Chapter VI: Conclusion (2)

----Not a breath of air
Ruffles the bosom of this leafy glen.
From the brook’s margin, wide around, the trees
Are stedfast as the rocks; the brook itself,
Old as the hills that feed it from afar, 5
Doth rather deepen than disturb the calm
Where all things else are still and motionless.
And yet, even now, a little breeze, perchance
Escaped from boisterous winds that rage without,
Has entered, by the sturdy oaks unfelt, 10
But to its gentle touch how sensitive
Is the light ash! that, pendent from the brow
Of yon dim cave,[253] in seeming silence makes
A soft eye-music of slow-waving boughs,
Powerful almost as vocal harmony 15
To stay the wanderer’s steps and soothe his thoughts.

The Aira beck rises on the slopes of Great Dodd, passes Dockray, and enters Ullswater between Glencoin Park and Gowbarrow Park, about two miles from the head of the lake. The Force is quite near to _Lyulph’s Tower_, where the stream has a fall of about eighty feet. Compare the reference to it in _The Somnambulist_ (1833), and Wordsworth’s account of “Aira-Force,” in his _Guide through the District of the Lakes_, “Here is a powerful Brook, which dashes among rocks through a deep glen, hung on every side with a rich and happy intermixture of native wood; here are beds of luxuriant fern, aged hawthorns and hollies decked with honeysuckles; and fallow deer glancing and bounding over the lawns and through the thickets.”--ED.

[253] An ash-tree may still be seen at Aira-Force.--ED.

“LYRE! THOUGH SUCH POWER DO IN THY MAGIC LIVE”

Composed 1842 (or earlier).--Published 1842

One of the “Poems of the Imagination.”--ED.

Lyre! though such power do in thy magic live
As might from India’s farthest plain
Recal the not unwilling Maid,
Assist me to detain
The lovely Fugitive: 5
Check with thy notes the impulse which, betrayed
By her sweet farewell looks, I longed to aid.
Here let me gaze enrapt upon that eye,
The impregnable and awe-inspiring fort
Of contemplation, the calm port 10
By reason fenced from winds that sigh
Among the restless sails of vanity.
But if no wish be hers that we should part,
A humbler bliss would satisfy my heart.
Where all things are so fair, 15
Enough by her dear side to breathe the air
Of this Elysian weather;
And, on or in, or near, the brook, espy
Shade upon the sunshine lying
Faint and somewhat pensively; 20
And downward Image gaily vying
With its upright living tree
’Mid silver clouds, and openings of blue sky
As soft almost and deep as her cerulean eye.

Nor less the joy with many a glance 25
Cast up the Stream or down at her beseeching,
To mark its eddying foam-balls prettily distrest
By ever-changing shape and want of rest;
Or watch, with mutual teaching,
The current as it plays 30
In flashing leaps and stealthy creeps
Adown a rocky maze;
Or note (translucent summer’s happiest chance!)
In the slope-channel floored with pebbles bright,
Stones of all hues, gem emulous of gem, 35
So vivid that they take from keenest sight
The liquid veil that seeks not to hide them.[254]

[254] Compare Wordsworth’s description of the Duddon as “diaphanous, because it travels slowly,”--ED.

LOVE LIES BLEEDING

Composed 1842.--Published 1842

[It has been said that the English, though their country has produced so many great poets, is now the most unpoetical nation in Europe. It is probably true; for they have more temptation to become so than any other European people. Trade, commerce, and manufactures, physical science, and mechanic arts, out of which so much wealth has arisen, have made our countrymen infinitely less sensible to movements of imagination and fancy than were our forefathers in their simple state of society. How touching and beautiful were, in most instances, the names they gave to our indigenous flowers, or any other they were familiarly acquainted with!--Every month for many years have we been importing plants and flowers from all quarters of the globe, many of which are spread through our gardens, and some perhaps likely to be met with on the few Commons which we have left. Will their botanical names ever be displaced by plain English appellations, which will bring them home to our hearts by connexion with our joys and sorrows? It can never be, unless society treads back her steps towards those simplicities which have been banished by the undue influence of towns spreading and spreading in every direction, so that city-life with every generation takes more and more the lead of rural. Among the ancients, villages were reckoned the seats of barbarism. Refinement, for the most part false, increases the desire to accumulate wealth; and while theories of political economy are boastfully pleading for the practice, inhumanity pervades all our dealings in buying and selling. This selfishness wars against disinterested imagination in all directions, and, evils coming round in a circle, barbarism spreads in every quarter of our island. Oh for the reign of justice, and then the humblest man among us would have more power and dignity in and about him than the highest have now!--I.F.]

One of the “Poems of the Fancy.”--ED.

