Chapter XVIII: Part IV (5)

[Mosgiel was thus pointed out to me by a young man on the top of the coach on my way from Glasgow to Kilmarnock. It is remarkable that, though Burns lived some time here, and during much the most productive period of his poetical life, he nowhere adverts to the splendid prospects stretching towards the sea and bounded by the peaks of Arran on one part, which in clear weather he must have had daily before his eyes. In one of his poetical effusions he speaks of describing "fair Nature's face" as a privilege on which he sets a high value; nevertheless, natural appearances rarely take a lead in his poetry. It is as a human being, eminently sensitive and intelligent, and not as a poet, clad in his priestly robes and carrying the ensigns of sacerdotal office, that he interests and affects us. Whether he speaks of rivers, hills and woods, it is not so much on account of the properties with which they are absolutely endowed, as relatively to local patriotic remembrances and associations, or as they ministered to personal feelings, especially those of love, whether happy or otherwise;--yet it is not always so. Soon after we had passed Mosgiel Farm we crossed the Ayr, murmuring and winding through a narrow woody hollow. His line--"Auld hermit Ayr strays through his woods"--came at once to my mind with Irwin, Lugar, Ayr, and Doon,--Ayrshire streams over which he breathes a sigh as being unnamed in song; and surely his own attempts to make them known were as successful as his heart could desire.--I. F.]

"There!" said a Stripling, pointing with meet pride
Towards a low roof with green trees half concealed,
"Is Mosgiel Farm; and that's the very field
Where Burns ploughed up the Daisy."[933] Far and wide
A plain below stretched seaward, while, descried 5
Above sea-clouds, the Peaks of Arran rose;
And, by that simple notice, the repose
Of earth, sky, sea, and air, was vivified.
Beneath "the random _bield_ of clod or stone"
Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower 10
Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour
Have passed away; less happy than the One
That, by the unwilling ploughshare, died to prove
The tender charm of poetry and love.

FOOTNOTES:

[933] See Burns's poem _To a Mountain Daisy_, or as it was originally called, _The Gowan_.--ED.

XXXVIII

THE RIVER EDEN, CUMBERLAND

["Nature gives thee flowers
That have no rivals among British bowers."

This can scarcely be true to the letter; but, without stretching the point at all, I can say that the soil and air appear more congenial with many upon the banks of this river than I have observed in any other parts of Great Britain.--I. F.]

Eden! till now thy beauty had I viewed
By glimpses only, and confess with shame
That verse of mine, whate'er its varying mood,
Repeats but once the sound of thy sweet name:[934]
Yet fetched from Paradise[935] that honour came, 5
Rightfully borne; for Nature gives thee flowers
That have no rivals among British bowers;
And thy bold rocks are worthy of their fame.[936]
Measuring thy course, fair Stream! at length I pay[937]
To my life's neighbour dues of neighbourhood; 10
But I have traced thee on thy winding way[938]
With pleasure sometimes by this thought restrained
For things far off we toil, while many a good[939]
Not sought, because too near, is never gained.[940]

FOOTNOTES:

[934] 1835.

Full long thy beauty, Eden, had I viewed,
By glimpses only ...

MS.

Eden! the Muse has wronged thee, be the shame
Frankly acknowledged, in no careless mood
Of memory, my verse have I reviewed
And met but once the sound of thy sweet name:

MS.

[935] It is to be feared that there is more of the poet than the sound etymologist in this derivation of the Eden. On the western coast of Cumberland is a rivulet which enters the sea at Moresby, known also in the neighbourhood by the name of Eden. May not the latter syllable come from the word Dean, _a valley_? Langdale, near Ambleside, is by the inhabitants called Langden. The former syllable occurs in the name Emont, a principal feeder of the Eden; and the stream which flows, when the tide is out, over Cartmel Sands, is called the Ea--French, eau--Latin, aqua.--W. W. 1835.

[936] Especially on the upper reaches of the river, as seen from the Midland Railway line beyond Appleby.--ED.

[937] 1835.

Bright are the hours that prompt me now to pay

MS.

[938] 1835.

Thee have I traced along thy winding way

MS.

[939] 1845.

... by the thought restrained
That things far off are toiled for, while a good 1835.

That for things far off we toil, while many a good 1840.

[940] 1840.

... is seldom gained 1835 and

MS.

XXXIX

MONUMENT OF MRS. HOWARD

(by Nollekens)

IN WETHERAL CHURCH, NEAR COREY, ON THE BANKS OF THE EDEN

[Before this monument was put up in the Church at Wetheral, I saw it in the sculptor's studio. Nollekens, who, by-the-bye, was a strange and grotesque figure that interfered much with one's admiration of his works, showed me at the same time the various models in clay which he had made, one after another, of the Mother and her Infant: the improvement on each was surprising; and how so much grace, beauty, and tenderness had come out of such a head I was sadly puzzled to conceive. Upon a window-seat in his parlour lay two casts of faces, one of the Duchess of Devonshire, so noted in her day; and the other of Mr. Pitt, taken after his death, a ghastly resemblance, as these things always are, even when taken from the living subject, and more ghastly in this instance from the peculiarity of the features. The heedless and apparently neglectful manner in which the faces of these two persons were left--the one so distinguished in London society, and the other upon whose counsels and public conduct, during a most momentous period, depended the fate of this great Empire and perhaps of all Europe--afforded a lesson to which the dullest of casual visitors could scarcely be insensible. It touched me the more because I had so often seen Mr. Pitt upon his own ground at Cambridge and upon the floor of the House of Commons.--I. F.]

