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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:57:40 -0700 |
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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volume IV (of 8)</p> +<p>Author: William Wordsworth</p> +<p>Editor: William Knight</p> +<p>Release Date: May 20, 2010 [eBook #32459]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, VOLUME IV (OF 8)***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Christine Aldridge,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="tr"> +<h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3> + +<p>1. Minor punctuation errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>2. All spelling inconsistencies have been retained. +A <a href="#Transcribers_Notes">list</a> appears at the end of this text together +with other notes.</p> + +<p>3. All footnotes have been moved to the chapter or sub-chapter ends and cross links provided.</p> + +<p>4. All poetry line markers have been retained as placed and numbered by the printer in 5, 4 or 6 line intervals.</p> + +<p>5. All gothic fonts in the original text are represented as "<em class="antiqua">Antiqua</em>" in this e-text.</p> + +<p>6. Many poems begin in the middle of a page, therefore page links in the Table of Contents are linked to the poem's title.</p> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2>THE POETICAL WORKS</h2> +<h4>OF</h4> +<h1>WILLIAM WORDSWORTH</h1> +<h4>EDITED BY</h4> +<h3>WILLIAM KNIGHT</h3> +<h3>VOL. IV</h3> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/titlepg.jpg" width="400" height="305" alt="Title Page Illustration" title="Title Page Illustration"/> +</div> + +<h2><em class="antiqua">London</em></h2> +<h3>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class="smcap">Ltd.</span></h3> +<h4>NEW YORK: MACMILLAN & CO.</h4> +<h4>1896</h4> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><h4><a href="#Year_1806">1806</a></h4></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1"> </td><td align="right">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">To the Spade of a Friend</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TO_THE_SPADE_OF_A_FRIEND">2</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Character of the Happy Warrior</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#CHARACTER_OF_THE_HAPPY_WARRIOR">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">The Horn of Egremont Castle</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THE_HORN_OF_EGREMONT_CASTLE">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">A Complaint</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#A_COMPLAINT">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Stray Pleasures</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#STRAY_PLEASURES">18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Power of Music</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#POWER_OF_MUSIC">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Star-gazers</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#STAR-GAZERS">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Yes, it was the mountain Echo"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#YES_IT_WAS_THE_MOUNTAIN_ECHO">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#NUNS_FRET_NOT_AT_THEIR_CONVENTS">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Personal Talk</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#PERSONAL_TALK">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Admonition</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#ADMONITION">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"'Beloved Vale!' I said, 'when I shall con'"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#BELOVED_VALE_I_SAID_WHEN_I">35</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"How sweet it is, when mother Fancy rocks"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#HOW_SWEET_IT_IS_WHEN_MOTHER">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Those words were uttered as in pensive mood"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THOSE_WORDS_WERE_UTTERED_AS_IN">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the sky"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#WITH_HOW_SAD_STEPS_O_MOON_THOU">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"The world is too much with us; late and soon"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THE_WORLD_IS_TOO_MUCH_WITH_US">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"With Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#WITH_SHIPS_THE_SEA_WAS_SPRINKLED">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span>"Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go?"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#WHERE_LIES_THE_LAND_TO_WHICH_YON">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">To Sleep</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TO_SLEEP">42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">To Sleep</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TO_SLEEP_1">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">To Sleep</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TO_SLEEP_2">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">To the Memory of Raisley Calvert</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TO_THE_MEMORY_OF_RAISLEY_CALVERT">44</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Methought I saw the footsteps of a throne"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#METHOUGHT_I_SAW_THE_FOOTSTEPS">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol3">Lines composed at Grasmere, during a walk one Evening, +after a stormy day, the Author having just read +in a Newspaper that the dissolution of Mr. Fox was +hourly expected</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#LINES">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">November, 1806</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#NOVEMBER_1806">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Address to a Child</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_A_CHILD">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Brook! whose society the Poet seeks"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#BROOK_WHOSE_SOCIETY_THE_POET">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"There is a little unpretending Rill"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THERE_IS_A_LITTLE_UNPRETENDING_RILL">53</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><h4><br /><a href="#Year_1807">1807</a><br /></h4></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">To Lady Beaumont</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TO_LADY_BEAUMONT">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">A Prophecy. February, 1807</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#A_PROPHECY_FEBRUARY_1807">59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THOUGHT_OF_A_BRITON_ON_THE">60</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol3">To Thomas Clarkson, on the final passing of the Bill for +the Abolition of the Slave Trade, March, 1807</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TO_THOMAS_CLARKSON">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">The Mother's Return</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THE_MOTHERS_RETURN">63</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Gipsies</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#GIPSIES">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"O Nightingale! thou surely art"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#O_NIGHTINGALE_THOU_SURELY_ART">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Though