Chapter XVII: Part IV (4)

If Life were slumber on a bed of down,
Toil unimposed, vicissitude unknown,
Sad were our lot: no hunter of the hare
Exults like him whose javelin from the lair
Has roused the lion; no one plucks the rose, 5
Whose proffered beauty in safe shelter blows
'Mid a trim garden's summer luxuries,
With joy like his who climbs, on hands and knees,
For some rare plant, yon Headland of St. Bees.

This independence upon oar and sail, 10
This new indifference to breeze or gale,
This straight-lined progress, furrowing a flat lea,
And regular as if locked in certainty--
Depress the hours. Up, Spirit of the storm!
That Courage may find something to perform; 15
That Fortitude, whose blood disdains to freeze
At Danger's bidding, may confront the seas,
Firm as the towering Headlands of St. Bees.

Dread cliff of Baruth! _that_ wild wish may sleep,
Bold as if men and creatures of the Deep 20
Breathed the same element; too many wrecks
Have struck thy sides, too many ghastly decks
Hast thou looked down upon, that such a thought
Should here be welcome, and in verse enwrought:
With thy stern aspect better far agrees 25
Utterance of thanks that we have past with ease,
As millions thus shall do, the Headlands of St. Bees.

Yet, while each useful Art augments her store,
What boots the gain if Nature should lose more?
And Wisdom, as she holds[819] a Christian place 30
In man's intelligence sublimed by grace?
When Bega sought of yore the Cumbrian coast,[820]
Tempestuous winds her holy errand cross'd:
She[821] knelt in prayer--the waves their wrath appease;
And, from her vow well weighed in Heaven's decrees,
Rose, where she touched the strand, the Chantry of St. Bees. 36

"Cruel of heart were they, bloody of hand,"
Who in these Wilds then struggled for command;[822]
The strong were merciless, without hope the weak;
Till this bright Stranger came, fair as day-break, 40
And as a cresset true that darts its length
Of beamy lustre from a tower of strength;
Guiding the mariner through troubled seas,
And cheering oft his peaceful reveries,
Like the fixed Light that crowns yon Headland of St. Bees. 45

To aid the Votaress, miracles believed
Wrought in men's minds, like miracles achieved;
So piety took root; and Song might tell
What humanising virtues near her cell[823]
Sprang up, and spread their fragrance wide around;
How savage bosoms melted at the sound 51
Of gospel-truth enchained in harmonies
Wafted o'er waves, or creeping through close trees,
From her religious Mansion of St. Bees.

When her sweet Voice, that instrument of love, 55
Was glorified, and took its place, above
The silent stars, among the angelic quire,
Her chantry blazed with sacrilegious fire,
And perished utterly; but her good deeds
Had sown the spot, that witnessed them, with seeds 60
Which lay in earth expectant, till a breeze
With quickening impulse answered their mute pleas,
And lo! a _statelier_ pile, the Abbey of St. Bees.[824]

There are[825] the naked clothed, the hungry fed;
And Charity extendeth[826] to the dead, 65
Her intercessions made for the soul's rest
Of tardy penitents; or for the best
Among the good (when love might else have slept,
Sickened, or died) in pious memory kept.
Thanks to the austere and simple Devotees, 70
Who, to that service bound by venial fees,
Keep watch before the altars of St. Bees.

Are[827] not, in sooth, their Requiems sacred ties[828]
Woven out of passion's sharpest agonies,
Subdued, composed, and formalized by art, 75
To fix a wiser sorrow in the heart?
The prayer for them whose hour is past away
Says[829] to the Living, profit while ye may!
A little part, and that the worst, he sees
Who thinks that priestly cunning holds the keys 80
That best unlock the secrets of St. Bees.

Conscience, the timid being's inmost light,
Hope of the dawn and solace of the night,
Cheers these Recluses with a steady ray
In many an hour when judgment goes astray. 85
Ah! scorn not hastily their rule who try
Earth to despise, and flesh to mortify;
Consume with zeal, in wingèd ecstasies
Of prayer and praise forget their rosaries,
Nor hear the loudest surges of St. Bees. 90

Yet none so prompt to succour and protect
The forlorn traveller, or sailor wrecked
On the bare coast; nor do they grudge the boon
Which staff and cockle hat and sandal shoon
Claim for the pilgrim: and, though chidings sharp 95
May sometimes greet the strolling minstrel's harp,
It is not then when, swept with sportive ease,
It charms a feast-day throng of all degrees,
Brightening the archway of revered St. Bees.

How did the cliffs and echoing hills rejoice 100
What time the Benedictine Brethren's voice,
Imploring, or commanding with meet pride,
Summoned the Chiefs to lay their feuds aside,
And under one blest ensign serve the Lord
In Palestine. Advance, indignant Sword! 105
Flaming till thou from Panym hands release
That Tomb, dread centre of all sanctities
Nursed in the quiet Abbey of St. Bees.

But look we now to them whose minds from far[830]
Follow the fortunes which they may not share. 110
While in Judea Fancy loves to roam,
She helps to make a Holy-land at home:
The Star of Bethlehem from its sphere invites
To sound the crystal depth of maiden rights;[831]
And wedded Life, through scriptural mysteries, 115
Heavenward ascends with all her charities,
Taught by the hooded Celibates of St. Bees.

Nor be it e'er forgotten how by skill
Of cloistered Architects, free their souls to fill
With love of God, throughout the Land were raised 120
Churches, on whose symbolic beauty gazed
Peasant and mail-clad Chief with pious awe;
As at this day men seeing what they saw,
Or the bare wreck of faith's solemnities,
Aspire to more than earthly destinies; 125
Witness yon Pile that greets us from St. Bees.[832]

Yet more; around those Churches, gathered Towns[833]
Safe from the feudal Castle's haughty frowns;
Peaceful abodes, where Justice might uphold
Her scales with even hand, and culture mould 130
The heart to pity, train the mind in care
For rules of life, sound as the Time could bear.
Nor dost thou fail, thro' abject love of ease,
Or hindrance raised by sordid purposes,
To bear thy part in this good work, St. Bees.[834] 135

Who with the ploughshare clove the barren moors,
And to green meadows changed the swampy shores?
Thinned the rank woods; and for the cheerful grange
Made room where wolf and boar were used to range?
Who taught, and showed by deeds, that gentler chains 140
Should bind the vassal to his lord's domains?
The thoughtful Monks, intent their God to please,
For Christ's dear sake, by human sympathies
Poured from the bosom of thy Church, St. Bees!

