unstable, and deserts me quite; 1807.

[6] 1827.

The Grove, the sky-built Temple, and the Dome, 1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] See the sonnet _Composed after a Journey across the Hambleton Hills, Yorkshire_, vol. ii. p. 349.--ED.

"WITH HOW SAD STEPS, O MOON, THOU CLIMB'ST THE SKY"

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

In the edition of 1815, this was placed among the "Poems of the Fancy." In 1820 it became one of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the sky,
"How silently, and with how wan a face!"[A]
Where art thou? Thou so often seen on high[1]
Running among the clouds a Wood-nymph's race!
Unhappy Nuns, whose common breath's a sigh 5
Which they would stifle, move at such a pace!
The northern Wind, to call thee to the chase,
Must blow to-night his bugle horn. Had I
The power of Merlin, Goddess! this should be:
And all the stars, fast as the clouds were riven,[2] 10
Should sally forth, to keep thee company,[3]
Hurrying and sparkling through the clear blue heaven;[4]
But, Cynthia! should to thee the palm be given,
Queen both for beauty and for majesty.

The sonnet of Sir Philip Sidney's, from which the two first lines are taken, is No. XXXI. in _Astrophel and Stella_. In the edition of 1807 these lines were printed, not as a sonnet, but as No. III. in the series of "Poems composed during a Tour, chiefly on foot;" and in 1807 and 1815 the first two lines were placed within quotation marks.--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1837.

... Thou whom I have seen on high 1807.

[2] 1837.

And all the Stars, now shrouded up in heaven, 1807.

And the keen Stars, fast as the clouds were riven,
1820.

[3] 1807.

Should sally forth, an emulous Company, 1820.

The text of 1837 returns to that of 1807.

[4] 1840.

What strife would then be yours, fair Creatures, driv'n
Now up, now down, and sparkling in your glee! 1807.

Sparkling, and hurrying through the clear blue heaven;
1820.

All hurrying with thee through the clear blue heaven;
1832.

In that keen sport along the plain, of heaven; 1837.

... in emulous company
Sparkling, and hurrying through the clear blue heaven;
1838 and C.

Hurrying and sparkling through the clear blue Heaven. C.

With emulous brightness through the clear blue Heaven.
C.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] From a sonnet of Sir Philip Sydney.--W. W. 1807.

"THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US; LATE AND SOON"

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

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

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This[1] Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; 5
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for every thing, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 10
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,[A]
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising[2] from the sea;[B]
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.[C]

The "pleasant lea" referred to in this sonnet is unknown. It may have been on the Cumbrian coast, or in the Isle of Man.

I am indebted to the Rev. Canon Ainger for suggesting an (unconscious) reminiscence of Spenser in the last line of the sonnet. Compare Dr. Arnold's commentary (_Miscellaneous Works of Thomas Arnold_, p. 311), and that of Sir Henry Taylor in his _Notes from Books_.--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1807.

The ... MS.

[2] 1827.

... coming ... 1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] See Spenser's _Colin Clout's come Home againe_, l. 283--

"A goodly pleasant lea." ED.

[B] Compare _Paradise Lost_, book iii. l. 603.

[C] See _Colin Clout's come Home againe_, ll. 244-5--

Of them the shepheard which hath charge in chief,
Is Triton, blowing loud his wreathed horne. ED.

"WITH SHIPS THE SEA WAS SPRINKLED FAR AND NIGH"

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

Placed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

With Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,[A]
Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed;
Some lying fast at anchor in the road,
Some veering up and down, one knew not why.
A goodly Vessel did I then espy 5
Come like a giant from a haven broad;
And lustily along the bay she strode,
Her tackling rich, and of apparel high.[B]
This Ship was nought to me, nor I to her,
Yet I pursued her with a Lover's look; 10
This Ship to all the rest did I prefer:
When will she turn, and whither? She will brook
No tarrying; where She comes the winds must stir:
On went She, and due north her journey took.[C]

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Compare _The Excursion_, book iv. l. 1197--

... sea with ships
Sprinkled ... ED.

[B] In the editions of 1815 to 1832 (but not in 1807) this line was printed within inverted commas. The quotation marks were dropped, however, in subsequent editions (as in the quotation from Spenser, in the poem _Beggars_). In a note at the end of the volumes of 1807, Wordsworth says, "From a passage in Skelton, which I cannot here insert, not having the Book at hand."

The passage is as follows--

Her takelynge ryche, and of hye apparayle.

Skelton's _Bowge of Courte_, stanza vi.--ED.

[C] See Professor H. Reed's note to the American edition of _Memoirs of Wordsworth_, vol. i. p. 335; and Wordsworth's comment on Mrs. Fermor's criticism of this sonnet in his letter to Lady Beaumont, May 21, 1807.--ED.

"WHERE LIES THE LAND TO WHICH YON SHIP MUST GO?"