narrow be that old Man's cares, and near"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THOUGH_NARROW_BE_THAT_OLD_MANS">68</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Composed by the side of Grasmere Lake. 1807</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#COMPOSED_BY_THE_SIDE_OF_GRASMERE">73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol3">In the Grounds of Coleorton, the Seat of Sir George +Beaumont, Bart., Leicestershire</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span><a href="#IN_THE_GROUNDS_OF_COLEORTON_THE_SEAT_OF_SIR_GEORGE_BEAUMONT_BART_LEICESTERSHIRE">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">In a Garden of the same</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#IN_A_GARDEN_OF_THE_SAME">76</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol3">Written at the request of Sir George Beaumont, Bart., +and in his name, for an Urn, placed by him at the +termination of a newly-planted Avenue in the same Grounds</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#WRITTEN_AT_THE_REQUEST_OF_SIR_GEORGE_BEAUMONT">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">For a Seat in the Groves of Coleorton</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#FOR_A_SEAT_IN_THE_GROVES_OF">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#SONG_AT_THE_FEAST_OF_BROUGHAM">82</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><h4><br /><a href="#Year_1808">1808</a><br /></h4></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tcol1">The White Doe of Rylstone</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">The Force of Prayer</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA">204</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol3">Composed while the Author was engaged in writing a +Tract, occasioned by the Convention of Cintra. 1808</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#COMPOSED_WHILE_THE_AUTHOR_WAS_ENGAGED">210</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Composed at the same time and on the same occasion</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#COMPOSED_AT_THE_SAME_TIME_AND_ON">211</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><h4><br /><a href="#Year_1809">1809</a><br /></h4></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tcol1">Tyrolese Sonnets—</td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">Hoffer</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TYROLESE_SONNETS">213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"Advance—come forth from thy Tyrolean ground"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#ADVANCE_COME_FORTH">214</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">Feelings of the Tyrolese</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#FEELINGS_OF_THE_TYROLESE">215</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"Alas! what boots the long laborious quest"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#ALAS_WHAT_BOOTS_THE_LONG">216</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">On the final Submission of the Tyrolese</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#ON_THE_FINAL_SUBMISSION_OF_THE_TYROLESE">217</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"The martial courage of a day is vain"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THE_MARTIAL_COURAGE_OF_A_DAY_IS_VAIN">217</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"And is it among rude untutored Dales"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#AND_IS_IT_AMONG_RUDE_UNTUTORED">222</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"O'er the wide earth, on mountain and on plain"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#OER_THE_WIDE_EARTH_ON_MOUNTAIN">223</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span>"Hail, Zaragoza! If with unwet eye"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#HAIL_ZARAGOZA_IF_WITH_UNWET_EYE">224</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Say, what is Honour?—'Tis the finest sense"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#SAY_WHAT_IS_HONOUR_TIS_THE">225</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Brave Schill! by death delivered, take thy flight"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#BRAVE_SCHILL_BY_DEATH_DELIVERED">226</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Call not the royal Swede unfortunate"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#CALL_NOT_THE_ROYAL_SWEDE">227</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Look now on that Adventurer who hath paid"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#LOOK_NOW_ON_THAT_ADVENTURER_WHO">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Is there a power that can sustain and cheer"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#IS_THERE_A_POWER_THAT_CAN_SUSTAIN">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Epitaphs translated from Chiabrera—</td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"Weep not, belovèd Friends! nor let the air"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#WEEP_NOT_BELOVED_FRIENDS">230</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"Perhaps some needful service of the State"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#PERHAPS_SOME_NEEDFUL_SERVICE">230</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"O Thou who movest onward with a mind"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#O_THOU_WHO_MOVEST_ONWARD">231</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"There never breathed a man who, when his life"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THERE_NEVER_BREATHED_A_MAN">232</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"True is it that Ambrosio Salinero"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TRUE_IS_IT_THAT_AMBROSIO_SALINERO">233</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"Destined to war from very infancy"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#DESTINED_TO_WAR_FROM_VERY_INFANCY">234</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"O flower of all that springs from gentle blood"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#O_FLOWER_OF_ALL_THAT_SPRINGS">235</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"Not without heavy grief of heart did He"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#NOT_WITHOUT_HEAVY_GRIEF_OF_HEART">236</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol4">"Pause, courteous Spirit!—Balbi supplicates"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#PAUSE_COURTEOUS_SPIRIT">237</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><h4><br /><a href="#Year_1810">1810</a><br /></h4></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Ah! where is Palafox? Nor tongue nor pen"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#AH_WHERE_IS_PALAFOX_NOR_TONGUE">240</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"In due observance of an ancient rite"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#IN_DUE_OBSERVANCE_OF_AN_ANCIENT">241</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Feelings of a noble Biscayan at one of those Funerals, 1810</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#FEELINGS_OF_A_NOBLE_BISCAYAN_AT_ONE">242</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">On a celebrated Event in Ancient History</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#ON_A_CELEBRATED_EVENT_IN_ANCIENT">242</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Upon the same Event</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#UPON_THE_SAME_EVENT">244</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">The Oak of