But all availed not; by a mandate given 145
Through lawless will the Brotherhood was driven
Forth from their cells; their ancient House laid low
In Reformation's sweeping overthrow.
But now once more the local Heart revives,
The inextinguishable Spirit strives. 150
Oh may that Power who hushed the stormy seas,
And cleared a way for the first Votaries,
Prosper the new-born College of St. Bees![835]

Alas! the Genius of our age, from Schools
Less humble, draws her lessons, aims, and rules. 153
To Prowess guided by her insight keen
Matter and Spirit are as one Machine;
Boastful Idolatress of formal skill
She in her own would merge the eternal will:[836]
Better,[837] if Reason's triumphs match with these, 160
Her flight before the bold credulities
That furthered the first teaching of St. Bees.[838]

FOOTNOTES:

[818] St. Bees' Heads, anciently called the Cliff of Baruth, are a conspicuous sea-mark for all vessels sailing in the N.E. parts of the Irish Sea. In a bay, one side of which is formed by the southern headland, stands the village of St. Bees; a place distinguished, from very early times, for its religious and scholastic foundations.

"St. Bees," say Nicholson and Burns, "had its name from Bega, an holy woman from Ireland, who is said to have founded here, about the year of our Lord 650, a small monastery, where afterwards a church was built in memory of her.

"The aforesaid religious house, being destroyed by the Danes, was restored by William de Meschiens, son of Ranulph, and brother of Ranulph de Meschiens, first Earl of Cumberland after the Conquest; and made a cell of a prior and six Benedictine monks to the Abbey of St. Mary at York."

Several traditions of miracles, connected with the foundation of the first of these religious houses, survive among the people of the neighbourhood; one of which is alluded to in these Stanzas; and another, of a somewhat bolder and more peculiar character, has furnished the subject of a spirited poem by the Rev. R. Parkinson, M.A., late Divinity Lecturer of St. Bees' College, and now Fellow of the Collegiate Church of Manchester.

After the dissolution of the monasteries, Archbishop Grindal founded a free school at St. Bees, from which the counties of Cumberland and Westmoreland have derived great benefit; and recently, under the patronage of the Earl of Lonsdale, a college has been established there for the education of ministers for the English Church. The old Conventual Church has been repaired under the superintendence of the Rev. Dr. Ainger, the Head of the College; and is well worthy of being visited by any strangers who might be led to the neighbourhood of this celebrated spot.

The form of stanza in this Poem, and something in the style of versification, are adopted from the _St. Monica_, a poem of much beauty upon a monastic subject, by Charlotte Smith: a lady to whom English verse is under greater obligations than are likely to be either acknowledged or remembered. She wrote little, and that little unambitiously, but with true feeling for rural nature,[839] at a time when nature was not much regarded by English Poets; for in point of time her earlier writings preceded, I believe, those of Cowper and Burns.[840]--W. W. 1835.

[819] 1845.

And Wisdom, that once held ... 1835.

[820] See the note, p. 351.--ED.

[821] 1837.

... cross'd;
As high and higher heaved the billows, faith
Grew with them, mightier than the powers of death.
She ... 1835.

[822] The Danes, and the Cymric aborigines.--ED.

[823] 1837.

... round her Cell 1835.

[824] See the extract from Nicholson and Burn's _History of Cumberland_, in Wordsworth's note, p. 351.--ED.

[825] 1837.

There were ... 1835.

[826] 1837.

... extended ... 1835.

[827] 1837.

Were ... 1835.

[828] I am aware that I am here treading upon tender ground; but to the intelligent reader I feel that[841] no apology is due. The prayers of survivors, during passionate grief for the recent loss of relatives and friends, as the object of those prayers could no longer be the suffering body of the dying, would naturally be ejaculated for the souls of the departed; the barriers between the two worlds dissolving before the power of love and faith. The ministers of religion, from their habitual attendance upon sick-beds, would be daily witnesses of these benign results; and hence would be strongly tempted to aim at giving to them permanence, by embodying them in rites and ceremonies, recurring at stated periods. All this, as it was in course of nature, so was it blameless, and even praiseworthy; since some of its effects, in that rude state of society, could not but be salutary. No reflecting person, however, can view[842] without sorrow the abuses which rose out of thus formalizing sublime instincts, and disinterested movements of passion, and perverting them into means of gratifying the ambition and rapacity of the priesthood. But, while we deplore and are indignant at these abuses, it would be a great mistake if we imputed the origin of the offices to prospective selfishness on the part of the monks and clergy: _they_ were at first sincere in their sympathy, and in their degree dupes rather of their own creed, than artful and designing men. Charity is, upon the whole, the safest guide that we can take in judging our fellow-men, whether of past ages, or of the present time.--W. W. 1835.

[829] 1837.

... was past away
Said ... 1835.

[830] 1837.

On, Champions, on!--But mark! the passing Day
Submits her intercourse to milder sway,
With high and low whose busy thoughts from far 1835.

[831] Compare _The Virgin_, in the "Ecclesiastical Sonnets," Part II. xxv.--ED.

[832] 1845.

As through the land we seeing what they saw,
Or the bare wreck of faith's solemnities,
May lift {the} hearts {to} blissful destinies;
{our} {for}
{Witness the remnant of thy Church, St. Bees.
{Witness your works, good coenobites of St. Bees. C.
(or)
As on this day we seeing what they saw,
Uplift our hearts for heavenly destinies
In field or town, 'mid mountain fastnesses,
Or on wave-beaten shores like thine, St. Bees. C.

[833] See "The English Town" in Green's _Short History of the English_ _People_, ch. iv. sec. 4.--ED.

[834] This stanza and the preceding one were added in 1845.--ED.

[835] This College was founded for the education of clerks in holy orders who did not mean to proceed to Oxford or Cambridge.--ED.

[836] 1835.

... our age, her rules
From schools that scorning faith in things unseen,
Most confident when most they overween,
Would merge, idolaters of formal skill
In their own system God's eternal will. C.

... aims and rules
Would merge, Idolaters of formal skill
In her own system God's eternal will. C.

[837] 1837.

... will:
Expert to move in paths that Newton trod,
From Newton's Universe would banish God.
Better, ... 1835.

[838] See _The Excursion_, seventh part; and "Ecclesiastical Sonnets," second part, near the beginning.--W. W. 1850.