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go?
Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day,
Festively she puts forth in trim array;[1]
Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow?
What boots the inquiry?--Neither friend nor foe 5
She cares for; let her travel where she may,
She finds familiar names, a beaten way
Ever before her, and a wind to blow.
Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark?
And, almost as it was when ships were rare, 10
(From time to time, like Pilgrims, here and there
Crossing the waters) doubt, and something dark,
Of the old Sea some reverential fear,
Is with me at thy farewell, joyous Bark!

VARIANTS:

[1] 1837.

Festively she puts forth in trim array;
As vigorous as a Lark at break of day: 1807.

TO SLEEP

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

Placed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

O gentle sleep! do they belong to thee,
These twinklings of oblivion? Thou dost love
To sit in meekness, like the brooding Dove,
A captive never wishing to be free.
This tiresome night, O Sleep! thou art to me 5
A Fly, that up and down himself doth shove
Upon a fretful rivulet, now above
Now on the water vexed with mockery.
I have no pain that calls for patience, no;[A]
Hence am I[1] cross and peevish as a child: 10
Am[2] pleased by fits to have thee for my foe,
Yet ever willing to be reconciled:
O gentle Creature! do not use me so,
But once and deeply let me be beguiled.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1807.

... I am ... 1815.

The text of 1827 returns to that of 1807.

[2] 1807.

And ... 1815.

The text of 1827 returns to that of 1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Compare--"Et c'est encore ce qui me fache, de n'etre pas meme en droit de ... facher."--Rousseau, _La Nouvelle Heloise_.

"Vixque tenet lacrymas; quia nil lacrymabile cernit."

Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, lib. ii. l. 796.--ED.

TO SLEEP

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

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

Fond words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep!
And thou hast had thy store of tenderest names;
The very sweetest, Fancy culls or frames,[1]
When thankfulness of heart is strong and deep!
Dear Bosom-child we call thee, that dost steep 5
In rich reward all suffering; Balm that tames
All anguish; Saint that evil thoughts and aims
Takest away, and into souls dost creep,
Like to a breeze from heaven. Shall I alone,
I surely not a man ungently made, 10
Call thee worst Tyrant by which Flesh is crost?
Perverse, self-willed to own and to disown,
Mere slave of them who never for thee prayed,
Still last to come where thou art wanted most!

VARIANTS:

[1] 1837.

The very sweetest words that fancy frames 1807.

TO SLEEP

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by,
One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;
I have thought of all by turns, and yet do lie[1] 5
Sleepless[A]! and soon the small birds' melodies
Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees;
And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay,
And could not win thee, Sleep! by any stealth: 10
So do not let me wear to-night away:
Without Thee what is all the morning's wealth?
Come, blessed barrier between[2] day and day,
Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!

Compare Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, book xi. l. 623; _Macbeth_, act II. scene ii. l. 39; _King Henry IV._, Part II., act III. scene i. l. 5; _Midsummer Night's Dream_, act III. scene ii. l. 435.--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1845.

I've thought of all by turns; and still I lie 1807.

By turns have all been thought of; yet I lie 1827.

I thought of all by turns, and yet I lie 1837.

I have thought ... 1838.

[2] 1832.

... betwixt ... 1807.

... between night and day, MS.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Compare _The Faerie Queene_, book I. canto i. stanza 41--

And more to lulle him in his slumber soft,
A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe,
And ever-drizling raine upon the loft,
Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne
Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne. ED.

TO THE MEMORY OF RAISLEY CALVERT

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

[This young man, Raisley Calvert, to whom I was so much indebted, died at Penrith, 1795.--I. F.]

Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

Calvert! it must not be unheard by them
Who may respect my name, that I to thee
Owed many years of early liberty.
This care was thine when sickness did condemn
Thy youth to hopeless wasting, root and stem-- 5
That I, if frugal and severe, might stray
Where'er I liked; and finally array
My temples with the Muse's diadem.
Hence, if in freedom I have loved the truth;
If there be aught of pure, or good, or great, 10
In my past verse; or shall be, in the lays
Of higher mood, which now I meditate;--
It gladdens me, O worthy, short-lived, Youth!
To think how much of this will be thy praise.