Stretched on the dying Mother's lap, lies dead
Her new-born Babe; dire ending[941] of bright hope!
But Sculpture here, with the divinest scope
Of luminous faith, heavenward hath raised that head
So patiently; and through one hand has spread 5
A touch so tender for the insensate Child--
(Earth's lingering love to parting reconciled,
Brief parting, for the spirit is all but fled)--
That we, who contemplate the turns of life
Through this still medium, are consoled and cheered;
Feel with the Mother, think the severed Wife 11
Is less to be lamented than revered;
And own that Art, triumphant over strife
And pain, hath powers to Eternity endeared.

FOOTNOTES:

[941] 1845.

... issue ... 1835.

XL

SUGGESTED BY THE FOREGOING[942]

Tranquillity! the sovereign aim wert thou
In heathen schools of philosophic lore;[943]
Heart-stricken by stern destiny of yore
The Tragic Muse thee served with thoughtful vow;
And what of hope Elysium could allow 5
Was fondly seized by Sculpture, to restore
Peace to the Mourner. But when He who wore[944]
The crown of thorns around his bleeding brow
Warmed our sad being with celestial light,[945]
_Then_ Arts which still had drawn a softening grace 10
From shadowy fountains of the Infinite,
Communed with that Idea face to face:
And move around it now as planets run,
Each in its orbit round the central Sun.

FOOTNOTES:

[942] In the edition of 1835 there is no title to this sonnet.

[943] #Ataraxia#, was the aim of Stoic, Epicurean, and Sceptic alike.--ED.

[944] 1840.

Peace to the Mourner's soul; but He who wore 1835.

[945] 1840.

... with his glorious light: 1835.

Round our sad being shed celestial light, C.

XLI

NUNNERY[946]

[I became acquainted with the walks of Nunnery when a boy: they are within easy reach of a day's pleasant excursion from the town of Penrith, where I used to pass my summer holidays under the roof of my maternal Grandfather. The place is well worth visiting; though, within these few years, its privacy, and therefore the pleasure which the scene is so well fitted to give, has been injuriously affected by walks cut in the rocks on that side the stream which had been left in its natural state.--I. F.]

The floods are roused, and will not soon be weary;
Down from the Pennine Alps[947] how fiercely sweeps
Croglin, the stately Eden's tributary![948]
He raves, or through some moody passage creeps
Plotting new mischief--out again he leaps 5
Into broad light, and sends, through regions airy,[949]
That voice which soothed the Nuns while on the steeps
They knelt in prayer, or sang to blissful Mary.[950]
That union ceased: then, cleaving easy walks
Through crags, and smoothing paths beset with danger,
Came studious Taste; and many a pensive stranger 11
Dreams on the banks, and to the river talks.
What change shall happen next to Nunnery Dell?[951]
Canal, and Viaduct, and Railway, tell![952]

FOOTNOTES:

[946] Nunnery; so named from the House for Benedictine Nuns established by William Rufus.--ED.

[947] The chain of Crossfell[953]--W. W. 1835.

[948] The two streams of the Croglin and the Eden unite in the grounds of Nunnery.--ED.

[949] 1835.

Seeking in vain broad light, and regions aery.

MS.

[950] 1835.

But with that voice which once high on his steeps
Mingled with vespers, sung to blissful Mary--

MS.

[951] 1835.

... to Croglin Dell?

MS.

[952] At Corby, a few miles below Nunnery, the Eden is crossed by a magnificent viaduct; and another of these works is thrown over a deep glen or ravine at a very short distance from the main stream.--W. W. 1835.

[953] 1845.

which parts Cumberland and Westmoreland from Northumberland
and Durham. 1835.

XLII

STEAMBOATS, VIADUCTS, AND RAILWAYS

Motions and Means, on land and sea[954] at war
With old poetic feeling, not for this,
Shall ye, by Poets even, be judged amiss!
Nor shall your presence, howsoe'er it mar
The loveliness of Nature, prove a bar 5
To the Mind's gaining that prophetic sense
Of future change, that point of vision, whence
May be discovered what in soul ye are.
In spite of all that beauty may disown
In your harsh features, Nature doth embrace 10
Her lawful offspring in Man's art; and Time,
Pleased with your triumphs o'er his brother Space,
Accepts from your bold hands the proffered crown
Of hope, and smiles on you with cheer sublime.[955]

FOOTNOTES:

[954] 1835.

... on sea or land ...

Version in _The Morning Post_.

[955] Compare the Sonnet _On the Projected Kendal and Windermere Railway_, written in 1844.--ED.