The passages referred to are the following: _The Excursion_, book vii. l. 1008, etc. (vol. v. p. 324), beginning--

The courteous Knight,

and alluding to Sir Alfred Irthing; and in the "Ecclesiastical Sonnets," Part II. III., IV., V., _Cistercian Monastery_, and _Monks and Schoolmen_.--ED.

[839] 1837.

but with true feeling for nature. 1835.

[840] From "at a time" to "Burns" was added in 1837.

[841] 1845.

The Author is aware that he is here ... reader he feels that 1835.

[842] 1837.

praiseworthy; but no reflecting person can view 1835.

XII

IN THE CHANNEL, BETWEEN THE COAST OF CUMBERLAND AND THE ISLE OF MAN

Ranging the heights of Scawfell or Black-Comb,[843]
In his lone course the Shepherd oft will pause,
And strive to fathom the mysterious laws
By which the clouds, arrayed in light or gloom,
On Mona settle, and the shapes assume 5
Of all her peaks and ridges.[844] What he draws
From sense, faith, reason, fancy, of the cause,
He will take with him to the silent tomb.
Or, by his fire, a child upon his knee,
Haply the untaught Philosopher may speak 10
Of the strange sight, nor hide his theory
That satisfies the simple and the meek,
Blest in their pious ignorance, though weak
To cope with Sages undevoutly free.

FOOTNOTES:

[843] 1837.

... Black-coom, 1835.

[844] Compare the _View from the top of Black Comb_ (vol. iv. p. 279); also the Inscription, _Written with a Slate Pencil on a Stone, on the Side of the Mountain of Black Comb_ (vol. iv. p. 281).

The atmospheric phenomena referred to in the sonnet are frequently seen from the Cumberland hills, overspreading the peaks and ridges of the Isle of Man; and a similar appearance is often visible on the Cumbrian hills, as seen from Mona.--ED.

XIII

AT SEA OFF THE ISLE OF MAN

Bold words affirmed, in days when faith was strong
And doubts and scruples seldom teazed the brain,
That[845] no adventurer's bark had power to gain
These shores if he approached them bent on wrong;
For, suddenly up-conjured from the Main, 5
Mists rose to hide the Land--that search, though long
And eager, might be still pursued in vain.
O Fancy, what an age was _that_ for song!
That age, when not by _laws_ inanimate,
As men believed, the waters were impelled, 10
The air controlled, the stars their courses held;
But element and orb on _acts_ did wait
Of _Powers_ endued with visible form, instinct
With will, and to their work by passion linked.

FOOTNOTES:

[845] 1837.

... strong,
That ... 1835.

XIV

"DESIRE WE PAST ILLUSIONS TO RECAL"

Desire we past illusions to recal?
To reinstate wild Fancy, would we hide
Truth whose thick veil Science has drawn aside?
No,--let this Age, high as she may, instal
In her esteem the thirst that wrought man's fall, 5
The universe is infinitely wide;
And conquering Reason, if self-glorified,
Can nowhere move uncrossed by some new wall
Or gulf of mystery, which thou alone,
Imaginative Faith! canst overleap, 10
In progress toward the fount of Love,--the throne
Of Power whose ministers the[846] records keep
Of periods fixed, and laws established, less
Flesh to exalt than prove its nothingness.

FOOTNOTES:

[846] 1837.

Of Power, whose ministering Spirits ... 1835.

XV

ON ENTERING DOUGLAS BAY, ISLE OF MAN

"Dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori."[847]

The feudal Keep, the bastions of Cohorn,[848]
Even when they rose to check or to repel
Tides of aggressive war, oft served as well
Greedy ambition, armed to treat with scorn
Just limits; but yon Tower, whose smiles adorn 5
This perilous bay, stands clear of all offence;
Blest work it is of love and innocence,
A Tower of refuge built for the else forlorn.[849]
Spare it, ye waves, and lift the mariner,
Struggling for life, into its saving arms! 10
Spare, too, the human helpers! Do they stir
'Mid your fierce shock like men afraid to die?
No; their dread service nerves the heart it warms,
And they are led by noble HILLARY.[850]

FOOTNOTES:

[847] See Horace, _Odes_, book iv. ode viii. l. 28.--ED.

[848] Baron Menno van Cohorn (or Coehoorn) was a Dutch military engineer of genius (1641-1704). His fame rests on discoveries connected with the effect of projectiles on fortifications. His practical successes against the French, under Vauban, were great; and the fortifications he designed and constructed, of which that of Bergen-op-Zoom was the chief, give him a place in the history of military science, greater than that derived from his writings. He devised a kind of small mortar or howitzer, for use in siege operations, which is named after him a Cohorn.--ED.

[849] 1845.

A Tower of refuge to the else forlorn. 1835.

A Tower of refuge built for the forlorn. C.

[850] The TOWER OF REFUGE, an ornament to Douglas Bay, was erected chiefly through the humanity and zeal of Sir William Hillary; and he also was the founder of the lifeboat establishment, at that place; by which, under his superintendence, and often by his exertions at the imminent hazard of his own life, many seamen and passengers have been saved.--W. W. 1835.

In Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal of a visit to the Isle of Man in 1826, the following occurs:--"Monday, 3rd July.--Sir William Hillary saved a boy's life to-day in harbour. He raised a regiment for government, and chose his own reward, viz., a Baronetcy! and now lives here on £300 per annum, etc. etc."--ED.

XVI

BY THE SEA-SHORE, ISLE OF MAN

Why stand we gazing on the sparkling Brine,
With wonder smit by its transparency,
And all-enraptured with its purity?--
Because the unstained, the clear, the crystalline,
Have ever in them something of benign; 5
Whether in gem, in water, or in sky,
A sleeping infant's brow, or wakeful eye
Of a young maiden, only not divine.
Scarcely the hand forbears to dip its palm
For beverage drawn as from a mountain-well. 10
Temptation centres in the liquid Calm;
Our daily raiment seems no obstacle
To instantaneous plunging in, deep Sea!
And revelling[851] in long embrace with thee.[852]

FOOTNOTES:

[851] 1835.

And wantoning ...

MS.

[852] The sea-water on the coast of the Isle of Man is singularly pure and beautiful.--W. W. 1837.

XVII

ISLE OF MAN

[My son William[853] is here the person alluded to as saving the life of the youth, and the circumstances were as mentioned in the Sonnet.--I. F.]