Guernica</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THE_OAK_OF_GUERNICA">245</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Indignation of a high-minded Spaniard, 1810</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#INDIGNATION_OF_A_HIGH-MINDED">246</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Avaunt all specious pliancy of mind"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#AVAUNT_ALL_SPECIOUS_PLIANCY_OF">247</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span>"O'erweening Statesmen have full long relied"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#OERWEENING_STATESMEN_HAVE_FULL">247</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">The French and the Spanish Guerillas</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THE_FRENCH_AND_THE_SPANISH">248</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Maternal Grief</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#MATERNAL_GRIEF">248</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><h4><br /><a href="#Year_1811">1811</a><br /></h4></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Characteristics of a Child three years old</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#CHARACTERISTICS_OF_A_CHILD_THREE">252</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Spanish Guerillas, 1811</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#SPANISH_GUERILLAS_1811">253</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"The power of Armies is a visible thing"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#THE_POWER_OF_ARMIES_IS_A_VISIBLE">254</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">"Here pause: the poet claims at least this praise"</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#HERE_PAUSE_THE_POET_CLAIMS_AT_LEAST">255</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Epistle to Sir George Howland Beaumont, Bart.</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#EPISTLE">256</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol3">Upon perusing the foregoing Epistle thirty years after its +composition</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#UPON_PERUSING_THE_FOREGOING_EPISTLE">267</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Upon the sight of a Beautiful Picture</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#UPON_THE_SIGHT_OF_A_BEAUTIFUL">271</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">To the Poet, John Dyer</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#TO_THE_POET_JOHN_DYER">273</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><h4><br /><a href="#Year_1812">1812</a><br /></h4></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Song for the Spinning Wheel</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#SONG_FOR_THE_SPINNING_WHEEL">275</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol3">Composed on the Eve of the Marriage of a Friend in the +Vale of Grasmere, 1812</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#COMPOSED_ON_THE_EVE_OF_THE_MARRIAGE">276</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">Water-fowl</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#WATER-FOWLA">277</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><h4><br /><a href="#Year_1813">1813</a><br /></h4></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">View from the Top of Black Comb</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#VIEW_FROM_THE_TOP_OF_BLACK_COMB">279</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol3">Written with a Slate Pencil on a Stone, on the side of the +Mountain of Black Comb</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#WRITTEN_WITH_A_SLATE_PENCIL">281</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">November, 1813</td><td class="tcol2"><a href="#NOVEMBER_1813">282</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h2>WORDSWORTH'S POETICAL WORKS</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Year_1806" id="Year_1806"></a>1806</h2> + + +<p>Wordsworth left Grasmere with his household for Coleorton +in November 1806, and there is no evidence that he returned to +Westmoreland till April 1808; although his sister spent part of +the winter of 1807-8 at Dove Cottage, while he and Mrs. +Wordsworth wintered at Stockton with the Hutchinson family. +Several of the sonnets which are published in the "Poems" of +1807 refer, however, to Grasmere, and were probably composed +there. I have conjecturally assigned a good many of them +to the year 1806. Some may have been composed earlier than +1806, but it is not likely that any belong to a later year.</p> + +<p>In addition to these, the poems of 1806 include the <a href="#CHARACTER_OF_THE_HAPPY_WARRIOR"><i>Character +of the Happy Warrior</i></a>, unless it should be assigned to the close +of the previous year (see the note to the poem, <a href="#Page_11">p. 11</a>), <a href="#THE_HORN_OF_EGREMONT_CASTLE"><i>The Horn +of Egremont Castle</i></a>, the three poems composed in London in +the spring of the year (April or May)—viz. <a href="#STRAY_PLEASURES"><i>Stray Pleasures</i></a>, +<a href="#POWER_OF_MUSIC"><i>Power of Music</i></a>, and <a href="#STAR-GAZERS"><i>Star-gazers</i></a>—the lines on the Mountain +Echo, those composed in expectation of the death of Mr. Fox, +and the <i>Ode, Intimations of Immortality</i>.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> Southey, in writing +to Sir Walter Scott, on the 4th of February 1806, said, +"Wordsworth has of late been more employed in correcting his +poems than in writing others."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> For reasons stated in the preface to vol. i. this Ode is printed in +vol. viii. at the close of the poems.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="TO_THE_SPADE_OF_A_FRIEND" id="TO_THE_SPADE_OF_A_FRIEND"></a>TO THE SPADE OF A FRIEND</h2> + +<h4>(<span class="smcap">An Agriculturist</span>)</h4> + +<p class="center">COMPOSED WHILE WE WERE LABOURING<a name="FNanchor_A_10" id="FNanchor_A_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_10" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> TOGETHER IN HIS +PLEASURE-GROUND</p> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[This person was Thomas Wilkinson, a Quaker by religious +profession; by natural constitution of mind—or, shall I venture +to say, by God's grace? he was something better. He had +inherited a small estate, and built a house upon it, near Yanwath, +upon the banks of the Emont. I have heard him say that his +heart used to beat, in his boyhood, when he heard the sound of +a drum and fife. Nevertheless the spirit of adventure in him +confined itself in tilling his ground, and conquering such +obstacles as stood in the way of its fertility. Persons of his +religious persuasion do now, in a far greater degree than formerly, +attach themselves to trade and commerce. He kept the old +track. As represented in this poem, he employed his leisure +hours in shaping pleasant walks by the side of his beloved river, +where he also built something between a hermitage and a +summer house, attaching to it inscriptions after the manner of +Shenstone at his Leasowes. He used to travel from time to +time, partly from love of Nature, and partly with religious +friends, in the service of humanity. His admiration of genius +in every department did him much honour. Through his +connection with the family in which Edmund Burke was +educated, he became acquainted with that great man, who used +to receive him with great kindness and condescension; and +many times I have heard Wilkinson speak of those interesting +interviews. He was honoured also by the friendship of Elizabeth +Smith, and of Thomas Clarkson and his excellent wife, and +was much esteemed by Lord and