Raisley Calvert was the son of R. Calvert, steward to the Duke of Norfolk. Writing to Sir George Beaumont, on the 20th February 1805, Wordsworth said, "I should have been forced into one of the professions" (the church or law) "by necessity, had not a friend left me L900. This bequest was from a young man with whom, though I call him friend, I had but little connection; and the act was done entirely from a confidence on his part that I had powers and attainments which might be of use to mankind.... Upon the interest of the L900, and L100 legacy to my sister, and L100 more which the 'Lyrical Ballads' have brought me, my sister and I contrived to live seven years, nearly eight." To his friend Matthews he wrote, November 7th, 1794, "My friend" (Calvert) "has every symptom of a confirmed consumption, and I cannot think of quitting him in his present debilitated state." And in January 1795 he wrote to Matthews from Penrith (where Calvert was staying), "I have been here for some time. I am still much engaged with my sick friend; and am sorry to add that he worsens daily ... he is barely alive." In a letter to Dr. Joshua Stanger of Keswick, written in the year 1842, Wordsworth referred thus to Raisley Calvert. Dr. Calvert--a nephew of Raisley, and son of the W. Calvert whom the poet accompanied to the Isle of Wight and Salisbury in 1793--had just died. "His removal (Dr. Calvert's) has naturally thrown my mind back as far as Dr. Calvert's grandfather, his father, and sister (the former of whom was, as you know, among my intimate friends), and his uncle Raisley, whom I have so much cause to remember with gratitude for his testamentary remembrance of me, when the greatest part of my patrimony was kept back from us by injustice. It may be satisfactory to your wife for me to declare that my friend's bequest enabled me to devote myself to literary pursuits, independent of any necessity to look at pecuniary emolument, so that my talents, such as they might be, were free to take their natural course. Your brothers Raisley and William were both so well known to me, and I have so many reasons to respect them, that I cannot forbear saying, that my sympathy with this last bereavement is deepened by the remembrance that they both have been taken from you...." On October 1, 1794, Wordsworth wrote from Keswick to Ensign William Calvert about his brother Raisley. (The year is not given in the letter, but it must have been 1794.) He tells him that Raisley was determined to set out for Lisbon; but that he (Wordsworth) could not brook the idea of his going alone; and that he wished to accompany his friend and stay with him, till his health was re-established. He adds, "Reflecting that his return is uncertain, your brother requests me to inform you that he has drawn out his will, which he means to get executed in London. The purport of his will is to leave you all his property, real and personal, chargeable with a legacy of L600 to me, in case that, on inquiry into the state of our affairs in London, he should think it advisable to do so. It is at my request that this information is communicated to you." Calvert did not live to go south; and he changed the sum left to Wordsworth from L600 to L900. The relationship of the two men suggests the somewhat parallel one between Spinoza and Simon de Vries.--ED.

"METHOUGHT I SAW THE FOOTSTEPS OF A THRONE"

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

[The latter part of this sonnet was a great favourite with my sister S. H. When I saw her lying in death, I could not resist the impulse to compose the Sonnet that follows it.--I. F.]

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

Methought I saw the footsteps of a throne
Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud--
Nor view of who might sit[1] thereon allowed;
But all the steps and ground about were strown
With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone 5
Ever put on; a miserable crowd,
Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud,
"Thou art our king, O Death! to thee we groan."
Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave[2]
Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one 10
Sleeping alone within a mossy cave,
With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have
Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone;
A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!

"The Sonnet that follows," referred to in the Fenwick note, is one belonging to the year 1836, beginning--

Even so for me a Vision sanctified.

See the note to that sonnet.--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1815.

... of him who sate ... 1807.

[2] 1845.

I seem'd to mount those steps; the vapours gave 1807.

Those steps I mounted, as the vapours gave 1837.

... while the vapours gave 1838.

Those steps I clomb; the opening vapours gave
C. and 1840.

LINES

Composed at Grasmere, during a walk one Evening, after a stormy day,
the Author having just read in a Newspaper that the dissolution of
Mr. Fox was hourly expected.

Composed September 1806.--Published 1807

This poem was ranked among the "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces."--ED.

Loud is the Vale! the Voice is up
With which she speaks when storms are gone,
A mighty unison of streams!
Of all her Voices, One!

Loud is the Vale;--this inland Depth 5
In peace is roaring like the Sea;
Yon star upon the mountain-top
Is listening quietly.

Sad was I, even to pain deprest,
Importunate and heavy load![A] 10
The Comforter hath found me here,
Upon this lonely road;

And many thousands now are sad--
Wait the fulfilment of their fear;
For he must die who is their stay, 15
Their glory disappear.

A Power is passing from the earth
To breathless Nature's dark abyss;
But when the great and good depart[1]
What is it more than this-- 20

That Man, who is from God sent forth,
Doth yet again to God return?--
Such ebb and flow must ever be,
Then wherefore should we mourn?

Charles James Fox died September 13, 1806. He was Minister for Foreign Affairs at the time, having assumed office on the 5th February, shortly after the death of William Pitt. Wordsworth's sadness on this occasion, his recognition of Fox as great and good, and as "a Power" that was "passing from the earth," may have been due partly to personal and political sympathy, but also probably to Fox's appreciation of the better side of the French Revolution, and to his welcoming the pacific proposals of Talleyrand, perhaps also to his efforts for the abolition of slavery.