A youth too certain of his power to wade
On the smooth bottom of this clear bright sea,[854]
To sight so shallow, with a bather's glee,
Leapt from this rock, and but for timely aid
He, by the alluring element betrayed, 5
Had perished. Then might Sea-nymphs (and with sighs
Of self-reproach) have chanted elegies[855]
Bewailing his sad fate, when he was laid[856]
In peaceful earth: for, doubtless, he was frank,
Utterly in himself devoid of guile; 10
Knew not the double-dealing of a smile;
Nor aught that makes men's promises a blank,
Or deadly snare: and He survives to bless
The Power that saved him in his strange distress.

FOOTNOTES:

[853] But it was his son John, and not William, who accompanied the poet in this Tour. See the first Fenwick note (p. 342).--ED.

[854] 1835.

... that his feet could wade
At will the flow of this pellucid sea,

MS.

On the smooth bottom of this clear blue sea,

MS.

[855] Compare Ariel's Song in _The Tempest_, act I. scene ii.--

Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell.--ED.

[856] 1837.

Leapt from this rock, and surely, had not aid
Been near, must soon have breathed out life, betrayed
By fondly trusting to an element
Fair, and to others more than innocent;
Then had sea-nymphs sung dirges for him laid 1835.

Here ...

MS.

XVIII

ISLE OF MAN[857]

Did[858] pangs of grief for lenient time too keen,
Grief that devouring waves had caused--or guilt[859]
Which they had witnessed, sway[860] the man who built
This Homestead, placed where nothing could be seen,
Nought heard, of ocean troubled or serene? 5
A tired Ship-soldier[861] on paternal land,
That o'er the channel holds august command,
The dwelling raised,--a veteran Marine![862]
He, in disgust, turned from the neighbouring sea[863]
To shun the memory of a listless life 10
That hung between two callings. May no strife
More hurtful here beset him, doomed though free,
Self-doomed, to worse inaction, till his eye
Shrink from the daily sight of earth and sky!

FOOTNOTES:

[857] 1837.

The Retired Marine Officer, Isle of Man. 1835.

[858] 1837.

Not ... 1835.

[859] 1837.

... nor guilt 1835.

[860] 1837.

... swayed ... 1835.

[861] 1835.

No--a Ship-soldier ... 1837.

[862] Henry Hutchinson. See the Fenwick note to the next sonnet.--ED.

[863] 1835.

The dwelling raised. Fantastic slave of spleen
He sought by shunning thus the neighbouring sea,
Refuge from memory of a listless life C.

The habitation raised, a slave of spleen, C.

The weary man turned from the neighbouring sea

MS.

XIX

BY A RETIRED MARINER[864]

(A FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR)

[Mrs. Wordsworth's Brother, Henry.[865]--I. F.]

From early youth I ploughed the restless Main,
My mind as restless and as apt to change;
Through every clime and ocean did I range,
In hope at length a competence to gain;
For poor to Sea I went, and poor I still remain. 5
Year after year I strove, but strove in vain,
And hardships manifold did I endure,
For Fortune on me never deign'd to smile;
Yet I at last a resting-place have found,
With just enough life's comforts to procure, 10
In a snug Cove on this our favoured Isle,
A peaceful spot where Nature's gifts abound;
Then sure I have no reason to complain,
Though poor to Sea I went, and poor I still remain.

FOOTNOTES:

[864] This unpretending Sonnet is by a gentleman nearly connected with me, and I hope, as it falls so easily into its place, that both the writer and the reader will excuse its appearance here.--W. W. 1835.

[865] Mr. Henry Hutchinson, Mrs. Wordsworth's brother, was--the Bishop of Lincoln tells us--"a person of great originality and vigour of mind, a very enterprising sailor, and a writer of verses distinguished by no ordinary merit."--See the _Memoirs of Wordsworth_, vol. ii. p. 246.--ED.

XX

AT BALA-SALA, ISLE OF MAN

(SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY A FRIEND)

[Supposed to be written by a friend (Mr. Cookson), who died there a few years after.[866]--I. F.]

Broken in fortune, but in mind entire
And sound in principle, I seek repose
Where ancient trees this convent-pile enclose,[867]
In ruin beautiful. When vain desire
Intrudes on peace, I pray the eternal Sire 5
To cast a soul-subduing shade on me,
A grey-haired, pensive, thankful Refugee;
A shade--but with some sparks of heavenly fire
Once to these cells vouchsafed.[868] And when I note
The old Tower's brow yellowed as with the beams 10
Of sunset ever there,[869] albeit streams[870]
Of stormy weather-stains that semblance wrought,
I thank the silent Monitor, and say
"Shine so, my aged brow, at all hours of the day!"

FOOTNOTES:

[866] Henry Crabb Robinson--the Wordsworths' companion in the tour, wrote in his Journal, 14th July: "At Ballasalla called on Mr. and Mrs. Cookson, esteemed friends of the W.'s, whom adversity had driven to this asylum."--ED.

[867] Rushen Abbey.--W. W. 1835.

[868] 1835.

... with such sparks of holy fire
As once were cherished here....

MS.

[869] The "old Tower" is that of Rushen Abbey, close to Bala-Sala, the latest dissolved monastery in the British Isles. Little of it survives; only the tower, refectory, and dormitory. The tower is still yellowed with lichen stains. The following occurs in one of Mr. H. C. Robinson's letters on the Italian Tour of 1837:--"This reminds me that I was once privy to the conception of a Sonnet with a distinctness which did not once occur on the longer Italian journey. This was when I accompanied him into the Isle of Man. We had been drinking tea with Mr. and Mrs. Cookson, and left them when the weather was dull. Very soon after leaving them we passed the Church Tower of Bala-Sala. The upper part of the tower had a sort of frieze of yellow lichens. Mr. W. Pointed it out to me, and said, 'It's a Perpetual sunshine.' I thought no more of it till I had read the beautiful sonnet,

'Broken in fortune, but in mind entire.'"--ED.

[870] 1835.

.... and know that streams

MS.

XXI

TYNWALD HILL

[Mr. Robinson and I walked the greater part of the way from Castle-town to Piel, and stopped some time at Tynwald Hill. One of my companions was an elderly man who, in a muddy way (for he was tipsy), explained and answered, as far as he could, my enquiries about this place and the ceremonies held here. I found more agreeable company in some little children; one of them, upon my request, recited the Lord's Prayer to me, and I helped her to a clearer understanding of it as well as I could; but I was not at all satisfied with my own part; hers was much better done, and I am persuaded that, like other children, she knew more about it than she was able to express, especially to a stranger.--I. F.]