XLIII

THE MONUMENT COMMONLY CALLED LONG MEG AND HER DAUGHTERS, NEAR THE RIVER EDEN[956]

Composed, _probably_, in 1821.--Published 1822

A weight of awe, not easy to be borne,
Fell suddenly upon my Spirit--cast
From the dread bosom of the unknown past,
When first I saw that family forlorn.[957]
Speak Thou, whose massy strength and stature scorn[958]
The power of years--pre-eminent, and placed 6
Apart, to overlook the circle vast--
Speak, Giant-mother! tell it to the Morn
While she dispels the cumbrous shades of Night;
Let the Moon hear, emerging from a cloud; 10
At whose behest uprose on British ground
That Sisterhood, in hieroglyphic round
Forth-shadowing, some have deemed, the infinite
The inviolable God, that tames the proud![959][960]

FOOTNOTES:

[956] It first appeared in _A Description of the Scenery of the Lakes in the North of England_, third edition, 1822.--ED.

[957] 1837.

....that Sisterhood forlorn. 1822.

[958] 1837.

And him, whose strength and stature seems to scorn 1822.

[959] The daughters of Long Meg, placed in a perfect circle eighty yards in diameter, are seventy-two in number above ground; a little way out of the circle stands Long Meg herself, a single stone, eighteen feet high. When I first saw this monument, as I came upon it by surprise, I might over-rate its importance as an object; but, though it will not bear a comparison with Stonehenge, I must say, I have not seen any other relique of those dark ages, which can pretend to rival it in singularity and dignity of appearance.--W. W. 1837.

The text of this note, in the edition of 1822, is slightly different.--ED.

In a letter to Sir George Beaumont, January 6, 1821, Wordsworth wrote, "My road brought me suddenly and unexpectedly upon that ancient monument, called by the country people Long Meg and her Daughters. Everybody has heard of it, and so had I from very early childhood; but had never seen it before. Next to Stonehenge it is beyond dispute the most noble relic of the kind that this or probably any other country contains. Long Meg is a single block of unhewn stone, eighteen feet high, at a small distance from a vast circle of other stones, some of them of huge size, though curtailed of their stature, by their own incessant pressure upon it." Compare a note in Wordsworth's _Guide to the Scenery of the Lakes_, section 2.--ED.

[960] 1837.

When, how, and wherefore, rose on British ground
That wondrous Monument, whose mystic round
Forth shadows, some have deemed, to mortal sight
The inviolable God that tames the proud! 1822.

XLIV

LOWTHER[961]

["Cathedral pomp." It may be questioned whether this union was in the contemplation of the artist when he planned the edifice. However this might be, a poet may be excused for taking the view of the subject presented in this Sonnet.--I. F.]

Lowther! in thy majestic Pile are seen[962]
Cathedral pomp and grace, in apt accord[963]
With the baronial castle's sterner mien;[964]
Union significant of God adored,
And charters won and guarded by the sword 5
Of ancient honour; whence that goodly state
Of polity which wise men venerate,[965]
And will maintain, if God his help afford.
Hourly the democratic torrent swells;[966]
For airy promises and hopes suborned 10
The strength of backward-looking thoughts is scorned.
Fall if ye must, ye Towers and Pinnacles,
With what ye symbolise; authentic Story
Will say, Ye disappeared with England's Glory!

FOOTNOTES:

[961] There was no title in the edition of 1835.

[962] 1835.

... in thy magnificence are seen

MS.

[963] 1835.

Shapes of cathedral pomp that well accord

MS.

[964] The present Castle was begun in 1808. It is in the style of the 13th and 14th century structures. The arched corridors surrounding the staircase--which is sixty feet square and ninety feet high--may justify the description in the sonnet. These stone corridors open on each side, through the centre of the castle. Compare the reference to Lowther in Barren's _Travels in China_, p. 134, in the course of his description of "Gehol's matchless gardens," referred to in _The Prelude_, book viii. (vol. iii. p. 274.)--ED.

[965] The Lowther family have been, for generations, the representatives of the Conservative cause in Cumberland.--ED.

[966] 1835.

But high the democratic torrent swells.

MS.

XLV

TO THE EARL OF LONSDALE

"Magistratus indicat virum."

Lonsdale! it were unworthy of a Guest,
Whose heart with gratitude to thee inclines,
If he should speak, by fancy touched, of signs
On thy Abode harmoniously imprest,
Yet be unmoved with wishes to attest 5
How in thy mind and moral frame agree
Fortitude, and that Christian Charity
Which, filling, consecrates the human breast.
And if the Motto on thy 'scutcheon teach
With truth, "THE MAGISTRACY SHOWS THE MAN;"
_That_ searching test thy public course has stood;[967] 11
As will be owned alike by bad and good,
Soon as the measuring of life's little span
Shall place thy virtues out of Envy's reach.[968]

FOOTNOTES:

[967] 1835.

Lonsdale! it were unworthy of a Guest,
One chiefly well aware how much he owes
To thy regard, to speak in verse or prose
Of types and signs harmoniously imprest
On thy Abode, neglecting to attest
That in thy Mansion's Lord as well agree
Meekness and strength and Christian charity,
That filling, consecrates the human breast.
And if, as thy armorial bearings teach,
"The Magistracy indicates the Man,"
That test thy life triumphantly has stood;

MS.

[968] This sonnet was written immediately after certain trials, which took place at the Cumberland Assizes, when the Earl of Lonsdale, in consequence of repeated and long-continued attacks upon his character, through the local press, had thought it right to prosecute the conductors and proprietors of three several journals. A verdict of libel was given in one case; and, in the others, the prosecutions were withdrawn, upon the individuals retracting and disavowing the charges, expressing regret that they had been made, and promising to abstain from the like in future.--W. W. 1835.