Lady Lonsdale, and every +member of that family. Among his verses (he wrote many) are +some worthy of preservation; one little poem in particular,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +upon disturbing, by prying curiosity, a bird while hatching her +young in his garden. The latter part of this innocent and good +man's life was melancholy. He became blind, and also poor, +by becoming surety for some of his relations. He was a +bachelor. He bore, as I have often witnessed, his calamities +with unfailing resignation. I will only add, that while working +in one of his fields, he unearthed a stone of considerable size, +then another, then two more; observing that they had been +placed in order, as if forming the segment of a circle, he +proceeded carefully to uncover the soil, and brought into view +a beautiful Druid's temple, of perfect, though small dimensions. +In order to make his farm more compact, he exchanged this +field for another, and, I am sorry to add, the new proprietor +destroyed this interesting relic of remote ages for some vulgar +purpose. The fact, so far as concerns Thomas Wilkinson, is +mentioned in the note on a sonnet on <i>Long Meg and her +Daughters</i>.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spade! with which Wilkinson hath tilled his lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shaped these pleasant walks by Emont's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art a tool of honour in my hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I press thee, through the yielding soil, with pride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rare master has it been thy lot to know; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long hast Thou served a man to reason true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose life combines the best of high and low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The labouring<a name="FNanchor_1_2" id="FNanchor_1_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_2" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> many and the resting few;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Health, meekness, ardour, quietness secure,<a name="FNanchor_2_3" id="FNanchor_2_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_3" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And industry of body and of mind; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And elegant enjoyments, that are pure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As nature is;—too pure to be refined.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here often hast Thou heard the Poet sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In concord with his river murmuring by;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Or in some silent field, while timid spring <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is yet uncheered by other minstrelsy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who shall inherit Thee when death has<a name="FNanchor_3_4" id="FNanchor_3_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_4" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low in the darksome cell thine own dear lord?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That man will have a trophy, humble Spade!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A trophy nobler than a conqueror's sword.<a name="FNanchor_4_5" id="FNanchor_4_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_5" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If he be one that feels, with skill to part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">False praise from true, or, greater from the less,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee will he welcome to his hand and heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou monument of peaceful happiness!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He will not dread with Thee a toilsome day— <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee his loved servant, his inspiring mate!<a name="FNanchor_5_6" id="FNanchor_5_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_6" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, when thou art past service, worn away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No dull oblivious nook shall hide thy fate.<a name="FNanchor_6_7" id="FNanchor_6_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_7" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His thrift thy uselessness<a name="FNanchor_7_8" id="FNanchor_7_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_8" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> will never scorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An <i>heir-loom</i> in his cottage wilt thou be:— <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">High will he hang thee up, well pleased to adorn<a name="FNanchor_8_9" id="FNanchor_8_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_9" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His rustic chimney with the last of Thee!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Thomas Wilkinson of Yanwath, the friend of Wordsworth +and the subject of these verses, deserves more than a passing note.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i13h">He was a man</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Whom no one could have passed without remark.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>One of the old race of Cumbrian "Statesmen"—men who owned, +and themselves cultivated, small bits of land (see Wordsworth's +letter on <i>The Brothers</i> and <i>Michael</i>, vol. ii. p. 234)—he +was Wordsworth's senior by nineteen years, and lived on +a patrimonial farm of about forty acres, on the banks of +the Emont,—the stream which, flowing out of Ullswater, +divides Cumberland from Westmoreland. He was a Friend, +and used to travel great distances to attend religious conferences, +or engage in philanthropic work,—on one occasion +riding on his pony from Yanwath to London, to the yearly +meeting of the Friends; and, on another, walking the 300 +miles to town, in eight days, for the same purpose. A +simple, genuine nature; serene, refined, hospitable, naïve, and +humorous withal; a quaint original man, with a true eye for +Nature, a keen relish for rural life (especially for gardening) and +a happy knack of characterization, whether he undertook +descriptions of scenery in the course of his travels, or narrated +the incidents which befell him on the way. This is how he +writes of his farm, and his work upon it:—"We have at length +some traces of spring (6th April 1784); the primrose under the +hedge begins to open her modest flower, the buds begin to +swell, and the birds to build; yet we have still a wide horizon, +the mountain tops resign not their snows. The happiest season +of the year with me is now commencing—I mean that in which +I am at the plough; my horses pace slowly on before, the larks +sing above my head, and the furrow falls at my side, and the +face of Nature and my own mind seem to wear a sweet and +cheerful tranquillity."