Once on the top of Tynwald's formal mound
(Still marked with green turf circles narrowing[871]
Stage above stage)[872] would sit this Island's King,
The laws to promulgate, enrobed and crowned;
While, compassing the little mount around,[873] 5
Degrees and Orders stood, each under each:
Now, like to things within fate's easiest reach,[874]
The power is merged, the pomp a grave has found.
Off with yon cloud,[875] old Snafell![876] that thine eye
Over three Realms may take its widest range; 10
And let, for them, thy fountains utter strange
Voices, thy winds break forth in prophecy,
If the whole State must suffer mortal change,
Like Mona's miniature of sovereignty.

FOOTNOTES:

[871] The ground at Tynwald Hill (as it is called) remains unchanged. Here, on a small plot of ground, the whole Manx people meet annually on Midsummer Day, July 5th, to appoint officers and enact new laws. The first historical notice of these meetings is in 1417. The name Tynwald is derived from the Scandinavian _thing_, "court of justice," and _wald_, "fenced." The mound is only 12 feet high, rising by four circular platforms, each 3 feet higher than the one below it. The circumference at the base is 240 feet, and at the top 18 feet. It used once to be walled round, and had two gates. The approach now is by twenty-one steps cut in the turf.

In his _Diary_, _etc._, Robinson wrote of Tynwald--"It brought to my mind a similar monument of simple manners at Sarnen in Switzerland."--ED.

[872] 1835.

Once on the top of Tynwald Hill (a Mound

MS.

Time was when on the top of yon small mound
(Still marked with circles duly narrowing
Each above each) ...

MS.

[873] 1835.

Would sit by solemn usage robed and crowned,
While compassing the grassy mount around,

MS.

Sate 'mid the assembled people robed and crowned,

MS.

[874] 1835.

Now like a thing within Fate's easiest reach,

MS.

[875] 1835.

Off with those clouds, ...

MS.

[876] The summit of this mountain is well chosen by Cowley as the scene of the "Vision," in which the spectral angel discourses with him concerning the government of Oliver Cromwell. "I found myself," says he, "on the top of that famous hill in the Island Mona, which has the prospect of three great, and not long since most happy, kingdoms. As soon as ever I looked upon them, they called forth the sad representation of all the sins and all the miseries that had overwhelmed them these twenty years." It is not to be denied that the changes now in progress, and the passions, and the way in which they work, strikingly resemble those which led to the disasters the philosophic writer so feelingly bewails. God grant that the resemblance may not become still more striking as months and years advance!--W. W. 1835.

The top of Snaefell (which Wordsworth names "Snafell"), the highest mountain in the Isle of Man, whence England, Scotland, and Ireland are to be seen, as mentioned in the Sonnet, is not visible from Tynwald Hill.--ED.

XXII

"DESPOND WHO WILL--_I_ HEARD A VOICE EXCLAIM"

Despond who will--_I_ heard a voice exclaim,
"Though fierce the assault, and shatter'd the defence,[877]
It cannot be that Britain's social frame,
The glorious work of time and providence,
Before a flying season's rash pretence,[878] 5
Should fall; that She, whose virtue put to shame,
When Europe prostrate lay, the Conqueror's aim,
Should perish, self-subverted. Black and dense
The cloud is; but brings _that_ a day of doom
To Liberty? Her sun is up the while,[879] 10
That orb whose beams round Saxon Alfred shone:
Then laugh, ye innocent Vales! ye Streams, sweep on,
Nor let one billow of our heaven-blest Isle[880]
Toss in the fanning wind a humbler plume."

FOOTNOTES:

[877] 1835.

Clear voices from pure worlds of hope exclaim
"Tho' fierce the assault, and shattered the defence,"

MS.

[878] 1835.

Before a season's calculating sense,

MS.

[879] 1835.

... The sun is up ...

MS.

[880] 1835.

... of this heaven-blest Isle

MS.

XXIII

IN THE FRITH OF CLYDE, AILSA CRAG[881]

DURING AN ECLIPSE OF THE SUN, JULY 17

[The morning of the eclipse was exquisitely beautiful while we passed the Crag as described in the Sonnet. On the deck of the steam-boat were several persons of the poor and labouring class, and I could not but be struck by their cheerful talk with each other, while not one of them seemed to notice the magnificent objects with which we were surrounded; and even the phenomenon of the eclipse attracted but little of their attention. Was it right not to regret this? They appeared to me, however, so much alive in their own minds to their own concerns that I could not look upon it as a misfortune that they had little perception for such pleasures as cannot be cultivated without ease and leisure. Yet, if one surveys life in all its duties and relations, such ease and leisure will not be found so enviable a privilege as it may at first appear. Natural Philosophy, Painting, and Poetry, and refined taste are no doubt great acquisitions to society; but among those who dedicate themselves to such pursuits, it is to be feared that few are as happy, and as consistent in the management of their lives, as the class of persons who at that time led me into this course of reflection. I do not mean by this to be understood to derogate from intellectual pursuits, for that would be monstrous: I say it in deep gratitude for this compensation to those whose cares are limited to the necessities of daily life. Among them, self-tormentors, so numerous in the higher classes of society, are rare.--I. F.]

Since risen from ocean, ocean to defy,
Appeared the Crag of Ailsa, ne'er did morn
With gleaming lights more gracefully adorn
His sides, or wreathe with mist his forehead high:
Now, faintly darkening with the sun's eclipse,[882] 5
Still is he seen, in lone sublimity,
Towering above the sea and little ships;
For dwarfs the tallest seem while sailing by,
Each for her haven; with her freight of Care,
Pleasure, or Grief, and Toil that seldom looks 10
Into the secret of to-morrow's fare;
Though poor, yet rich, without the wealth of books,
Or aught that watchful Love to Nature owes
For her mute Powers, fix'd Forms, or[883] transient Shows.

FOOTNOTES:

[881] 1845.

IN THE FRITH OF CLYDE, AILSA CRAG.
(July 17, 1833) 1835.

IN THE FRITH OF CLYDE, AILSA CRAG.
(July 17) 1837.

[882] Compare _The Eclipse of the Sun_, 1820, in the "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, 1820" (vol. vi. p. 345).--ED.