XLVI

THE SOMNAMBULIST[969]

[This poem might be dedicated to my friends, Sir G. Beaumont and Mr. Rogers jointly. While we were making an excursion together in this part of the Lake District we heard that Mr. Glover, the artist, while lodging at Lyulph's Tower, had been disturbed by a loud shriek, and upon rising he had learnt that it had come from a young woman in the house who was in the habit of walking in her sleep. In that state she had gone down stairs, and, while attempting to open the outer door, either from some difficulty or the effect of the cold stone upon her feet, had uttered the cry which alarmed him. It seemed to us all that this might serve as a hint for a poem, and the story here told was constructed and soon after put into verse by me as it now stands.--I. F.]

List, ye who pass by Lyulph's Tower[970][971]
At eve; how softly then
Doth Aira-force, that torrent hoarse,
Speak from the woody glen![972]
Fit music for a solemn vale! 5
And holier seems the ground[973]
To him who catches[974] on the gale
The spirit of a mournful tale,
Embodied in the sound.

Not far from that fair site whereon 10
The Pleasure-house is reared,
As story says, in antique days
A stern-brow'd house appeared;
Foil to a Jewel rich in light
There set, and guarded well; 15
Cage for a Bird of plumage bright,
Sweet-voiced, nor wishing for a flight
Beyond her native dell.

To win this bright Bird from her cage,
To make this Gem their own, 20
Came Barons bold, with store of gold,
And Knights of high renown;
But one She prized, and only one;
Sir Eglamore was he;
Full happy season, when was known, 25
Ye Dales and Hills! to you alone
Their mutual loyalty--[975]

Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,
Thy brook, and bowers of holly;
Where Passion caught what Nature taught, 30
That all but love is folly;
Where Fact with Fancy stooped to play;
Doubt came not, nor regret--
To trouble hours that winged their way,
As if through an immortal day 35
Whose sun could never set.

But in old times[976] Love dwelt not long
Sequester'd with repose;
Best throve the fire of chaste desire,
Fanned by the breath of foes. 40
"A conquering lance is beauty's test,
And proves the Lover true;"
So spake Sir Eglamore, and pressed
The drooping Emma[977] to his breast,
And looked a blind adieu. 45

They parted.--Well with him it fared
Through wide-spread regions errant;
A knight of proof in love's behoof,
The thirst of fame his warrant:
And She her happiness[978] can build 50
On woman's quiet hours;
Though faint, compared with spear and shield,
The solace beads and masses yield,
And needlework and flowers.

Yet blest was Emma[979] when she heard 55
Her Champion's praise recounted;
Though brain would swim, and eyes grow dim,
And high her blushes mounted;
Or when a bold heroic lay
She warbled from full heart; 60
Delightful blossoms for the _May_
Of absence! but they will not stay,
Born only to depart.

Hope wanes with her, while lustre fills
Whatever path he chooses; 65
As if his orb, that owns no curb,
Received the light hers loses.
He comes not back; an ampler space
Requires for nobler deeds;
He ranges on from place to place, 70
Till of his doings is no trace,
But what her fancy breeds.

His fame may spread, but in the past
Her spirit finds its centre;
Clear sight She has of what he was, 75
And that would now content her.
"Still is he my devoted Knight?"
The tear in answer flows;
Month falls on month with heavier weight;
Day sickens round her, and the night 80
Is empty of repose.

In sleep She sometimes walked abroad,
Deep sighs with quick words blending,
Like that pale Queen whose hands are seen
With fancied spots contending;[980] 85
But _she_ is innocent of blood,--
The moon is not more pure
That shines aloft, while through the wood
She thrids her way, the sounding Flood
Her melancholy lure! 90

While 'mid the fern-brake sleeps the doe,
And owls alone are waking,
In white arrayed, glides on the Maid
The downward pathway taking,
That leads her to the torrent's side 95
And to a holly bower;
By whom on this still night descried?
By whom in that lone place espied?
By thee, Sir Eglamore![981]

A wandering Ghost, so thinks the Knight, 100
His coming step has thwarted,
Beneath the boughs that heard their vows,
Within whose shade they parted.
Hush, hush, the busy Sleeper see!
Perplexed her fingers seem, 105
As if they from the holly tree
Green twigs would pluck, as rapidly
Flung from her to the stream.

What means the Spectre? Why intent
To violate the Tree, 110
Thought Eglamore, by which I swore
Unfading constancy?
Here am I, and to-morrow's sun,
To her I left, shall prove
That bliss is ne'er so surely won 115
As when a circuit has been run
Of valour, truth, and love.

So from the spot whereon he stood,
He moved with stealthy pace;
And, drawing nigh, with his living eye,[982] 120
He recognised the face;
And whispers caught, and speeches small,
Some to the green-leaved tree,
Some muttered to the torrent-fall;--
"Roar on, and bring him with thy call; 125
I heard, and so may He!"