The "lonely road" referred to in these _Lines_, was, in all likelihood, the path from Town-end towards the Swan Inn past the Hollins, Grasmere. A "mighty unison of streams" may be heard there any autumn evening after a stormy day, and especially after long continued rain, the sound of waters from Easdale, from Greenhead Ghyll, and the slopes of Silver How, blending with that of the Rothay in the valley below. Compare Dorothy Wordsworth's _Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland_, in 1803, p. 229 (edition 1874).--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1837.

But when the Mighty pass away 1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Importuna e grave salma. (Michael Angelo.)--W. W. 1807.

NOVEMBER, 1806

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

Classed among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty," re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--ED.

Another year!--another deadly blow!
Another mighty Empire overthrown!
And We are left, or shall be left, alone;
The last that dare[1] to struggle with the Foe.
'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know 5
That in ourselves our safety must be sought;
That by our own right hands it must be wrought;
That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.
O dastard whom such foretaste[2] doth not cheer!
We shall exult, if they who rule the land 10
Be men who hold its many blessings dear,
Wise, upright, valiant; not a servile[3] band,
Who are to judge of danger which they fear,
And honour which they do not understand.[A]

Napoleon won the battle of Jena on the 14th October 1806, entered Potsdam on the 25th, and Berlin on the 28th; Prince Hohenlohe laid down his arms on the 6th November; Bluecher surrendered at Luebeck on the 7th; Magdeburg was taken on the 8th; on the 14th the French occupied Hanover; and on the 21st Napoleon issued his Berlin decree for the blockade of England--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1827.

... dares ... 1807.

[2] 1807.

... knowledge ... MS.

[3] 1820.

... venal ... 1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Who are to judge of danger which they fear
And honour which they do not understand.

These two lines from Lord Brooke's _Life of Sir Philip Sydney_--W. W. 1807.

"Danger which they fear, and honour which they understand not." Words in Lord Brooke's _Life of Sir P. Sidney_.--W. W. 1837.

ADDRESS TO A CHILD

DURING A BOISTEROUS WINTER EVENING

BY MY SISTER

Composed 1806.--Published 1815

[Written at Town-end, Grasmere.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--ED.

What way does the Wind come? What way does he go?
He rides over the water, and over the snow,
Through wood, and through vale; and, o'er rocky height
Which the goat cannot climb, takes his sounding flight;
He tosses about in every bare tree, 5
As, if you look up, you plainly may see;
But how he will come, and whither he goes,
There's never a scholar in England knows.
He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook,
And ring[1] a sharp 'larum;--but, if you should look, 10
There's nothing to see but a cushion of snow
Round as a pillow, and whiter than milk,
And softer than if it were covered with silk.
Sometimes he'll hide in the cave of a rock,
Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard cock; 15
--Yet seek him,--and what shall you find in the place?
Nothing but silence and empty space;
Save, in a corner, a heap of dry leaves,
That he's left, for a bed, to[2] beggars or thieves!
As soon as 'tis daylight to-morrow, with me 20
You shall go to the orchard, and then you will see
That he has been there, and made a great rout,
And cracked the branches, and strewn them about;
Heaven grant that he spare but that one upright twig
That looked up at the sky so proud and big 25
All last summer, as well you know,
Studded with apples, a beautiful show!
Hark! over the roof he makes a pause,
And growls as if he would fix his claws
Right in the slates, and with a huge rattle 30
Drive them down, like men in a battle:
--But let him range round; he does us no harm,
We build up the fire, we're snug and warm;
Untouched by his breath see the candle shines bright,
And burns with a clear and steady light; 35
Books have we to read,--but that half-stifled knell,
Alas! tis the sound[3] of the eight o'clock bell.
--Come now we'll to bed! and when we are there
He may work his own will, and what shall we care?
He may knock at the door,--we'll not let him in; 40
May drive at the windows,--we'll laugh at his din;
Let him seek his own home wherever it be;
Here's a _cozie_ warm house for Edward and me.

Wordsworth dated this poem 1806, and said to Miss Fenwick that it was written at Grasmere. If it was written "during a boisterous winter evening" in 1806, it could not have been written at Grasmere; because the Wordsworths spent most of that winter at Coleorton. I am inclined to believe that the date which the poet gave is wrong, and that the _Address_ really belongs to the year 1805; but, as it is just possible that--although referring to winter--it may have been written at Town-end in the summer of 1806, it is placed among the poems belonging to the latter year.

This _Address_ was translated into French by Mme. Amable Tastu, and published in a popular school-book series of extracts, but Wordsworth's name is not given along with the translation.

From 1815 to 1843 the authorship was veiled under the title, "by a female Friend of the Author." In 1845, it was disclosed, "by my Sister."

In 1815 Charles Lamb wrote to Wordsworth, "We were glad to see the poems 'by a female friend.' The one of the Wind is masterly, but not new to us. Being only three, perhaps you might have clapt a D. at the corner, and let it have past as a printer's mark to the uninitiated, as a delightful hint to the better instructed. As it is, expect a formal criticism on the poems of your female friend, and she must expect it." (_The Letters of Charles Lamb_, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p. 285.)--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1845.