[883] 1837.

... and ... 1835.

XXIV

ON THE FRITH OF CLYDE

(IN A STEAM-BOAT)

[The mountain outline on the north of this island, as seen from the Frith of Clyde,[884] is much the finest I have ever noticed in Scotland or elsewhere--I.F.]

Arran! a single-crested Teneriffe,
A St. Helena next--in shape and hue,
Varying her crowded peaks and ridges blue;
Who but must covet a cloud-seat, or skiff
Built for the air, or winged Hippogriff? 5
That he might fly, where no one could pursue,
From this dull Monster and her sooty crew;
And, as[885] a God, light on thy topmost cliff.
Impotent wish! which reason would despise
If the mind knew no union of extremes, 10
No natural bond between the boldest schemes
Ambition frames, and heart-humilities.[886]
Beneath stern mountains many a soft vale lies,
And lofty springs give birth to lowly streams.

FOOTNOTES:

[884] He doubtless refers to the view of Goatfell and Kaim-na-Calliach, with Loch Ranza in front.--ED.

[885] 1837.

And, like ... 1835.

[886] Compare _The Triad_, II. 145-148--

High is her aim as heaven above,
And wide as ether her good-will;
And, like the lowly reed, her love
Can drink its nurture from the scantiest rill.--ED.

XXV

ON REVISITING DUNOLLY CASTLE

(See former series, "Yarrow Revisited," etc., p. 278.)

The captive Bird was gone;--to cliff or moor
Perchance had flown, delivered by the storm;
Or he had pined, and sunk to feed the worm:
Him found we not: but, climbing a tall tower,
There saw, impaved with rude fidelity 5
Of art mosaic, in a roofless floor,[887]
An Eagle with stretched wings, but beamless eye--
An Eagle that could neither wail nor soar.
Effigy[888] of the Vanished[889]--(shall I dare
To call thee so?) or symbol of fierce deeds 10
And of the towering courage which past times
Rejoiced in--take, whate'er thou be, a share,[890]
Not undeserved, of the memorial rhymes
That animate my way where'er it leads!

Lieutenant-Colonel M'Dougal of Dunollie wrote to me (October 1883) that "the mosaic picture of an eagle--if it may be called so--still exists, though it is rather a rude work of art. I believe it was executed by a gardener, who was here about the time of Wordsworth's visit. It was made of small stones, and is now a good deal overgrown with weeds, moss, etc., as the second story of the old ruin is open to the weather. An eagle was for many years kept in a cage, made against a wall of the ruin, and this no doubt was the cause of the rude picture being made."--ED.

FOOTNOTES:

[887] 1835.

Espied an old mosaic effigy
Set in a roofless chamber's pavement floor,

MS.

[888] 1837.

Shade of the poor Departed ... MS.

Effigies of the Vanished ... 1835.

[889] This ingenious piece of workmanship, as I afterwards learned, had been executed for their own amusement by some labourers employed about the place.--W. W. 1835.

[890] 1837.

... or symbol of past times,
That towering courage, and the savage deeds
Those times were proud of, take Thou too a share, 1835.

Their towering courage, and the savage deeds
Which they were proud of, ...

MS.

XXVI

THE DUNOLLY EAGLE

Not to the clouds, not to the cliff, he flew;
But when a storm, on sea or mountain bred,
Came and delivered him, alone he sped
Into the castle-dungeon's darkest mew.
Now, near his master's house in open view 5
He dwells, and hears indignant tempests howl,
Kennelled and chained. Ye tame domestic fowl,[891]
Beware of him! Thou, saucy cockatoo,
Look to thy plumage and thy life!--The roe,
Fleet as the west wind, is for _him_ no quarry; 10
Balanced in ether he will never tarry,
Eyeing the sea's blue depths. Poor Bird! even so
Doth man of brother man a creature make
That clings to slavery for its own sad sake.

FOOTNOTES:

[891] 1835.

... villatic Fowl,

MS.

XXVII

WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF MACPHERSON'S OSSIAN[892]

Composed 1824.--Published 1827

[The verses,

or strayed
From hope and promise, self-betrayed,

were, I am sorry to say, suggested from apprehensions of the fate of my friend, H.C.,[893] the subject of the verses addressed to _H.C. when six years old_. The piece to "Memory" arose out of similar feelings.[894]--I. F.]

Oft have I caught, upon a fitful breeze,[895]
Fragments of far-off melodies,
With ear not coveting the whole,
A part so charmed the pensive soul:
While a dark storm before my sight 5
Was yielding, on a mountain height
Loose vapours have I watched, that won
Prismatic colours from the sun;
Nor felt a wish that heaven would show
The image of its perfect bow. 10
What need, then, of these finished Strains?
Away with counterfeit Remains!
An abbey in its lone recess,
A temple of the wilderness,
Wrecks though they be, announce with feeling 15
The majesty of honest dealing.
Spirit of Ossian! if imbound
In language thou may'st yet be found,
If aught (intrusted to the pen
Or floating on the tongues of men, 20
Albeit shattered and impaired)
Subsist thy dignity to guard,
In concert with memorial claim
Of old grey stone, and high-born name
That cleaves to rock or pillared cave 25
Where moans the blast, or beats the wave,
Let Truth, stern arbitress of all,
Interpret that Original,
And for presumptuous wrongs atone;--
Authentic words be given, or none! 30

Time is not blind;--yet He, who spares
Pyramid pointing to the stars,
Hath preyed with ruthless appetite
On all that marked the primal flight
Of the poetic ecstasy 35
Into the land of mystery.
No tongue is able to rehearse
One measure, Orpheus! of thy verse;[896]
Musæus, stationed with his lyre
Supreme among the Elysian quire, 40
Is, for the dwellers upon earth
Mute as a lark ere morning's birth,[897]
Why grieve for these, though past away
The music, and extinct the lay?
When thousands, by severer doom, 45
Full early to the silent tomb
Have sunk, at Nature's call; or strayed
From hope and promise, self-betrayed;
The garland withering on their brows;
Stung with remorse for broken vows; 50
Frantic--else how might they rejoice?
And friendless, by their own sad choice!

Hail, Bards of mightier grasp! on you
I chiefly call, the chosen Few,
Who cast-not off the acknowledged guide, 55
Who faltered not, nor turned aside;
Whose lofty genius could survive
Privation, under sorrow thrive;
In whom the fiery Muse revered
The symbol of a snow-white beard, 60
Bedewed with meditative tears
Dropped from the lenient cloud of years.