Soul-shattered was the Knight, nor knew
If Emma's Ghost[983] it were,
Or boding Shade, or if the Maid
Her very self stood there. 130
He touched; what followed who shall tell?
The soft touch snapped the thread
Of slumber--shrieking back she fell,
And the Stream whirled her down the dell
Along its foaming bed. 135

In plunged the Knight!--when on firm ground
The rescued Maiden lay,
Her eyes grew bright with blissful light,
Confusion passed away;
She heard, ere to the throne of grace 140
Her faithful Spirit flew,
His voice--beheld his speaking face;
And, dying, from his own embrace,
She felt that he was true.

So was he reconciled to life: 145
Brief words may speak the rest;[984]
Within the dell he built a cell,
And there was Sorrow's guest;
In hermits' weeds repose he found,
From vain temptations[985] free;[986] 150
Beside the torrent dwelling--bound
By one deep heart-controlling sound,
And awed to piety.

Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course,
Nor fear memorial lays, 155
Where clouds that spread in solemn shade,
Are edged with golden rays!
Dear art thou to the light of heaven,
Though minister of sorrow;
Sweet is thy voice at pensive even; 160
And thou, in lovers' hearts forgiven,
Shalt take thy place with Yarrow!

This poem was translated into Latin verse by the poet's son, and published in the second edition of _Yarrow Revisited, and other Poems_, 1835.--ED.

FOOTNOTES:

[969] The original title of the Poem (in MS.) was

_Aira Force,_
_or_
_Sir Eglamore and Elva._

There were no changes of text in the published editions of this poem. The various readings given are from MS. copies of the poem, in Mrs. Wordsworth's handwriting.--ED.

[970] 1835.

'Tis sweet to stand by Lyulph's Tower

MS.

[971] A pleasure-house built by the late Duke of Norfolk upon the banks of Ullswater. FORCE is the word used in the Lake District for Waterfall.--W. W. 1835.

[972] Compare _Airey-Force Valley_--

the brook itself,
Old as the hills that feed it from afar,
Doth rather deepen than disturb the calm, etc.--ED.

[973] 1835.

To rudest shepherd of the vale
The spot seems holy ground;

MS.

[974] 1835.

For he can catch....

MS.

[975] 1835.

Their true love's sanctity--

MS.

[976] 1835.

But in that age ...

MS.

[977] 1835.

... Elva ...

MS.

[978] 1835.

She, too, a happiness ...

MS.

[979] 1835.

... Elva ...

MS.

[980] See _Macbeth_, act IV. scene V.--ED.

[981] 1835.

The knight, Sir Eglamore.

MS.

[982] 1835.

... with living eye,

MS.

[983] 1835.

If Elva's Ghost ...

MS.

[984] 1835.

In plunged the Knight--he strove in vain.
Brief words may speak the rest;

MS.

[985] 1835.

... temptation ...

MS.

[986] Compare the _Ode to Duty_, vol. iii. p. 37:--

From vain temptations dost set free--ED.

XLVII

TO CORDELIA M----[987]

HALLSTEADS, ULLSWATER

Not in the mines beyond the western main,
You say, Cordelia,[988] was the metal sought,
Which a fine skill, of Indian growth, has wrought
Into this flexible yet faithful Chain;
Nor is it silver of romantic Spain 5
But from our loved Helvellyn's[989] depths was brought,
Our own domestic mountain. Thing and thought
Mix strangely; trifles light, and partly vain,
Can prop, as you have learnt, our nobler being:
Yes, Lady, while about your neck is wound 10
(Your casual glance oft meeting) this bright cord,
What witchery, for pure gifts of inward seeing,
Lurks in it, Memory's Helper, Fancy's Lord,
For precious tremblings in your bosom found!

FOOTNOTES:

[987] Cordelia Marshall.--ED.

[988] 1845.

You tell me, Delia!... 1835.

[989] 1845.

You say but from Helvellyn's ... 1835.

XLVIII

"MOST SWEET IT IS WITH UNUPLIFTED EYES"[990]

Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes
To pace the ground, if path be there or none,
While a fair region round the traveller lies[991]
Which he forbears again to look upon;
Pleased rather with some soft ideal scene, 5
The work of Fancy, or some happy tone
Of meditation, slipping in between
The beauty coming and the beauty gone.[992]
If Thought and Love desert us, from that day
Let us break off all commerce with the Muse: 10
With Thought and Love companions of our way,
Whate'er the senses take or may refuse,
The Mind's internal heaven shall shed her dews
Of inspiration on the humblest lay.

FOOTNOTES:

[990] The title to this sonnet, in the editions previous to 1845, was _Conclusion_.

[991] 1835.

While round the conscious traveller beauty lies

MS.

[992] 1835.

Pleased rather with that soothing after-tone
Whose seat is in the mind, occasion's Queen!
Else Nature's noblest objects were I ween
A yoke endured, a penance undergone.

MS.

1834

The Poems of 1834 include four of the _Evening Voluntaries_, _The Labourer's Noon-day Hymn_, and the stanzas to _The Redbreast_.--ED.

"NOT IN THE LUCID INTERVALS OF LIFE"

Composed 1834.--Published 1835

[The lines following "nor do words" were written with Lord Byron's character as a poet before me, and that of others his contemporaries who wrote under like influences.--I. F.]