You call it, “Love lies bleeding,”--so you may,[255]
Though the red Flower, not prostrate, only droops,
As we have seen it here from day to day,
From month to month, life passing not away:
A flower how rich in sadness! Even thus stoops, 5
(Sentient by Grecian sculpture’s marvellous power)
Thus leans, with hanging brow and body bent
Earthward in uncomplaining languishment,
The dying Gladiator. So, sad Flower!
(’Tis Fancy guides me willing to be led, 10
Though by a slender thread,)
So drooped Adonis bathed in sanguine dew
Of his death-wound, when he from innocent air
The gentlest breath of resignation drew;
While Venus in a passion of despair 15
Rent, weeping over him, her golden hair
Spangled with drops of that celestial shower.
She suffered, as Immortals sometimes do;
But pangs more lasting far, _that_ Lover knew
Who first, weighed down by scorn, in some lone bower 20
Did press this semblance of unpitied smart
Into the service of his constant heart,
His own dejection, downcast Flower! could share
With thine, and gave the mournful name which thou wilt ever bear.

[255] Compare _Midsummer Night’s Dream_, act II. scene i. ll. 165-168.--ED.

“THEY CALL IT LOVE LIES BLEEDING! RATHER SAY”

The previous poem was originally composed in sonnet form; and it belongs, in that form, to the year 1833. It occurs in a MS. copy of the sonnets which record the Tour of 1833 to the Isle of Man and to Scotland.--ED.

They call it Love lies bleeding! rather say
That in this crimson Flower Love bleeding _droops_,
A Flower how sick in sadness! Thus it stoops
With languid head unpropped from day to day
From month to month, life passing not away. 5
Even so the dying Gladiator leans
On mother earth, and from his patience gleans
Relics of tender thoughts, regrets that stay
A moment and are gone. O fate-bowed flower!
Fair as Adonis bathed in sanguine dew, 10
Of his death-wound, _that_ Lover’s heart was true
As heaven, who pierced by scorn in some lone bower
Could press thy semblance of unpitied smart
Into the service of his constant heart.

COMPANION TO THE FOREGOING

Composed (?)[256]--Published 1845

Never enlivened with the liveliest ray
That fosters growth or checks or cheers decay,
Nor by the heaviest rain-drops more deprest,
This Flower, that first appeared as summer’s guest,
Preserves her beauty ’mid autumnal leaves 5
And to her mournful habits fondly cleaves.

When files of stateliest plants have ceased to bloom,
One after one submitting to their doom,
When her coevals each and all are fled,
What keeps her thus reclined upon her lonesome bed? 10

The old mythologists, more impress’d than we
Of this late day by character in tree
Or herb, that claimed peculiar sympathy,
Or by the silent lapse of fountain clear,
Or with the language of the viewless air 15
By bird or beast made vocal, sought a cause
To solve the mystery, not in Nature’s laws
But in Man’s fortunes. Hence a thousand tales
Sung to the plaintive lyre in Grecian vales.
Nor doubt that something of their spirit swayed 20
The fancy-stricken Youth or heart-sick Maid,
Who, while each stood companionless and eyed
This undeparting Flower in crimson dyed,
Thought of a wound which death is slow to cure,
A fate that has endured and will endure, 25
And, patience coveting yet passion feeding,
Called the dejected Lingerer, _Love lies bleeding_.

[256] The date of the composition of this poem is uncertain, but, as “companion” to _Love lies Bleeding_, it must be placed in immediate succession to it.--ED.

THE CUCKOO-CLOCK

Composed 1842.--Published 1842

[Of this clock I have nothing further to say than what the poem expresses, except that it must be here recorded that it was a present from the dear friend for whose sake these notes were chiefly undertaken, and who has written them from my dictation.--I.F.]

One of the “Poems of the Imagination.”--ED.

Wouldst thou be taught, when sleep has taken flight,
By a sure voice that can most sweetly tell,
How far-off yet a glimpse of morning light,
And if to lure the truant back be well,
Forbear to covet a Repeater’s stroke, 5
That, answering to thy touch, will sound the hour;
Better provide thee with a Cuckoo-clock
For service hung behind thy chamber-door;
And in due time the soft spontaneous shock,
The double note, as if with living power, 10
Will to composure lead--or make thee blithe as bird in bower.

List, Cuckoo--Cuckoo!--oft tho’ tempests howl,
Or nipping frost remind thee trees are bare,
How cattle pine, and droop the shivering fowl,
Thy spirits will seem to feed on balmy air: 15
I speak with knowledge,--by that Voice beguiled,
Thou wilt salute old memories as they throng
Into thy heart; and fancies, running wild
Through fresh green fields, and budding groves among,
Will make thee happy, happy as a child; 20
Of sunshine wilt thou think, and flowers, and song,
And breathe as in a world where nothing can go wrong.