... rings ... 1815.

[2] 1827.

... for ... 1815.

[3] 1827.

... --hush! that half-stifled knell,
Methinks 'tis the sound ... 1815.

"BROOK! WHOSE SOCIETY THE POET SEEKS"

Composed 1806?--Published 1815

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

Brook! whose society the Poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew;
And whom the curious Painter doth pursue
Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks,
And tracks thee dancing down thy water-breaks; 5
If wish were mine some type of thee to view,[1]
Thee, and not thee thyself, I would not do
Like Grecian Artists, give thee human cheeks,
Channels for tears; no Naiad should'st thou be,--
Have neither limbs, feet, feathers, joints nor hairs: 10
It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee
With purer robes than those of flesh and blood,
And hath bestowed on thee a safer good;[2]
Unwearied joy, and life without its cares.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1827.

If I some type of thee did wish to view, 1815.

[2] 1845.

... a better good; 1815.

"THERE IS A LITTLE UNPRETENDING RILL"

Composed 1806?--Published 1820

[This Rill trickles down the hill-side into Windermere, near Low-wood. My sister and I, on our first visit together to this part of the country, walked from Kendal, and we rested to refresh ourselves by the side of the lake where the streamlet falls into it. This sonnet was written some years after in recollection of that happy ramble, that most happy day and hour.--I. F.]

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

There is a little unpretending Rill
Of limpid water, humbler far than aught[1]
That ever among Men or Naiads sought
Notice or name!--It quivers down the hill,
Furrowing its shallow way with dubious will; 5
Yet to my mind this scanty Stream is brought[2]
Oftener than Ganges or the Nile; a thought
Of private recollection sweet and still![3]
Months perish with their moons; year treads on year;
But, faithful Emma! thou with me canst say 10
That, while ten thousand pleasures disappear,
And flies their memory fast almost as they,[4]
The immortal Spirit of one happy day
Lingers beside that Rill,[5] in vision clear.[6]

One of the MS. readings of the ninth line of this sonnet gives the date of the incident as "now seven years gone"; but I leave the date of composition undetermined. If we could know accurately the date of the "first visit" to the district with his sister (referred to in the Fenwick note), and if we could implicitly trust this MS. reading, it might be possible to fix it; but we can do neither. Wordsworth visited the Lake District with his sister as early as 1794, and in December 1799 he took up his abode with her at Dove Cottage. I have no doubt that the sonnet belongs to the year 1806, or was composed at an earlier date. As to the locality of the rill, the late Rev. R. Perceval Graves, of Dublin, wrote to me:--

"It was in 1843, when quitting the parsonage at Bowness, I went to
reside at Dovenest, that, calling one day at Rydal Mount, I was
told by both Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, as a fact in which I should
take a special interest, that the 'little unpretending rill'
associated by the poet with 'the immortal spirit of one happy
day,' was the rill which, rising near High Skelgill at the back of
Wansfell, descends steeply down the hill-side, passes behind the
house at Dovenest, and crossing beneath the road, enters the lake
near the gate of the drive which leads up to Dovenest.

"The authority on which I give this information is decisive of the
question. I have often traced upwards the course of the rill; and
the secluded hollow, which by its source is beautified with fresh
herbage and wild straggling bushes, was a favourite haunt of
mine."--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1820.

There is a tiny water, neither rill,
Motionless well, nor running brook, nor aught MS.

There is a noiseless water, neither rill,
Nor spring enclosed in sculptured stone, nor aught MS.

There is a trickling water, neither rill,
Fountain inclosed, or rivulet, nor aught MS. 1806.

[2] 1820.

... It trickles down the hill,
So feebly, just for love of power and will,
Yet to my mind the nameless thing is brought MS.

... It totters down the hill,
So feebly, quite forlorn of power and will;
Yet nameless Thing it to my mind is brought MS.

[3] 1827.

Oftener than mightiest Floods, whose path is wrought
Through wastes of sand, and forests dark and chill.
1820.

[4] 1827.

Do thou, even thou, O faithful Anna! say
Why this small Streamlet is to me so dear;
Thou know'st, that while enjoyments disappear
And sweet remembrances like flowers decay, 1820.

[5] 1827.

Lingers upon its marge, ... 1820.

[6] 1820.

For on that day, now seven years gone, when first
Two glad foot-travellers, through sun and shower
My Love and I came hither, while thanks burst
Out of our hearts ...
We from that blessed water slaked our thirst. MS.

... seven years back, ...

... hearts to God for that good hour,
Eating a traveller's meal in shady bower,
We ... MS.