</p> + +<p>The following extract shows the interest which he took in +the very implements of his industry, and may serve as an +illustration of Wordsworth's stanzas on his "spade." "Eighth +month, 16th, 1789. Yesterday I parted without regret from +an old acquaintance—I set by my scythe for this year. I have +often this season seen the dark blue mountains before the sun +and his rising embroider them with gold. I have had many a +good sleep in the shade among fragrant grass and refreshing +breezes, and though closely engaged in what may be thought +heavy work, I was sensible of the enjoyments of life with uninterrupted +health." In the closing years of the last century, +when the spirit of patriotic ardour was so thoroughly roused in +England by the restlessness of France and the ambition of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +Napoleon, he lived on at his pastoral farm, "busy with his +husbandry." In London, he made the acquaintance of Edmund +Burke; and Thomas Clarkson, the philanthropist,—whose +labours for the abolition of the slave trade are matter of history,—became +his intimate friend, and was a frequent visitor at +Yanwath. Clarkson afterwards bought an estate near to +Wilkinson's home, on the shores of Ullswater, where he built +a house, and named it Eusemere, and there the Wordsworths +were not infrequent guests. (See the note to the poem beginning +"I wandered lonely as a cloud," vol. iii. p. 5.) Wordsworth +stayed at Yanwath for two days in 1806. The <i>Tours +to the British Mountains, with the Descriptive Poems of +Lowther and Emont Vale</i> (London, 1824), have been referred +to in the note to <i>The Solitary Reaper</i>, vol. ii. p. 399, one of +the poems in the "Memorials of a Tour in Scotland, 1803." +It is an interesting volume—the prose much superior to the +verse—and might be reprinted with advantage. Wilkinson +was urged repeatedly to publish his "Tour through the Highlands," +but he always declined, and it was printed at last without +his knowledge, by some one to whom he had lent his MS.</p> + +<p>Wilkinson's relations to Wordsworth are alluded to in the +note to <i>The Solitary Reaper</i>. He is occasionally referred to in +Dorothy Wordsworth's Grasmere Journal of January and March +1802, <i>e.g.</i>:—"Monday, 12th March.—The ground covered +with snow. Walked to T. Wilkinson's and sent for letters. +The woman brought me one from Wm. and Mary. It was a +sharp windy night. Thomas Wilkinson came with me to +Barton, and questioned me like a catechiser all the way. Every +question was like the snapping of a little thread about my heart. +I was so full of thought of my half-read letter and other things."</p> + +<p>The following are extracts from letters of Wilkinson to Miss +Mary Leadbeater of Ballintore:—"Yanwath, 15. 2. 1801.—I +had lately a young Poet seeing me that sprang originally from +the next village. He has left the College, turned his back on +all preferment, and settled down contentedly among our Lakes, +with his Sister and his Muse. He ... writes in what he +conceives to be the language of Nature in opposition to the +finery of our present poetry. He has published two volumes of +Poems, mostly of the same character. His name is William +Wordsworth." In a letter, dated 29. 1. 1809, the following +occurs:—"Thou hast wished to have W. Wordsworth's Lines +on my Spade, which I shall transcribe thee. I had promised +Lord Lonsdale to take him to Lowther, when he came to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +me, but when we arrived he was gone to shoot moor-game with +Judge Sutton. William and I then returned, and wrought +together at a walk I was then forming, which gave birth to his +Verses." The expression "sprang from the next village" +might not be intended to mean that he was born there; or, if +it did, the fact that Wordsworth's mother was a native of +Penrith, and his own visits to that town, might account for the +mistake of one who had made no minute enquiry as to the poet's +birthplace. He was born at Cockermouth. Compare an +interesting account of Thomas Wilkinson, by Mary Carr, reprinted +from the <i>Friends' Quarterly Examiner</i>, 1882.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_2" id="Footnote_1_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_2"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... toiling ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_3" id="Footnote_2_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_3"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Health, quiet, meekness, ardour, hope secure, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_4" id="Footnote_3_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_4"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... hath ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_5" id="Footnote_4_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_5"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">More noble than the noblest Warrior's sword. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_6" id="Footnote_5_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_6"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">With Thee he will not dread a toilsome day,</span><br /> +<span class="var">His powerful Servant, his inspiring Mate! <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_7" id="Footnote_6_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_7"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Thee a surviving soul shall consecrate. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_8" id="Footnote_7_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_8"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... usefulness ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1832 resumes that of 1807, but the edition of 1837 +returns to the final text of 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_9" id="Footnote_8_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_9"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... and will adorn <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_10" id="Footnote_A_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_10"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In a letter to Wilkinson, accompanying a copy of these verses, which +Wordsworth sent from Coleorton, in November 1806, he wrote: "They are +supposed to have been composed that afternoon when you and I were labouring +together in your pleasure-ground." I think that Professor Dowden is +right in supposing that they were written in 1806.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHARACTER_OF_THE_HAPPY_WARRIOR" id="CHARACTER_OF_THE_HAPPY_WARRIOR"></a>CHARACTER OF THE HAPPY WARRIOR</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[The course of the great war with the French naturally fixed +one's attention upon the military character, and, to the honour +of our country, there were many illustrious instances of the +qualities that constitute its highest excellence. Lord Nelson +carried most of the virtues that the trials he was exposed to in +his department of the service necessarily call forth and sustain, +if they do not produce the contrary vices. But his public life +was stained with one great crime, so that though many passages +of these lines were suggested by what was generally known as +excellent in his conduct, I have not been able to connect his +name with the poem as I could wish, or even to think of him +with satisfaction in reference to the idea of what a warrior ought +to be. For the sake of such of my friends as may happen to +read this note, I will add that many elements of the character +here pourtrayed were found in my brother John, who perished +by shipwreck, as mentioned elsewhere. His messmates used to +call him the Philosopher, from which it must be inferred that +the qualities and dispositions I allude to had not escaped their +notice. He often expressed his regret, after the war had +continued some time, that he had not chosen the Naval, instead +of the East India Company's, service, to which his family +connection had led him. He greatly valued moral and religious +instruction for youth, as tending to make good sailors. The +best, he used to say, came from Scotland; the next to them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +from the North of England, especially from Westmoreland and +Cumberland, where, thanks to the piety and local attachments +of our ancestors, endowed, or, as they are commonly called, +free, schools abound.