And know--that, even for him who shuns the day
And nightly tosses on a bed of pain;
Whose joys, from all but memory swept away, 25
Must come unhoped for, if they come again;
Know--that, for him whose waking thoughts, severe
As his distress is sharp, would scorn my theme,
The mimic notes, striking upon his ear
In sleep, and intermingling with his dream, 30
Could from sad regions send him to a dear
Delightful land of verdure, shower and gleam,
To mock the _wandering_ Voice[257] beside some haunted
stream.[258]

O bounty without measure! while the grace
Of Heaven doth in such wise, from humblest springs, 35
Pour pleasure forth, and solaces that trace
A mazy course along familiar things,
Well may our hearts have faith that blessings come,
Streaming from founts above the starry sky,
With angels when their own untroubled home 40
They leave, and speed on nightly embassy
To visit earthly chambers,--and for whom?
Yea, both for souls who God’s forbearance try,
And those that seek his help, and for his mercy sigh.

[257] Compare _To the Cuckoo_ (vol. ii. p. 289)--

O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?

ED.

[258] Professor Dowden has appropriately called attention to the fact that the cuckoo-clock at Rydal Mount was not stopped during Wordsworth’s last illness.--ED.

“WANSFELL! THIS HOUSEHOLD HAS A FAVOURED LOT”

Composed 1842.--Published 1845

One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”--ED.

Wansfell![259] this Household has a favoured lot,
Living with liberty on thee to gaze,
To watch while Morn first crowns thee with her rays,
Or when along thy breast serenely float
Evening’s angelic clouds. Yet ne’er a note 5
Hath sounded (shame upon the Bard!) thy praise
For all that thou, as if from heaven, hast brought
Of glory lavished on our quiet days.
Bountiful Son of Earth! when we are gone
From every object dear to mortal sight, 10
As soon we shall be, may these words attest
How oft, to elevate our spirits, shone
Thy visionary majesties of light,
How in thy pensive glooms our hearts found rest.

_Dec. 24, 1842._

[259] The Hill that rises to the south-east, above Ambleside.--W.W. 1842.

“THOUGH THE BOLD WINGS OF POESY AFFECT”

Composed (?)--Published 1842

One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”--ED.

Though the bold wings of Poesy affect
The clouds, and wheel around the mountain tops
Rejoicing, from her loftiest height she drops
Well pleased to skim the plain with wild flowers deckt,
Or muse in solemn grove whose shades protect 5
The lingering dew--there steals along, or stops
Watching the least small bird that round her hops,
Or creeping worm, with sensitive respect.
Her functions are they therefore less divine,
Her thoughts less deep, or void of grave intent 10
Her simplest fancies? Should that fear be thine,
Aspiring Votary, ere thy hand present
One offering, kneel before her modest shrine,
With brow in penitential sorrow bent!

“GLAD SIGHT WHEREVER NEW WITH OLD”

Composed 1842.[260]--Published 1845

One of the “Poems of the Fancy.”--ED.

Glad sight wherever new with old[261]
Is joined through some dear homeborn tie;

The life[262] of all that we behold
Depends upon that mystery.
Vain is the glory of the sky,[263] 5
The beauty vain of field and grove,
Unless, while with admiring eye[264]
We gaze, we also learn to love.[265]

[260] A MS. copy of this fragment in Wordsworth’s handwriting, 31st December 1842, fixes the date approximately.--ED.

[261] 1845.

Look up, look round, let things unfold
Far as they may, their mysteries;
What profits it if new with old
Unites not with some homeborn ties.

MS. 31st Dec. 1842.

Welcome the sight when new with old

C.

Glad sight it is when new with old

MS. 1843.

[262] 1845.

The good …

C.

[263] 1845.

… skies,

MS. 1843.

[264] 1845.

… eyes

MS. 1843.

[265] Compare the lines addressed to Mrs. Wordsworth in 1824, beginning--

True beauty dwells in deep retreats.

ED.

1843

Two sonnets, and an _Inscription_ for a monument to Southey, were written in 1843.--ED.

“WHILE BEAMS OF ORIENT LIGHT SHOOT WIDE AND HIGH”

Composed 1st January 1843.--Published 1845

One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”--ED.

While beams of orient light shoot wide and high,
Deep in the vale a little rural Town[266]
Breathes forth a cloud-like creature of its own,
That mounts not toward the radiant morning sky,
But, with a less ambitious sympathy, 5
Hangs o’er its Parent waking to the cares
Troubles and toils that every day prepares.
So Fancy, to the musing Poet’s eye,
Endears that Lingerer. And how blest her sway[267]
(Like influence never may my soul reject)[268] 10
If the calm Heaven, now to its zenith decked[269]
With glorious forms in numberless array,
To the lone shepherd on the hills disclose
Gleams from[270] a world in which the saints repose.

_Jan. 1, 1843._

[266] Ambleside.--W.W. 1845.

[267] 1845.

… And blessed be her sway

MS.

So Fancy charms the musing Poet’s eye
Fixed on that Lingerer …

C.

[268] 1845.

Ne’er may my soul like influence reject.