Brothers in soul! though distant times
Produced you nursed in various climes,
Ye, when the orb of life had waned, 65
A plenitude of love retained:
Hence, while in you each sad regret
By corresponding hope was met,
Ye lingered among human kind,
Sweet voices for the passing wind; 70
Departing sunbeams, loth to stop,
Though smiling on the last hill top![898]
Such to the tender-hearted maid
Even ere her joys begin to fade;
Such, haply, to the rugged chief 75
By fortune crushed, or tamed by grief;
Appears, on Morven's lonely shore,
Dim-gleaming through imperfect lore,
The Son of Fingal; such was blind
Mæonides of ampler mind;[899] 80
Such Milton, to the fountain head
Of glory by Urania led!

FOOTNOTES:

[892] This poem was first published among the _Poems of Sentiment and_ _Reflection_ in the edition of 1827. In the edition of 1836 Wordsworth gave 1824 as the year of its composition. It is here printed in the series to which it was finally assigned, although slightly out of its chronological place.--ED.

[893] Hartley Coleridge.--ED.

[894] See p. 117.--ED.

[895] 1832.

... caught from fitful breeze 1827.

[896] The genuine Orphic Literature included some Hymns, a Theogony, Oracles, Songs, and Sacred Legends, #hieroi logoi#: but none have come down to modern times. The _Orphica_ which have survived are spurious.--ED.

[897] None of the fragments attributed to Musæus by the ancients--the #Chrêsmoi#, #Hypothêkai#, #Theogonia#, etc.--have survived.--ED.

[898] Compare vol. ii. p. 163--

There is an Eminence,--of these our hills
The last that parleys with the setting sun.--ED.

[899] Homer; so called from the fact that Mæonia in Lydia was, by some, claimed as his birth-place.--ED.

XXVIII

CAVE OF STAFFA[900]

We saw, but surely, in the motley crowd,
Not one of us has felt the far-famed sight;
How _could_ we feel it? each the other's blight,
Hurried and hurrying, volatile and loud.
O for those motions only that invite 5
The Ghost of Fingal to his tuneful Cave
By the breeze entered, and wave after wave
Softly embosoming the timid light!
And by _one_ Votary who at will might stand
Gazing, and take into his mind and heart, 10
With undistracted reverence, the effect
Of those proportions where the almighty hand
That made the worlds, the sovereign Architect,
Has deigned to work as if with human Art![901]

FOOTNOTES:

[900] The reader may be tempted to exclaim, "How came this and the two following sonnets to be written, after the dissatisfaction expressed in the preceding one?" In fact, at the risk of incurring the reasonable displeasure of the master of the steam-boat, I returned[902] to the cave, and explored it under circumstances more favourable to those imaginative impressions which it is so wonderfully fitted to make upon the mind.--W. W. 1835.

[901] Staffa, or the island of Staves, as some derive the name.--ED.

[902] 1845.

the Author returned 1835.

XXIX

CAVE OF STAFFA

(AFTER THE CROWD HAD DEPARTED)[903]

Thanks for the lessons of this Spot--fit school
For the presumptuous thoughts that would assign
Mechanic laws to agency divine;
And, measuring heaven by earth, would overrule
Infinite Power. The pillared vestibule, 5
Expanding yet precise, the roof embowed,[904]
Might seem designed to humble man, when proud
Of his best workmanship by plan and tool.
Down-bearing with his whole Atlantic weight
Of tide and tempest on the Structure's base, 10
And flashing to that Structure's topmost height,[905]
Ocean has proved its strength, and of its grace
In calms is conscious,[906] finding for his freight
Of softest music some responsive place.

FOOTNOTES:

[903] 1845.

CAVE OF STAFFA. 1835.

[904] Note the topographical accuracy of this description.--ED.

[905] 1837.

And flashing upwards to its topmost height, 1835.

[906] Compare, _On a high part of the Coast of Cumberland_, p. 338--

No; 'tis the earth-voice of the mighty sea,
Whispering how meek and gentle he _can_ be!--ED.

XXX

CAVE OF STAFFA

Ye shadowy Beings, that have rights and claims
In every cell of Fingal's mystic Grot,
Where are ye? Driven or venturing to the spot,
Our fathers glimpses caught of your thin Frames,
And, by your mien and bearing, knew your names; 5
And they could hear _his_ ghostly song who trod
Earth, till the flesh lay on him like a load,
While he struck his desolate harp without hopes or aims.
Vanished ye are, but subject to recal;
Why keep _we_ else the instincts whose dread law 10
Ruled here of yore, till what men felt they saw,
Not by black arts but magic natural!
If eyes be still sworn vassals of belief,
Yon light shapes forth a Bard, that shade a Chief.

XXXI

FLOWERS ON THE TOP OF THE PILLARS AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE CAVE

Hope smiled when your nativity was cast,
Children of Summer![907] Ye fresh Flowers that brave
What Summer here escapes not, the fierce wave,
And whole artillery of the western blast,
Battering the Temple's front, its long-drawn nave 5
Smiting, as if each moment were their last.
But ye, bright Flowers, on frieze and architrave
Survive,[908] and once again the Pile stands fast;
Calm as the Universe, from specular towers
Of heaven contemplated by Spirits pure 10
With mute astonishment, it stands sustained
Through every part in symmetry, to endure,[909]
Unhurt, the assault of Time with all his hours,
As the supreme Artificer ordained.[910]

FOOTNOTES:

[907] Upon the head of the columns which form the front of the cave, rests a body of decomposed basaltic matter, which was richly decorated with that large bright flower, the ox-eyed daisy. I had[911] noticed the same flower growing with profusion among the bold rocks on the western coast of the Isle of Man; making a brilliant contrast with their black and gloomy surfaces.--W. W. 1835.

[908] They still survive, and flourish above the pillars.--ED.

[909] 1840 and C.

Suns and their systems, diverse yet sustained
In symmetry, and fashioned to endure, 1835.

[910] 1835.

As the Supreme Geometer ordained.

MS.

[911] 1845.

The author had 1835.