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Classed among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That<a name="FNanchor_1_11" id="FNanchor_1_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_11" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> every man in arms should wish to be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the plan that pleased his boyish<a name="FNanchor_2_12" id="FNanchor_2_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_12" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> thought: <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose high endeavours are an inward light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That makes<a name="FNanchor_3_13" id="FNanchor_3_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_13" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> the path before him always bright:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, with a natural instinct to discern<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abides by this resolve, and stops not there, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But makes his moral being his prime care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, doomed to go in company with Pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turns his necessity to glorious gain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In face of these doth exercise a power <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which is our human nature's highest dower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of their bad influence, and their good receives:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By objects, which might force the soul to abate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her feeling, rendered more compassionate; <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is placable—because occasions rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So often that demand such sacrifice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As tempted more; more able to endure,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">As more exposed to suffering and distress; <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thence, also, more alive to tenderness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—'Tis he whose law is reason; who depends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon that law as on the best of friends;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence, in a state where men are tempted still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To evil for a guard against worse ill, <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what in quality or act is best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth seldom on a right foundation rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He labours good on good to fix,<a name="FNanchor_4_14" id="FNanchor_4_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_14" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> and owes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To virtue every triumph that he knows:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Who, if he rise to station of command, <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rises by open means; and there will stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On honourable terms, or else retire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in himself possess his own desire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who comprehends his trust, and to the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim; <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And therefore does not stoop, nor lie in wait<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For wealth, or honours, or for worldly state;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom they must follow; on whose head must fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like showers of manna, if they come at all:<a name="FNanchor_A_17" id="FNanchor_A_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_17" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose powers shed round him in the common strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or mild concerns of ordinary life, <span class="linenum">46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A constant influence, a peculiar grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But who, if he be called upon to face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great issues, good or bad for human kind, <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is happy as a Lover; and attired<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sudden brightness, like a Man inspired;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or if an unexpected call succeed, <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come when it will, is equal to the need:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—He who, though thus endued as with a sense<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faculty for storm and turbulence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is yet a Soul whose master-bias leans<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To homefelt pleasures and to gentle scenes; <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet images! which, wheresoe'er he be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are at his heart; and such fidelity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is his darling passion to approve;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More brave for this, that he hath much to love:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis, finally, the Man, who, lifted high, <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or left unthought-of in obscurity,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, with a toward or untoward lot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plays, in the many games of life, that one <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where what he most doth value must be won:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom neither shape of danger can dismay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor thought of tender happiness betray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, not content that former worth stand fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks forward, persevering to the last, <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From well to better, daily self-surpast:<a name="FNanchor_B_18" id="FNanchor_B_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_18" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever, and to noble deeds give birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or he must fall, to sleep without his fame,<a name="FNanchor_5_15" id="FNanchor_5_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_15" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave a dead unprofitable name— <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Finds comfort in himself and in his cause;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the happy Warrior; this is He<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That<a name="FNanchor_6_16" id="FNanchor_6_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_16" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> every Man in arms should wish to be. <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The following note was appended by Wordsworth in the edition +of 1807. "The above Verses were written soon after tidings +had been received of the Death of Lord Nelson, which event +directed the Author's thoughts to the subject. His respect for +the memory of his great fellow-countryman induces him to +mention this; though he is well aware that the Verses must +suffer from any connection in the Reader's mind with a Name +so illustrious."