MS.†

[269] 1845.

Endear that Lingerer. And how blest her sway,
The faith how pure and holy in effect,
If the calm Heavens, now to their summit decked

MS.†

[270]

… of …

MS.†

† These MS. variants occur in a copy of the sonnet written by Wordsworth for Mrs. Arnold at Foxhowe.

INSCRIPTION

FOR A MONUMENT IN CROSTHWAITE CHURCH, IN THE VALE OF KESWICK

Composed 1843.--Published 1845

One of the “Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces.”--ED.

Ye vales and hills whose beauty hither drew
The poet’s steps, and fixed him here, on you,
His eyes have closed! And ye, lov’d books, no more
Shall Southey feed upon your precious lore,
To works that ne’er shall forfeit their renown 5
Adding immortal labours of his own--
Whether he traced historic truth, with zeal
For the State’s guidance, or the Church’s weal,
Or Fancy, disciplined by studious art,
Inform’d his pen, or wisdom of the heart, 10
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.
Wide were his aims, yet in no human breast
Could private feelings meet for holier rest.
His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud 15
From Skiddaw’s top; but he to heaven was vowed
Through his industrious life, and Christian faith
Calmed in his soul the fear of change and death.

I received, from the late Lord Coleridge, the following extracts from letters written by Wordsworth to his father, the Hon. Justice Coleridge, in reference to the Southey Inscription in Crosthwaite Church. Wordsworth seems to have submitted the proposed Inscription to Mr. Coleridge’s judgment, and the changes he made upon it, in deference to the opinions he received, shew, as Lord Coleridge says, “the extreme care Wordsworth took to have the substance, and the expression also, as perfect as he could make it.” The original draft of the “Inscription” was as follows:--

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF ROBERT SOUTHEY, WHOSE MORTAL REMAINS
ARE INTERRED IN THE ADJOINING CHURCHYARD. HE WAS BORN AT
BRISTOL, OCTOBER YE 4TH, 1774, AND DIED, AFTER A RESIDENCE OF
NEARLY FORTY YEARS, AT GRETA HALL IN THIS PARISH. MARCH 21ST,
1843.

Ye Vales and Hills, whose beauty hither drew
The Poet’s steps, and fixed him here, on you
His eyes have closed; and ye, loved Books, no more
Shall Southey feed upon your precious lore,
To Works that ne’er shall forfeit their renown
Adding immortal labours of his own,
As Fancy, disciplined by studious Art
Informed his pen, or Wisdom of the heart,
Or judgments rooted in a Patriot’s mind
Taught to revere the rights of all mankind.
Friends, Family--ah wherefore touch that string,
To them _so_ fondly did the good man cling!
His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud
From Skiddaw’s top; but He to Heaven was vowed
Through a long life; and calmed by Christian faith,
In his pure soul, the fear of change and death.

This Memorial was erected by friends of Robert Southey.

Alteration in the Epitaph--

… He to Heaven was vowed
Through a life long and pure; and Christian faith
Calmed in his soul the fear of change and death.--W.W.

December the 6th.

MY DEAR MR. JUSTICE COLERIDGE,

Notwithstanding what I have written before, I could not but
wish to meet _your wishes_ upon the points which you mentioned,
and, accordingly, have added and altered as on the other side
of this paper. If you approve don’t trouble yourself to answer.

Ever faithfully yours,

W. WORDSWORTH.

Ye torrents, foaming down the rocky steeps,
Ye lakes, wherein the spirit of water sleeps,
Ye vales and hills, etc.
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.
Friends, Family--within no human breast
Could private feelings need a holier nest.
His joys, his griefs, have vanished.

These alterations are approved of by friends here, and I hope
will please you.

* * * * *

MY DEAR MR. JUSTICE COLERIDGE,

Pray accept my thanks for the pains you have taken with the
Inscription, and excuse the few words I shall have to say upon
your remarks. There are two lakes in the Vale of Keswick; both
which, along with the lateral Vale of Newlands immediately
opposite Southey’s study window, will be included in the words
“Ye _Vales_ and Hills” by everyone who is familiar with the
neighbourhood.

I quite agree with you that the construction of the lines
that particularize his writings is rendered awkward by so
many participles passive, and the more so on account of the
transitive verb _informed_. One of these participles may be
got rid of, and, I think, a better couplet produced by this
alteration--

Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.

As I have entered into particulars as to the character of S.’s
writings, and they are so various, I thought his historic
works ought by no means to be omitted, and therefore, though
unwilling to lengthen the Epitaph, I added the two following--

… Labours of his own,
Whether he traced historic truth with zeal
For the State’s guidance, or the Church’s weal,
Or Fancy, disciplined by studious Art,
Informed his pen, or wisdom of the heart,
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.