1807

In few instances is it more evident that the dates which Wordsworth affixed to his poems, in the editions of 1815, 1820, 1836, and 1845,--and those assigned in the Fenwick notes--cannot be absolutely relied upon, than in the case of the poems referring to Coleorton. Trusting to these dates, in the absence of contrary evidence, one would naturally assign the majority of the Coleorton poems to the year 1808. But it is clear that, while the sonnet _To Lady Beaumont_ may have been written in 1806, the "Inscription" _For a Seat in the Groves of Coleorton_, beginning--

Beneath yon eastern ridge, the craggy bound,

was written, not in 1808 (as stated by Wordsworth himself), but in 1811; and that the other "Inscription" designed for a Niche in the Winter-garden at Coleorton, belongs (I think) to the same year; a year in which he also wrote the sonnet on Sir George Beaumont's picture of Bredon Hill and Cloud Hill, beginning--

Praised be the Art whose subtle power could stay.

When the dates are so difficult to determine, there is a natural fitness in bringing all the poems referring to Coleorton together, so far as this can be done without seriously interfering with chronological order. The two "Inscriptions" intended for the Coleorton grounds, which were written at Grasmere in 1811, are therefore printed along with the poems of 1807; the precise date of each being given--so far as it can be ascertained--underneath its title.

Several political sonnets, and others, were written in 1807; also the _Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle_, and the first and larger part of _The White Doe of Rylstone_, with a few minor fragments. But, for reasons stated in the notes to _The White Doe of Rylstone_ (see p. 191), I have assigned that poem to the year 1808. The _Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle_ forms as natural a preface to _The White Doe_, as _The Force of Prayer, a Tradition of Bolton Abbey_, is its natural appendix. The latter was written, however, before _The White Doe of Rylstone_ was finished.

It would be easier to fix the date of some of the poems written between the years 1806 and 1808, if we knew the exact month in which the two volumes of 1807 were published; but this, I fear, it is impossible to discover now.

On November 10th, 1806, Wordsworth wrote to Sir George Beaumont from Coleorton, "In a day or two I mean to send a sheet or two of my intended volume to the press" (evidently referring to the "Poems" of 1807). On the following day--11th November 1806--Dorothy Wordsworth wrote to Lady Beaumont, "William has written two other poems, which you will see when they are printed. He composes frequently in the grove.... We have not yet received a sheet from the printer." On the 15th November 1806 she again wrote to Lady Beaumont (from Coleorton), "My brother works very hard at his poems, preparing them for the press. Miss Hutchinson is the transcriber." In a subsequent letter from Coleorton, undated, but bearing the post-mark February 18, 1807, she is speaking of her brother's poetical labour, and says, "He must go on, when he begins: and any interruptions (such as attending to the progress of the workmen and planning the garden) are of the greatest use to him; for, after a certain time, the progress is by no means proportioned to the labour in composition; and if he is called from it by other thoughts, he returns to it with ten times the pleasure, and the work goes on proportionately the more rapidly." From this we may infer that the years 1806-7 were productive ones, but it is disappointing that the dates of the composition of the poems are so difficult to determine.--ED.

TO LADY BEAUMONT

Composed 1807.--Published 1807

[The winter garden of Coleorton, fashioned out of an old quarry, under the superintendence and direction of Mrs. Wordsworth and my sister Dorothy, during the winter and spring we resided there.--I. F.]

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

Lady! the songs of Spring were in the grove
While I was shaping beds for[1] winter flowers;
While I was planting green unfading bowers,
And shrubs--to hang upon the warm alcove,
And sheltering wall; and still, as Fancy wove 5
The dream, to time and nature's blended powers
I gave this paradise for winter hours,
A labyrinth, Lady! which your feet shall rove.
Yes! when the sun of life more feebly shines,
Becoming thoughts, I trust, of solemn gloom 10
Or of high gladness you shall hither bring;
And these perennial bowers and murmuring pines
Be gracious as the music and the bloom
And all the mighty ravishment of spring.

The title, _To Lady Beaumont_, was first given in 1845. In 1807 it was _To the ----_; in 1815, _To the Lady ----_; and from 1820 to 1843, _To the Lady Beaumont_.

This winter garden, fashioned by the Wordsworths out of the old quarry at Coleorton, during Sir George and Lady Beaumont's absence in 1807, exists very much as it was at the beginning of the century. The "perennial bowers and murmuring pines" may still be seen, little altered since 1807. The late Sir George Beaumont (whose grandfather was first-cousin to the artist Sir George, Wordsworth's friend), with strong reverence for the past, and for the traditions of literary men which have made the district famous since the days of his ancestor Beaumont the dramatist, and especially for the memorials of Wordsworth's ten months' residence at Coleorton,--took a pleasure in preserving these memorials, very much as they were when he entered in possession of the estates of his ancestors. Such a reverence for the past is not only consistent with the "improvement" of an estate, and its belongings; it is a part of it. Wordsworth, and his wife and sister, were adepts in the laying out of grounds. (See the reference to the poet's joint labour with Wilkinson at Yanwath, p. 2.) It was the Wordsworths also, I believe, who designed the grounds of Fox How--Dr. Arnold's residence, near Ambleside. Similar memorials of the poet survive at Hallsteads, Ullswater. The following is an extract from the letter of Dorothy Wordsworth to Lady Beaumont above referred to, and having the post-mark of February 18, 1807. "For more than a week we have had the most delightful weather. If William had but waited a few days, it would have been no anticipation when he said to you, 'the songs of Spring were in the grove;' for all this week the birds have chanted from morn till evening, larks, blackbirds, thrushes, and far more than I can name, and the busy rooks have joined their happy voices."