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>This note would seem to warrant our removing the date of +the composition of the poem from 1806 to 1805; since Lord +Nelson died at the battle of Trafalgar, on the 21st of October +1805. On the other hand, Wordsworth himself gave the date +1806; and the "soon after" of the above note may perhaps be +stretched to include two months and a half. In writing to Sir +George Beaumont on the 11th of February 1806, and enclosing +a copy of these verses, he says, "they were written several +weeks ago." Southey, writing to Sir Walter Scott, from Keswick, +on the 4th of February 1806, says, "Wordsworth was +with me last week; he has of late been more employed in +correcting his poems than in writing others; but one piece he +has written, upon the ideal character of a soldier, than which +I have never seen anything more full of meaning and sound +thought. The subject was suggested by Nelson's most glorious +death, though having no reference to it. He had some thoughts +of sending it to <i>The Courier</i>, in which case you will easily +recognise his hand." (<i>The Life and Correspondence of Robert +Southey</i>, vol. iii. p. 19.) As it is impossible to decide with +accuracy, in the absence of more definite data, I follow the +poet's own statement, and assign it to the year 1806.</p> + +<p>Wordsworth tells us that features in the character, both of +Lord Nelson and of his own brother John, are delineated in this +poem. Mr. William Davies writes to me, "He might very +well have set the name of Cuthbert, Lord Collingwood, Nelson's +contemporary, at the head of the poem, as embodying its spirit +and lofty rule of life."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_11" id="Footnote_1_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_11"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Whom ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_12" id="Footnote_2_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_12"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... childish ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_13" id="Footnote_3_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_13"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1832. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... make ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_14" id="Footnote_4_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_14"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">He fixes good on good alone, ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_15" id="Footnote_5_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_15"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1840. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Or He must go to dust without his fame, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Or he must fall and sleep without his fame, <span class="yearnum">1837.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_16" id="Footnote_6_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_16"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Whom ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_17" id="Footnote_A_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_17"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare Pope's <i>Temple of Fame</i> (ll. 513, 514)— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favours call;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">She comes unlook'd for, if she comes at all.</span><br /> +</div></div><p> +And Carew's <i>Epistle to the Countess of Anglesie</i> (ll. 57, 58)— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He chose not in the active stream to swim,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Nor hunted Honour, which yet hunted him.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_18" id="Footnote_B_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_18"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> In the edition of 1807, the following note was added to these lines:— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For Knightes ever should be persevering,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To seeke honour without feintise or slouth,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Fro wele to better in all manner thinge.</span> +</div></div> +<p class="bindent"> +<span class="smcap">Chaucer</span>—<i>The Floure and the Leafe.</i>—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span> +</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_HORN_OF_EGREMONT_CASTLE" id="THE_HORN_OF_EGREMONT_CASTLE"></a>THE HORN OF EGREMONT CASTLE</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[A Tradition transferred from the ancient mansion of Hutton +John, the seat of the Huddlestones, to Egremont Castle.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>In 1815 this poem was placed among those "of the +Imagination"; in 1845 it was transferred to the class of +"Miscellaneous Poems."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ere the Brothers through the gateway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Issued forth with old and young,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Horn Sir Eustace pointed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which for ages there had hung.<a name="FNanchor_1_19" id="FNanchor_1_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_19" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Horn it was which none could sound, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No one upon living ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save He who came as rightful Heir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Egremont's Domains and Castle fair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heirs from times of earliest record<a name="FNanchor_2_20" id="FNanchor_2_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_20" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had the House of Lucie born, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who of right had held the Lordship<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Claimed by proof upon the Horn:<a name="FNanchor_3_21" id="FNanchor_3_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_21" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Each at the appointed hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tried the Horn,—it owned his power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was acknowledged: and the blast, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which good Sir Eustace sounded, was the last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With his lance Sir Eustace pointed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to Hubert thus said he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What I speak this Horn shall witness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thy better memory. <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear, then, and neglect me not!