I do not feel with you in respect to the word “so”; it refers,
of course, to the preceding line, and as the reference is to
fireside feelings and intimate friends, there appears to me
a propriety in an expression inclining to the colloquial.
The couplet was the dictate of my own feelings, and the
construction is accordingly broken and rather dramatic,--but
too much of this. If you have any objection to the couplet
as altered, be so kind as let me know; if not, on no account
trouble yourself to answer this letter.

_Prematurely_ I object to as you do. I used the word with
reference to that decay of faculties which is not uncommon in
advanced life, and which often leads to dotage,--but the word
must not be retained.

We regret much to hear that Lady Coleridge is unwell, pray
present to her our best wishes.

What could induce the Bishop of London to forbid the choral
service at St. Mark’s? It was in execution, I understand, above
all praise.

Ever most faithfully yours,

W. WORDSWORTH.

* * * * *

_December 2nd, ’43._

MY DEAR MR. JUSTICE COLERIDGE,

The first line would certainly have more spirit by reading
“your” as you suggest. I had previously considered _that_;
but decided in favour of “the,” as “your,” I thought, would
clog the sentence in sound, there being “ye” thrice repeated,
and followed by “_you_” at the close of the 4th line. I also
thought that “_your_” would interfere with the application of
“you” at the end of the fourth line, to the _whole_ of the
particular previous images as I intended it to do. But I don’t
trouble you with this Letter on that account, but merely to ask
you whether the couplet now standing:--

Large were his aims, yet in no human breast
Could private feelings find a holier nest,

would not be better thus

Could private feelings meet in holier rest.

This alteration does not quite satisfy me, but I can do no
better. The word “_nest_” both in itself and in conjunction
with “_holier_” seems to me somewhat bold and rather startling
for marble, particularly in a Church. I should not have thought
of any alteration in a merely printed poem, but this makes a
difference. If you think the proposed alteration better, don’t
trouble yourself to answer this; if not, pray be so kind as to
tell me so by a single line. I would not on any account have
trespassed on your time but for this public occasion. We are
sorry to hear of Lady Coleridge’s indisposition; pray present
to her our kind regards and best wishes for her recovery,
united with the greetings of the season both for her and
yourself, and believe me faithfully,

Your obliged,

WM. WORDSWORTH.

RYDAL MOUNT, _December 23rd, ’43_.

* * * * *

TO THE MEMORY OF ROBERT SOUTHEY, A MAN EMINENT FOR GENIUS,
VERSATILE TALENTS, EXTENSIVE AND ACCURATE KNOWLEDGE, AND
HABITS OF THE MOST CONSCIENTIOUS INDUSTRY. NOR WAS HE LESS
DISTINGUISHED FOR STRICT TEMPERANCE, PURE BENEVOLENCE, AND WARM
AFFECTIONS; BUT HIS MIND, SUCH ARE THE AWFUL DISPENSATIONS OF
PROVIDENCE, WAS PREMATURELY AND ALMOST TOTALLY OBSCURED BY A
SLOWLY-WORKING AND INSCRUTABLE MALADY UNDER WHICH HE LANGUISHED
UNTIL RELEASED BY DEATH IN THE 69TH YEAR OF HIS AGE.

READER! PONDER THE CONDITION TO WHICH THIS GREAT AND GOOD
MAN, NOT WITHOUT MERCIFUL ALLEVIATIONS, WAS DOOMED, AND LEARN
FROM HIS EXAMPLE TO MAKE TIMELY USE OF THY ENDOWMENTS AND
OPPORTUNITIES, AND TO WALK HUMBLY WITH THY GOD.

* * * * *

COPY OF THE PRINTED INSCRIPTION

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF ROBERT SOUTHEY, WHOSE MORTAL REMAINS
ARE INTERRED IN THE ADJOINING CHURCHYARD. HE WAS BORN AT
BRISTOL, OCTOBER 4TH, 1774, AND DIED AFTER A RESIDENCE OF
NEARLY 40 YEARS AT GRETA HALL, IN THIS PARISH, MARCH 21ST, 1843.

Ye torrents, foaming down the rocky steeps,
Ye lakes, wherein the spirit of water sleeps,
Ye vales and hills, whose beauty hither drew
The Poet’s steps and fixed him here, on you
His eyes have closed! and ye, loved books, no more
Shall Southey feed upon your precious lore,
To works that ne’er shall forfeit their renown
Adding immortal labours of his own--
Whether he traced historic truth, with zeal
For the State’s guidance or the Church’s weal,
Or Fancy, disciplined by studious art,
Informed his pen, or wisdom of the heart,
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.
Wide were his aims, yet in no human breast
Could private feelings find a holier nest.
His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud
From Skiddaw’s top; but he to Heaven was vowed
Through a long life, and calmed by Christian faith,
In his pure soul, the fear of change and death.

This Memorial was erected by friends of Robert Southey.