XXXII

IONA

On to Iona!--What can she afford
To _us_ save matter for a thoughtful sigh,
Heaved over ruin with stability
In urgent contrast? To diffuse the WORD
(Thy Paramount, mighty Nature! and Time's Lord)
Her Temples rose,[912] 'mid pagan gloom; but why, 6
Even for a moment, has our verse deplored
Their wrongs, since they fulfilled their destiny?
And when, subjected to a common doom
Of mutability, those far-famed Piles 10
Shall disappear from both the sister Isles,
Iona's Saints, forgetting not past days,
Garlands shall wear of amaranthine bloom,
While heaven's vast sea of voices chants their praise.

FOOTNOTES:

[912] St. Columba took up his residence at Iona, in 563.--ED.

XXXIII

IONA

(UPON LANDING)

How sad a welcome! To each voyager[913]
Some ragged child holds up for sale a store[914]
Of wave-worn pebbles, pleading on the shore[915]
Where once came monk and nun with gentle stir,
Blessings to give, news ask, or suit prefer. 5
Yet is[916] yon neat trim church[917] a grateful speck
Of novelty amid the sacred wreck
Strewn far and wide. Think, proud Philosopher![918]
Fallen though she be, this Glory of the west,[919]
Still on her sons, the beams of mercy shine; 10
And "hopes, perhaps more heavenly bright than thine,
A grace by thee unsought and unpossest,
A faith more fixed, a rapture more divine,
Shall gild their passage to eternal rest."[920]

FOOTNOTES:

[913] 1837.

With earnest look, to every voyager, 1835.

[914] 1837.

... his store 1835.

[915] 1835.

With outstretched hands, round every voyager
Press ragged children, each to supplicate
A price for wave-worn pebbles on his plate,

MS.

[916] 1837.

But see ... 1835.

[917] This refers to the modern parish Church on the Island, not to St. Oran's Chapel, or the Cathedral Church of St. Mary.--ED.

[918] 1837.

... this sacred wreck--
Nay spare thy scorn, haughty Philosopher! 1835.

[919] 1835.

Fallen as she is, this Glory of the West,

MS.

[920] The four last lines of this sonnet are adopted from a well-known sonnet of Russel, as conveying my feeling[921] better than any words of my own[922] could do.--W. W. 1835.

These "last four lines" are taken from sonnet No. x. of _Sonnets and_ _Miscellaneous Poems_, by the late Thomas Russel, Fellow of New College Oxford, printed for D. Price and J. Cooke, 1789. The Rev. Thomas Russell, author of these _Sonnets_, was born 1762, died 1788. He was a Wykehamist, and is referred to in a letter by Wordsworth to Dyce in 1833.--ED.

[921] 1845

the author's feeling 1835.

[922] 1845

his own 1835.

XXXIV

THE BLACK STONES OF IONA

[See Martin's Voyage among the Western Isles.[923]]

Here on their knees men swore; the stones were black,[924]
Black in the people's minds and words,[925] yet they
Were at that time, as now, in colour grey.
But what is colour, if upon the rack
Of conscience souls are placed by deeds that lack 5
Concord with oaths? What differ night and day
Then, when before the Perjured on his way
Hell opens, and the heavens in vengeance crack
Above his head uplifted in vain prayer
To Saint, or Fiend,[926] or to the Godhead whom 10
He had insulted--Peasant, King, or Thane?
Fly where the culprit may, guilt meets a doom;
And, from invisible worlds at need laid bare,
Come links for social order's awful chain.

FOOTNOTES:

[923] _Description of the Western Islands of Scotland; including an account of the Manners, Customs, Religion, Language, Dress, etc., of the Inhabitants_, by M. Martin, 1703.--ED.

[924] In Johnson's _Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland_ the following occurs in the section on "Icolmkill:"--"The place is said to be known where the Black Stones lie concealed, on which the old Highland chiefs, when they made contracts and alliances, used to take the oath, which was considered more sacred than any other obligation, and which could not be violated without the blackest infamy. In these days of violence and rapine, it was of great importance to impose upon savage minds the sanctity of an oath, by some particular and extraordinary circumstances--they would not have recourse to the Black Stones upon small or common occasions; and when they had established their faith by this tremendous sanction, inconstancy and treachery were no longer feared."--ED.

[925] 1835.

Here on their knees, they swore, the stones were black,
Black in men's minds and words, ...

MS.

[926] 1835.

To saints, to fiends, ...

MS.

XXXV

"HOMEWARD WE TURN. ISLE OF COLUMBA'S CELL"

Homeward we turn. Isle of Columba's Cell,
Where Christian piety's soul-cheering spark
(Kindled from Heaven between the light and dark
Of time) shone like the morning-star, farewell!--
And fare thee well, to Fancy visible, 5
Remote St. Kilda, lone and loved sea-mark[927]
For many a voyage made in her swift bark,[928]
When with more hues than in the rainbow dwell
Thou a mysterious intercourse dost hold,
Extracting from clear skies and air serene, 10
And out of sun-bright waves, a lucid veil,
That thickens, spreads, and, mingling fold with fold,
Makes known, when thou no longer canst be seen,
Thy whereabout, to warn the approaching sail.

FOOTNOTES:

[927] St. Kilda is sixty miles to the north-west of Harris, in the Outer Hebrides.--ED.

[928] 1837.

... farewell!--
Remote St. Kilda, art thou visible?
No--but farewell to thee, beloved sea-mark
From many a voyage made in Fancy's bark, 1835.

XXXVI

GREENOCK

Per me si va nella Città dolente.[929]

_We_ have not passed into a doleful City,
We who were led to-day down a grim dell,
By some too boldly named "the Jaws of Hell:"[930]
Where be the wretched ones, the sights for pity?
These crowded streets resound no plaintive ditty:-- 5
As from the hive where bees in summer dwell,
Sorrow seems here excluded; and that knell,
It neither damps the gay, nor checks the witty.
Alas! too busy Rival of old Tyre,[931]
Whose merchants Princes were, whose decks were thrones;
Soon may the punctual sea in vain respire 11
To serve thy need, in union with that Clyde
Whose nursling current brawls o'er mossy stones,[932]
The poor, the lonely, herdsman's joy and pride.

FOOTNOTES:

[929] See Dante, _Inferno_, iii. I.--ED.

[930] They came down from Inveraray to Loch Goil by Hell's Glen.--ED.

[931] 1837.

Too busy Mart! thus fared it with old Tyre, 1835.

[932] Above Elvanfoot, near the watershed, at "Summit" on the Caledonian Railway line, where the Clyde rises.--ED.

XXXVII

"THERE!" SAID A STRIPLING, POINTING WITH MEET PRIDE