Wordsworth, writing to Sir George Beaumont, November 16, 1811, says, "I remember, Mr. Bowles, the poet, objected to the word 'ravishment' at the end of the sonnet to the winter-garden; yet it has the authority of all the first-rate poets, for instance, Milton:

'In whose sight all things joy, _with ravishment_,
Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze'...."
ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1837.

... framing beds of ... 1807.

... for ... 1815.

A PROPHECY. FEBRUARY, 1807

Composed 1807.--Published 1807

Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty," re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--ED.

High deeds, O Germans, are to come from you!
Thus in your books the record shall be found,
"A watchword was pronounced, a potent sound--
ARMINIUS![A]--all the people quaked like dew
Stirred by the breeze; they rose, a Nation, true, 5
True to herself[1]--the mighty Germany,
She of the Danube and the Northern Sea,
She rose, and off at once the yoke she threw.
All power was given her in the dreadful trance;
Those new-born Kings she withered like a flame."[B] 10
--Woe to them all! but heaviest woe and shame
To that Bavarian who could[2] first advance
His banner in accursed league with France,[C]
First open traitor to the German name![3]

VARIANTS:

[1] 1820.

... itself ... 1807.

[2] 1837.

... did ... 1807.

[3] 1837.

... to her sacred name! 1807.

... to a ... 1820.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Arminius, or Hermann, the liberator of Germany from the Roman power, A.D. 9-17. Tacitus says of him, "He was without doubt the deliverer of Germany; and, unlike other kings and generals, he attacked the Roman people, not at the commencement, but in the fullness of their power: in battles he was not always successful, but he was invincible in war. He still lives in the songs of the barbarians."--ED.

[B] The "new-born Kings" were the lesser German potentates, united in the Confederation of the Rhine. By a treaty signed at Paris (July 12th, 1806), by Talleyrand, and the ministers of twelve sovereign houses of the Empire, these princes declared themselves perpetually severed from Germany, and united together as the Confederate States of the Rhine, of which the Emperor of the French was declared Protector.--ED.

[C] On December 11, 1806, Napoleon concluded a treaty with Frederick Augustus, the Elector of Saxony--who had been secretly on the side of France for some time--to whom he gave additional territories, and the title of King, admitting him into "the Confederation of the Rhine." He had fallen, as one of the Prussian statesmen put it, into "that lowest of degradations, to steal at another man's bidding."--ED.

THOUGHT OF A BRITON ON THE SUBJUGATION OF SWITZERLAND

Composed 1807.--Published 1807

[This was composed while pacing to and fro between the Hall of Coleorton, then rebuilding, and the principal Farmhouse of the Estate, in which we lived for nine or ten months. I will here mention that the _Song on the Restoration of Lord Clifford_, as well as that on the _Feast of Brougham Castle_, were produced on the same ground.--I. F.]

This sonnet was classed among those "dedicated to Liberty," re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--ED.

Two Voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains; each a mighty Voice:
In both from age to age thou didst rejoice,
They were thy chosen music, Liberty!
There came a Tyrant, and with holy glee 5
Thou fought'st against him; but hast vainly striven:
Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven,
Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee.
Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft:
Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left; 10
For, high-souled Maid, what sorrow would it be
That Mountain floods should thunder as before,
And Ocean bellow from his rocky shore,
And neither awful Voice be heard by thee!

In 1807 the whole of the Continent of Europe was prostrate under the power of Napoleon. It is impossible to say to what special incident, if to any in particular, Wordsworth refers in the phrase, "with holy glee thou fought'st against him;" but, as the sonnet was composed at Coleorton in 1807--after the battles of Austerlitz and Jena, and Napoleon's practical mastery of Europe--our knowing the particular event or events in Swiss history to which he refers, would not add much to our understanding of the poem.

In the Fenwick note Wordsworth incorrectly separates his _Song on the Restoration of Lord Clifford_ from the _Feast of Brougham Castle_. They are the same song.--ED.

TO THOMAS CLARKSON, ON THE FINAL PASSING OF THE BILL FOR THE ABOLITION
OF THE SLAVE TRADE, MARCH, 1807

Composed 1807.--Published 1807

One of the "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--ED.