Edward Quillinan wrote, 25th March 1843, “Yesterday I drove Mr. Wordsworth early over to Keswick, that he and I might attend the funeral of Mr. Southey, who was buried in Crosthwaite churchyard there at eleven A.M. It was very affecting to see Kate Southey with her brother Cuthbert, and brother-in-law Herbert Hill, at her father’s grave as the coffin was lowered into it. She looked as if she yearned to be there too. She says she has now got her father back again.”--ED.

TO THE REV. CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D., MASTER OF HARROW SCHOOL[271]

After the perusal of his _Theophilus Anglicanus_, recently published.

Composed 1843.--Published 1845

One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”--ED.

Enlightened Teacher, gladly from thy hand
Have I received this proof of pains bestowed
By Thee to guide thy Pupils on the road
That, in our native isle, and every land,
The Church, when trusting in divine command 5
And in her Catholic attributes, hath trod:
O may these lessons be with profit scanned
To thy heart’s wish, thy labour blest by God!
So the bright faces of the young and gay
Shall look more bright--the happy, happier still; 10
Catch, in the pauses of their keenest play,
Motions of thought which elevate the will
And, like the Spire that from your classic Hill
Points heavenward, indicate the end and way.

RYDAL MOUNT, _Dec. 11, 1843_.

[271] The poet’s nephew, afterwards Canon of Westminster, and Bishop of Lincoln, and the biographer of his uncle.--ED.

1844

Only four poems were written in 1844.--ED.

“SO FAIR, SO SWEET, WITHAL SO SENSITIVE”

Composed July 1844.--Published 1845

One of the “Poems of Sentiment and Reflection.”--ED.

So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive,
Would that the little Flowers were born to live,
Conscious of half the pleasure which they give;

That to this mountain-daisy’s self were known[272]
The beauty of its star-shaped shadow, thrown 5
On the smooth surface of this[273] naked stone!

And what if hence a bold desire should mount
High as the Sun, that he could take account
Of all that issues from his glorious fount!

So might he ken how by his sovereign aid 10
These delicate companionships are made;
And how he rules the pomp of light and shade;

And were the Sister-power that shines by night
So privileged, what a countenance of delight
Would through the clouds break forth on human sight! 15

Fond fancies! wheresoe’er shall turn thine eye
On earth, air, ocean, or the starry sky,
Converse with Nature in pure sympathy;[274]

All vain desires, all lawless wishes quelled,
Be Thou to love and praise alike impelled, 20
Whatever boon is granted or withheld.[275][276]

[272] Compare the lines _To a Child, written in her Album_, in 1834.--ED.

[273] 1844.

Its sole companion on this

C.

[274] 1845.

Fond fancies’ bond, between a smile and sigh,
Do thou more wise, where’er thou turn’st thine eye
Converse with Nature in pure sympathy.

C.

… be taught to fix an eye
On holy Nature in pure sympathy.

C.

Fond fancies, wheresoe’er shall range thine eye
Among the forms and powers of earth or sky,
Converse with Nature in pure sympathy.

C.

[275] 1845.

A thankful heart all lawless wishes quelled,
To joy, to praise, to love alike compelled,
Whatever boon be granted or withheld.

C.

The following variation of the two last stanzas is from a MS. copy by Wordsworth.

Fond fancies! wheresoe’er shall range thine eye
Among the forms and powers of earth and sky,
Converse with nature in pure sympathy.
A thankful heart, all lawless wishes quell’d,
To joy, to praise, to love alike compell’d,
Whatever boon be granted or withheld.

_August, 1844._--ED.

[276] The following account of the circumstance which gave rise to the preceding poem is from the _Memoir_ of Professor Archer Butler, by Mr. Woodward, prefixed to the “First Series” of his Sermons. The late Rev. Archdeacon Graves, of Dublin (in 1849 of Windermere), in writing to Mr. Woodward, gives an interesting account of a walk, in July 1844, from Windermere, by Rydal and Grasmere, to Loughrigg Tarn, etc., in which Butler was accompanied by Wordsworth, Julius Charles Hare, Sir William Hamilton, etc. He says, “The day was additionally memorable as giving birth to an interesting minor poem of Mr. Wordsworth’s. When we reached the side of Loughrigg Tarn (which you may remember he notes for its similarity, in the peculiar character of its beauty, to the Lago di Nemi--Dianae Speculum), the loveliness of the scene arrested our steps and fixed our gaze. The splendour of a July noon surrounded us and lit up the landscape, with the Langdale Pikes soaring above, and the bright tarn shining beneath; and when the poet’s eyes were satisfied with their feast on the beauties familiar to them, they sought relief in the search, to them a happy vital habit, for new beauty in the flower-enamelled turf at his feet. There his attention was arrested by a fair smooth stone, of the size of an ostrich’s egg, seeming to imbed at its centre, and at the same time to display a dark star-shaped fossil of most distinct outline. Upon closer inspection this proved to be the shadow of a daisy projected upon it with extraordinary precision by the intense light of an almost vertical sun. The poet drew the attention of the rest of the party to the minute but beautiful phenomenon, and gave expression at the time to thoughts suggested by it, which so interested our friend Professor Butler, that he plucked the tiny flower, and, saying that “it should be not only the theme but the memorial of the thought they had heard,” bestowed it somewhere carefully for preservation. The little poem, in which some of these thoughts were afterwards crystallised, commences with the stanza--

So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive,
Would that the little flowers were born to live,
Conscious of half the pleasure that they give.”