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

Not in the lucid intervals of life
That come but as a curse to party-strife;
Not in some hour when Pleasure with a sigh
Of languor puts his rosy garland by;
Not in the breathing-times of that poor slave 5
Who daily piles up wealth in Mammon's cave--
Is Nature felt, or can be; nor do words,
Which practised talent[993] readily affords,
Prove that her hand has touched responsive chords;
Nor has her gentle beauty power to move 10
With genuine rapture and with fervent love
The soul of Genius, if he dare[994] to take
Life's rule from passion craved for passion's sake;
Untaught that meekness is the cherished bent
Of all the truly great and all the innocent. 15

But who _is_ innocent? By grace divine,
Not otherwise, O Nature! we are thine,
Through good and evil thine, in just degree
Of rational and manly sympathy. 19
To all that Earth from pensive hearts is stealing,
And Heaven is now to gladdened eyes revealing,
Add every charm the Universe can show
Through every change its aspects undergo--
Care may be respited, but not repealed;
No perfect cure grows on that bounded field. 25
Vain is the pleasure, a false calm the peace,
If He, through whom alone our conflicts cease,
Our virtuous hopes without relapse advance,
Come not to speed the Soul's deliverance;
To the distempered Intellect refuse 30
His gracious help, or give what we abuse.

FOOTNOTES:

[993] See the Fenwick note.--ED.

[994] 1837.

... dares ... 1835.

BY THE SIDE OF RYDAL MERE

Composed 1834.--Published 1835

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

The linnet's warble, sinking towards a close,
Hints to the thrush 'tis time for their repose;
The shrill-voiced thrush is heedless, and again
The monitor revives his own sweet strain;
But both will soon be mastered, and the copse 5
Be left as silent as the mountain-tops,
Ere some commanding star[995] dismiss to rest
The throng of rooks, that now, from twig or nest,
(After a steady flight on home-bound wings,
And a last game of mazy hoverings 10
Around their ancient grove) with cawing noise
Disturb the liquid music's equipoise.

O Nightingale! Who ever heard thy song
Might here be moved, till Fancy grows so strong
That listening sense is pardonably cheated 15
Where wood or stream by thee was never greeted.[996]
Surely, from fairest spots of favoured lands,
Were not some gifts withheld by jealous hands,
This hour of deepening darkness here would be
As a fresh morning for new harmony; 20
And lays as prompt would hail the dawn of Night:
A _dawn_ she has both beautiful and bright,
When the East kindles with the full moon's light;[997]
Not like the rising sun's impatient glow
Dazzling the mountains, but an overflow 25
Of solemn splendour, in mutation slow.

Wanderer by spring with gradual progress led,
For sway profoundly felt as widely spread;
To king, to peasant, to rough sailor, dear,
And to the soldier's trumpet-wearied ear; 30
How welcome wouldst thou be to this green Vale
Fairer than Tempe![998] Yet, sweet Nightingale!
From the warm breeze that bears thee on, alight
At will, and stay thy migratory flight;
Build, at thy choice, or sing, by pool or fount, 35
Who shall complain, or call thee to account?
The wisest, happiest, of our kind are they
That ever walk content with Nature's way,
God's goodness--measuring bounty as it may;
For whom the gravest thought of what they miss, 40
Chastening the fulness of a present bliss,
Is with that wholesome office satisfied,
While unrepining sadness is allied
In thankful bosoms to a modest pride.

FOOTNOTES:

[995] Compare the _Lines, composed at Grasmere_ in 1806 (vol iv. p. 48), when Mr. Fox's death was hourly expected--

Yon star upon the mountain-top
Is listening quietly.--ED.

[996] The nightingale is not usually heard in England farther north than the valley of the Trent.

Compare _The Excursion_, book iv. l. 1167 (vol. v. p. 188); also the lines (vol. iv, p. 67) beginning--

O Nightingale! thou surely art
A creature of a "fiery heart."--ED.

[997] 1837.

... moon's light.
Wanderer by ... 1835.

[998] The Thessalian valley, five miles long, from Olympus to Ossa, through which the Peneus makes its way to the Ægean sea.--ED.

"SOFT AS A CLOUD IS YON BLUE RIDGE--THE MERE"

Composed 1834.--Published 1835

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

Soft as a cloud is yon blue Ridge--the Mere[999]
Seems firm as solid crystal, breathless, clear,
And motionless; and, to the gazer's eye,
Deeper than ocean, in the immensity
Of its vague mountains and unreal sky! 5
But, from the process in that still retreat,
Turn to minuter changes at our feet;
Observe how dewy Twilight has withdrawn
The crowd of daisies from the shaven lawn,
And has restored to view its tender green, 10
That, while the sun rode high, was lost beneath their dazzling sheen.
--An emblem this of what the sober Hour
Can do for minds disposed to feel its power!
Thus oft, when we in vain have wish'd away
The petty pleasures of the garish day, 15
Meek eve shuts up the whole usurping host
(Unbashful dwarfs each glittering at his post)
And leaves the disencumbered spirit free
To reassume a staid simplicity.

'Tis well--but what are helps of time and place, 20
When wisdom stands in need of nature's grace;
Why do good thoughts, invoked or not, descend,
Like Angels from their bowers, our virtues to befriend;
If yet To-morrow, unbelied, may say,
"I come to open out, for fresh display, 25
The elastic vanities of yesterday?"

FOOTNOTES:

[999] The "mere" was probably Rydal, and the "ridge" that of Silver How.--ED.