Clarkson! it was an obstinate hill to climb:
How toilsome--nay, how dire--it was, by thee
Is known; by none, perhaps, so feelingly:
But thou, who, starting in thy fervent prime,
Didst first lead forth that enterprise[1] sublime, 5
Hast heard the constant Voice its charge repeat,
Which, out of thy young heart's oracular seat,
First roused thee.--O true yoke-fellow of Time,
Duty's intrepid liegeman, see,[2] the palm
Is won, and by all Nations shall be worn! 10
The blood-stained Writing is for ever torn;
And thou henceforth wilt have[3] a good man's calm,
A great man's happiness; thy zeal shall find
Repose at length, firm friend of human kind!

On the 25th of March 1807, the Royal assent was given to the Bill for the Abolition of the Slave Trade. The movement for its abolition was begun by Wilberforce, and carried on by Clarkson. Its abolition was voted by the House of Lords on the motion of Lord Grenville, and by the Commons on the motion of Charles James Fox, on the 10th of June 1806. The bill was read a second time in the Lords on the 5th of February, and became law on the 25th of March 1807.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1837.

... this pilgrimage ... 1807.

[2] 1837.

With unabating effort, see, ... 1807.

[3] 1837.

The bloody Writing is for ever torn,
And Thou henceforth shalt have ... 1807.

THE MOTHER'S RETURN

BY MY SISTER

Composed 1807.--Published 1815

[Written at Town-end, Grasmere.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--ED.

A month, sweet Little-ones, is past
Since your dear Mother went away,--
And she to-morrow will return;
To-morrow is the happy day.

O blessed tidings! thought of joy! 5
The eldest heard with steady glee;
Silent he stood; then laughed amain,--
And shouted, "Mother, come to me!"

Louder and louder did he shout,
With witless hope to bring her near; 10
"Nay, patience! patience, little boy!
Your tender mother cannot hear."

I told of hills, and far-off towns,
And long, long vales to travel through;--
He listens, puzzled, sore perplexed, 15
But he submits; what can he do?

No strife disturbs his sister's breast;
She wars not with the mystery
Of time and distance, night and day;
The bonds of our humanity. 20

Her joy is like an instinct, joy
Of kitten, bird, or summer fly;
She dances, runs without an aim,
She chatters in her ecstasy.

Her brother now takes up the note, 25
And echoes back his sister's glee;
They hug the infant in my arms,
As if to force his sympathy.

Then, settling into fond discourse,
We rested in the garden bower; 30
While sweetly shone the evening sun
In his departing hour.

We told o'er all that we had done,--
Our rambles by the swift brook's side
Far as the willow-skirted pool, 35
Where two fair swans together glide.

We talked of change, of winter gone,
Of green leaves on the hawthorn spray,
Of birds that build their nests and sing,
And all "since Mother went away!" 40

To her these tales they will repeat,
To her our new-born tribes will show,
The goslings green, the ass's colt,
The lambs that in the meadow go.

--But, see, the evening star comes forth! 45
To bed the children must depart;
A moment's heaviness they feel,
A sadness at the heart:

'Tis gone--and in a merry fit
They run up stairs in gamesome race; 50
I, too, infected by their mood,
I could have joined the wanton chase.

Five minutes past--and, O the change!
Asleep upon their beds they lie;
Their busy limbs in perfect rest, 55
And closed the sparkling eye.

The Fenwick note is inaccurate. These lines were written by Dorothy Wordsworth at Coleorton, on the eve of her brother and sister's return from London, in the spring of 1807, whither they had gone for a month--Dorothy remaining at Coleorton, in charge of the children. Previous to 1845, the poem was attributed to "a female Friend of the Author."--ED.

GIPSIES

Composed 1807.--Published 1807

[Composed at Coleorton. I had observed them, as here described, near Castle Donnington, on my way to and from Derby.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of the Imagination."--ED.

Yet are they here the same unbroken knot
Of human Beings, in the self-same spot!
Men, women, children, yea the frame
Of the whole spectacle the same!
Only their fire seems bolder, yielding light, 5
Now deep and red, the colouring of night;
That on their Gipsy-faces falls,
Their bed of straw and blanket-walls.
--Twelve hours, twelve bounteous hours are gone, while I
Have been a traveller under open sky, 10
Much witnessing of change and cheer,
Yet as I left I find them here!
The weary Sun betook himself to rest;--
Then issued Vesper from the fulgent west,
Outshining like a visible God 15
The glorious path in which he trod.
And now, ascending, after one dark hour
And one night's diminution of her power,
Behold the mighty Moon! this way
She looks as if at them--but they 20
Regard not her:--oh better wrong and strife
(By nature transient) than this torpid life;
Life which the very stars reprove[A]
As on their silent tasks they move![1][B]
Yet, witness all that stirs in heaven or[2] earth! 25
In scorn I speak not;--they are what their birth
And breeding suffer[3] them to be;
Wild outcasts of society![4]