_Memoir_, pp. 27, 28.--ED.

ON THE PROJECTED KENDAL AND WINDERMERE RAILWAY

Composed October 12, 1844.--Published 1844[277]

One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”--ED.

Is then no nook of English ground secure
From rash assault?[278] Schemes of retirement sown
In youth, and ’mid the busy world kept pure
As when their earliest flowers of hope were blown,
Must perish;--how can they this blight endure? 5
And must he too the ruthless change bemoan
Who scorns a false utilitarian lure
’Mid his paternal fields at random thrown?
Baffle the threat, bright Scene, from Orrest-head[279]
Given to the pausing traveller’s rapturous glance: 10
Plead for thy peace, thou beautiful romance
Of nature; and, if human hearts be dead,
Speak, passing winds; ye torrents, with your strong
And constant voice, protest against the wrong.

_October 12th, 1844._

[277] In the first edition of his pamphlet “On the projected Kendal and Windermere Railway.”--ED.

[278] The degree and kind of attachment which many of the yeomanry feel to their small inheritances can scarcely be over-rated. Near the house of one of them stands a magnificent tree, which a neighbour of the owner advised him to fell for profit’s sake. “Fell it!” exclaimed the yeoman, “I had rather fall on my knees and worship it.” It happens, I believe, that the intended railway would pass through this little property, and I hope that an apology for the answer will not be thought necessary by one who enters into the strength of the feeling.--W.W. 1845.

Compare the two letters on the Kendal and Windermere Railway, contributed by Wordsworth to _The Morning Post_ in 1844, at Kendal, revised and reprinted in the same year. See _The Prose Works of Wordsworth_, vol. ii. pp. 383-405.--ED.

[279] Orresthead is the height close to Windermere, to the north of the town.--ED.

“PROUD WERE YE, MOUNTAINS, WHEN, IN TIMES OF OLD”

Composed 1844.--Published 1845[280]

One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”--ED.

Proud were ye, Mountains, when, in times of old,
Your patriot sons, to stem invasive war,
Intrenched your brows; ye gloried in each scar:
Now, for your shame, a Power, the Thirst of Gold,
That rules o’er Britain like a baneful star, 5
Wills that your peace, your beauty, shall be sold,
And clear way made for her triumphal car
Through the beloved retreats your arms enfold!
Heard YE that Whistle? As her long-linked Train
Swept onwards, did the vision cross your view? 10
Yes, ye were startled;--and, in balance true,
Weighing the mischief with the promised gain,
Mountains, and Vales, and Floods, I call on you
To share the passion of a just disdain.

The following by Canon Rawnsley--suggested by an attempt to introduce a mineral railway into Borrowdale--may be read in connection with Wordsworth’s two sonnets.--ED.

A CRY FROM DERWENTWATER

Shall then the stream of ruinous Lodore
Not fill the valley with its changeful sound
Unchallenged! shall grey Derwent’s sacred bound
Hear the harsh brawl and intermittent roar
Of mocking waves upon an iron shore,
Whereby nor health nor happiness is found!--
While steam-wains drag from Honister’s heart wound
The long cooled ashes of its fiery core!

Burst forth ye sulphurous fountains, as ye broke
On Skiddaw, lick the waters, blast the trees,
And let men have the earth they would desire,--
As well go pass our children through the fire
With shrieks, Cath-Belus, round thine altar’s smoke,
As let old Derwent hear such sounds as these.

H.D. RAWNSLEY.

WRAY VICARAGE, AMBLESIDE.

[280] This sonnet was first published in _The Morning Post_, December 17, 1844.--ED.

AT FURNESS ABBEY

Composed 1844.--Published 1845

One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”--ED.

Here, where, of havoc tired and rash undoing,
Man left this Structure to become Time’s prey
A soothing spirit follows in the way
That Nature takes, her counter-work pursuing.
See how her Ivy clasps the sacred Ruin[281] 5
Fall to prevent or beautify decay;
And, on the mouldered walls, how bright, how gay,
The flowers in pearly dews their bloom renewing!
Thanks to the place, blessings upon the hour;
Even as I speak the rising Sun’s first smile 10
Gleams on the grass-crowned top of yon tall Tower[282]
Whose cawing occupants with joy proclaim
Prescriptive title to the shattered pile
Where, Cavendish,[283] _thine_ seems nothing but a name!