"THE LEAVES THAT RUSTLED ON THIS OAK-CROWNED HILL"

Composed 1834.--Published 1835

[Composed by the side of Grasmere lake. The mountains that enclose the vale, especially towards Easdale, are most favorable to the reverberation of sound. There is a passage in _The Excursion_ towards the close of the fourth book, where the voice of the raven in flight is traced through the modifications it undergoes, as I have often heard it in that vale and others of this district.[1000]

"Often, at the hour
When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard,
Within the circuit of this fabric huge,
One voice--the solitary raven."--I. F.]

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

The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned hill,
And sky that danced among those leaves, are still;
Rest smooths the way for sleep; in field and bower
Soft shades and dews have shed their blended power
On drooping eyelid and the closing flower; 5
Sound is there none at which the faintest heart
Might leap, the weakest nerve of superstition start;
Save when the Owlet's unexpected scream
Pierces the ethereal vault; and ('mid the gleam
Of unsubstantial imagery, the dream, 10
From the hushed vale's realities, transferred
To the still lake) the imaginative Bird
Seems, 'mid inverted mountains, not unheard.

Grave Creature!--whether, while the moon shines bright
On thy wings opened wide for smoothest flight, 15
Thou art discovered in a roofless tower,
Rising from what may once have been a lady's bower;
Or spied where thou sitt'st moping in thy mew
At the dim centre of a churchyard yew;
Or, from a rifted crag or ivy tod 20
Deep in a forest, thy secure abode,
Thou giv'st, for pastime's sake, by shriek or shout,
A puzzling notice of thy whereabout--
May the night never come, nor[1001] day be seen,
When I shall scorn thy voice or mock thy mien! 25

In classic ages men perceived a soul
Of sapience in thy aspect, headless Owl!
Thee Athens reverenced in the studious grove;[1002]
And, near the golden sceptre grasped by Jove,
His Eagle's favourite perch, while round him sate 30
The Gods revolving the decrees of Fate,
Thou, too, wert present at Minerva's side:
Hark to that second larum!--far and wide
The elements have heard, and rock and cave replied.

FOOTNOTES:

[1000] See also the extract from Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, in the note to _The Excursion_ (vol. v. p. 189).--ED.

[1001] 1837.

... the ... 1835.

[1002] The owl became the emblem of Athens--and was associated with Minerva--because the birds abounded there.--ED.

THE LABOURER'S NOON-DAY HYMN

Composed 1834.--Published 1835

[Bishop Ken's Morning and Evening Hymns are, as they deserve to be, familiarly known. Many other hymns have also been written on the same subject; but, not being aware of any designed for noon-day, I was induced to compose these verses. Often one has occasion to observe cottage children carrying, in their baskets, dinner to their Fathers engaged with their daily labours in the fields and woods. How gratifying would it be to me could I be assured that any portion of these stanzas had been sung by such a domestic concert under such circumstances. A friend of mine has told me that she introduced this Hymn into a village-school which she superintended, and the stanzas in succession furnished her with texts to comment upon in a way which without difficulty was made intelligible to the children, and in which they obviously took delight, and they were taught to sing it to the tune of the old 100th Psalm.--I.F.]

One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--ED.

Up to the throne of God is borne
The voice of praise at early morn,
And he accepts the punctual hymn
Sung as the light of day grows dim.

Nor will he turn his ear aside 5
From holy offerings at noontide.
Then here reposing let us raise
A song of gratitude and praise.

What though our burthen be not light,
We need not toil from morn to night; 10
The respite of the mid-day hour
Is in the thankful Creature's power.

Blest are the moments, doubly blest,
That, drawn from this one hour of rest,
Are with a ready heart bestowed 15
Upon the service of our God!

Each field is then a hallowed spot,[1003]
An altar is in each man's cot,
A church in every grove that spreads
Its living roof above our heads. 20

Look up to Heaven! the industrious Sun
Already half his race hath run;
_He_ cannot halt nor go astray,
But our immortal Spirits may.

Lord! since his rising in the East, 25
If we have faltered or transgressed,
Guide, from thy love's abundant source,
What yet remains of this day's course:

Help with thy grace, through life's short day,
Our upward and our downward way; 30
And glorify for us the west,
When we shall sink to final rest.

FOOTNOTES:

[1003] 1845.

Why should we crave a hallowed spot? 1835.

THE REDBREAST

(SUGGESTED IN A WESTMORELAND COTTAGE)

Composed 1834.--Published 1835

[Written at Rydal Mount. All our cats having been banished the house, it was soon frequented by redbreasts. Two or three of them, when the window was open, would come in, particularly when Mrs. Wordsworth was breakfasting alone, and hop about the table picking up the crumbs. My sister being then confined to her room by sickness, as, dear creature, she still is, had one that, without being caged, took up its abode with her, and at night used to perch upon a nail from which a picture had hung. It used to sing and fan her face with its wings in a manner that was very touching.--I.F.]

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."--ED.

Driven in by Autumn's sharpening air
From half-stripped woods and pastures bare,
Brisk Robin seeks a kindlier home:
Not like a beggar is he come,
But enters as a looked-for guest, 5
Confiding in his ruddy breast,
As if it were a natural shield
Charged with a blazon on the field,
Due to that good and pious deed
Of which we in the Ballad read. 10
But pensive fancies putting by,
And wild-wood sorrows, speedily
He plays the expert ventriloquist;
And, caught by glimpses now--now missed,
Puzzles the listener with a doubt 15
If the soft voice he throws about
Comes from within doors or without!
Was ever such a sweet confusion,
Sustained by delicate illusion?
He's at your elbow--to your feeling 20
The notes are from the floor or ceiling;
And there's a riddle to be guessed,
'Till you have marked his heaving chest,
And busy throat whose sink and swell,[1004]
Betray the Elf that loves to dwell 25
In Robin's bosom, as a chosen cell.

Heart-pleased we smile upon the Bird
If seen, and with like pleasure stirred
Commend him, when he's only heard.
But small and fugitive our gain 30
Compared with _hers_[1005] who long hath lain,
With languid limbs and patient head
Reposing on a lone sick-bed;
Where now, she[1006] daily hears a strain
That cheats her[1007] of too busy cares, 35
Eases her pain, and helps her prayers.[1008]
And who but this dear Bird beguiled
The fever of that pale-faced Child;
Now cooling, with his passing wing,
Her forehead, like a breeze of Spring: 40
Recalling now, with descant soft
Shed round her pillow from aloft,
Sweet thoughts of angels hovering nigh,
And the invisible sympathy
Of "Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and John, 45
Blessing the bed she lies upon?"[1009]
And sometimes, just as listening ends
In slumber, with the cadence blends
A dream of that low-warbled hymn
Which old folk, fondly pleased to trim 50
Lamps of faith, now burning dim,
Say that the Cherubs carved in stone,
When clouds gave way at dead of night
And the ancient church was filled with light,[1010]
Used to sing in heavenly tone, 55
Above and round the sacred places
They guard, with winged baby-faces.

Thrice happy Creature! in all lands
Nurtured by hospitable hands:
Free entrance to this cot has he, 60
Entrance and exit both _yet_ free;
And, when the keen unruffled weather
That thus brings man and bird together,
Shall with its pleasantness be past,
And casement closed and door made fast, 65
To keep at bay the howling blast,
_He_ needs not fear the season's rage,
For the whole house is Robin's cage.
Whether the bird flit here or there,
O'er table _lilt_, or perch on chair, 70
Though some may frown and make a stir,
To scare him as a trespasser,
And he belike will flinch or start,
Good friends he has to take his part;
One chiefly, who with voice and look 75
Pleads for him from the chimney-nook,
Where sits the Dame, and wears away
Her long and vacant holiday;
With images about her heart,
Reflected from the years gone by, 80
On human nature's second infancy.

FOOTNOTES:

[1004] 1836.

... breast,
Where tiny sinking, and faint swell, 1835.

[1005] 1845.

... _his_ ... 1835.

[1006] 1845.

... he ... 1835.

[1007] 1845.

... him ... 1835.

[1008] 1845.

Eases his pain, and helps his prayers. 1835.

[1009] The words--

"Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and John,
Bless the bed that I lie on,"

are part of a child's prayer, still in general use through the northern counties.--W. W. 1835.

[1010] 1836.

And the moon filled the church with light, 1835.

ADDENDA

(1) p. 35. _How soon--alas! etc._

The following version is written in the late Lord Coleridge's
copy of the Poems:--

Alas! full soon did man created pure,
By Angels guarded, deviate from the line
Of innocence, and woeful forfeiture
Incur by wilful breach of law divine.
Even so Christ's church, how prone was she to appear
Obedient to her Lord, how prompt to twine
'Mid glorious flowers that shall for aye endure,
Weeds on whose front the world hath fixed her sign.
So Man, if with thy trials thus it fares,
And good can smooth the way to evil choice,
From hasty censure be the mind kept free.
He only judges right who weighs, compares,
And in the sternest sentence, which his voice
May utter, ne'er abandons Charity.

C.

(2) p. 83. _Down a swift stream, etc._, l. 14--

The manifold aspects of our sacred theme.

C.

(3) p. 86. _Bishops and Priests_, _etc._, l. 1--

... how blessed ...

C.

(4) p. 160, footnote [448]--

The extract is from _The Shepherd and the Calm_, p. 113, in
_Miscellany Poems on Several Occasions, written by a Lady,
Anne Finch, Countesse of W._, 1713.

(5) p. 306. _Fancy and Tradition_, l. 4--

Ere he took flight; the Sage in this alcove

MS.

(6) p. 307. _Fancy and Tradition_, l. 12--

There is an ampler page from which to quote,

MS.

(7) p. 342. _Adieu, Rydalian Laurels_, _etc._, l. 2--

As if not ignorant that days would come

MS.

(8) p. 358. _Stanzas suggested in a Steam-boat_, ll. 156-9--

Would merge, Idolatress of formal skill,
In her own systems, God's eternal will,
To her, despising faith in things unseen,
Matter and spirit are in one machine.

C.

END OF VOL. VII

_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.

Transcriber's Notes:

Simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors were
corrected.

Punctuation normalized.

Anachronistic and non-standard spellings retained as printed.

Italics markup is enclosed in _underscores_.

Greek text is transliterated and enclosed in #number symbols#.

Dagger symbol is denoted as [dagger].