[281] In the chancel of the church at Furness Abbey, ivy almost covers the north wall. In the Belfry and in the Chapter House, it is the same. The “tower,” referred to in the sonnet, is evidently the belfry tower to the west. It is still “grass-crowned.” The sonnet was doubtless composed on the spot, and if Wordsworth ascended to the top of the belfry tower, he might have seen the morning sunlight strike the small remaining fragment of the central tower. But it is more likely that he looked up from the nave, or choir, of the church to the belfry, when he spoke of the sun’s first smile gleaming from the top of the tall tower. “Flowers”--crowfoot, campanulas, etc.--still luxuriate on the mouldered walls. With the line,

Fall to prevent or beautify decay;

compare,

Nature softening and concealing,
And busy with a hand of healing,

in the description of Bolton Abbey in _The White Doe of Rylstone_, canto i. I. 118. Compare also the _Address from the Spirit of Cockermouth Castle_, vol. vii. p. 347.--ED.

[282] See preceding note.

[283] Furness Abbey is the property of the Duke of Devonshire, whose family name is Cavendish.--ED.

1845

The Poems of 1845 include one of the group “On the Naming of Places,” _The Westmoreland Girl_ (addressed to the Poet’s grandchildren), several fragments addressed to Mrs. Wordsworth, and to friends, with one or two Sonnets.--ED.

“FORTH FROM A JUTTING RIDGE, AROUND WHOSE BASE”

Composed 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Poems upon the Naming of Places.”--ED.

Forth from a jutting ridge, around whose base
Winds our deep Vale, two heath-clad Rocks ascend[284][285]
In fellowship, the loftiest of the pair
Rising to no ambitious height; yet both,
O’er lake[286] and stream, mountain and flowery mead, 5
Unfolding prospects fair as human eyes[287]
Ever beheld. Up-led with mutual help,
To one or other brow of those twin Peaks
Were two adventurous Sisters wont to climb,
And took no note of the hour while thence they gazed, 10
The blooming heath their couch, gazed, side by side,
In speechless admiration. I, a witness
And frequent sharer of their calm[288] delight
With thankful heart, to either Eminence
Gave the baptismal name each Sister bore. 15
Now are they parted,[289] far as Death’s cold hand
Hath power to part the Spirits of those who love
As they did love. Ye kindred Pinnacles--
That, while the generations of mankind
Follow each other to their hiding-place 20
In time’s abyss, are privileged to endure
Beautiful in yourselves, and richly graced
With like command of beauty--grant your aid
For MARY’S humble, SARAH’S silent, claim,
That their pure joy in nature may survive 25
From age to age in blended memory.

[284] 1845.

Winds our sequestered vale, two rocks ascend

MS.

[285] These two rocks rise to the left of the lower high-road from Grasmere to Rydal, after it leaves the former lake and turns eastwards towards the latter. They are still “heath-clad,” and covered with the coppice of the old Bane Riggs Wood, so named because the shortest road from Ambleside to Grasmere used to pass through it; “bain” or “bane” signifying, in the Westmoreland dialect, a short cut. Dr. Cradock wrote of them thus:--“They are now difficult of approach, being enclosed in a wood, with dense undergrowth, and surrounded by a high, well-built wall. They can be well seen from the lower road, from a spot close to the three-mile stone from Ambleside. They are some fifty or sixty feet above the road, about twenty yards apart, and separated by a slight depression of, say, ten feet. The view from the easterly one is now much preferable, as it is less encumbered with shrubs; and for that reason also is more heath-clad. The twin rocks are also well seen, though at a farther distance, from the hill in White Moss Common between the roads, which Dr. Arnold used to call ‘Old Corruption,’ and ‘Bit-by-bit Reform.’ Doubtless the rocks were far more easily approached fifty years ago, when walls, if any, were low and ill-built. It is probable, however, that even then they were enclosed and protected; for heath will not grow on the Grasmere hills, on places much frequented by sheep.” The best view of these “heath-clad” rocks from the lower carriage road is at a spot two or three yards to the west of a large rock on the road-side near the milestone. The view of them from the Loughrigg Terrace walks is also interesting. The two sisters were Mary and Sarah Hutchinson (Mrs. Wordsworth and her Sister); and, in the Rydal household, the rocks were respectively named “Mary-Point,” and “Sarah-Point.”--ED.

[286] 1845.

O’er wood …

MS.

[287] 1845.

… eye

MS.

[288] 1845.

… that deep …

MS.

[289] 1845.

Gone to a common home, their duty done,
In this dear vale the Sisters lived, but long
Have they been parted …

C.

True to a common love, their early choice
In this dear Vale, the sisters lived, but long
Have they been parted-- …

C.

THE WESTMORELAND GIRL[290]

TO MY GRANDCHILDREN

Composed June 6, 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Poems referring to the Period of Childhood.”--ED.