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At this time, and on this spot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The words are uttered from my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As my last earnest prayer ere we depart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"On good service we are going <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life to risk by sea and land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which course if Christ our Saviour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do my sinful soul demand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hither come thou back straightway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hubert, if alive that day; <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Return, and sound the Horn, that we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May have a living House still left in thee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fear not," quickly answered Hubert;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"As I am thy Father's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What thou askest, noble Brother, <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With God's favour shall be done."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So were both right well content:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth they from the Castle went,<a name="FNanchor_4_22" id="FNanchor_4_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_22" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the head of their Array<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Palestine the Brothers took their way. <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Side by side they fought (the Lucies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were a line for valour famed)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where'er their strokes alighted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There the Saracens were tamed.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Whence, then, could it come—the thought— <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By what evil spirit brought?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! can a brave Man wish to take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Brother's life, for Lands' and Castle's sake?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sir!" the Ruffians said to Hubert,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Deep he lies in Jordan flood." <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stricken by this ill assurance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale and trembling Hubert stood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Take your earnings."—Oh! that I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could have <i>seen</i><a name="FNanchor_5_23" id="FNanchor_5_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_23" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> my Brother die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was a pang that vexed him then; <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft returned, again, and yet again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Months passed on, and no Sir Eustace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor of him were tidings heard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, bold as day, the Murderer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back again to England steered. <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his Castle Hubert sped;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing has he<a name="FNanchor_6_24" id="FNanchor_6_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_24" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> now to dread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But silent and by stealth he came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at an hour which nobody could name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">None could tell if it were night-time, <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night or day, at even or morn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No one's eye had seen him enter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No one's ear had heard the Horn.<a name="FNanchor_7_25" id="FNanchor_7_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_25" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bold Hubert lives in glee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Months and years went smilingly; <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With plenty was his table spread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bright the Lady is who shares his bed.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Likewise he had sons and daughters;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as good men do, he sate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At his board by these surrounded, <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flourishing in fair estate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while thus in open day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once he sate, as old books say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A blast was uttered from the Horn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where by the Castle-gate it hung forlorn. <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis the breath of good Sir Eustace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is come to claim his right:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ancient castle, woods, and mountains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear the challenge with delight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hubert! though the blast be blown <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is helpless and alone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast a dungeon, speak the word!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he may be lodged, and thou be Lord.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Speak!—astounded Hubert cannot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, if power to speak he had, <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All are daunted, all the household<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smitten to the heart, and sad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis Sir Eustace; if it be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Living man, it must be he!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus Hubert thought in his dismay, <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by a postern-gate he slunk away.<a name="FNanchor_8_26" id="FNanchor_8_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_26" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long, and long was he unheard of:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his Brother then he came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made confession, asked forgiveness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Asked it by a brother's name, <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by all the saints in heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of Eustace was forgiven:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then in a convent went to hide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His melancholy head, and there he died.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Sir Eustace, whom good angels <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had preserved from murderers' hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from Pagan chains had rescued,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lived with honour on his lands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sons he had, saw sons of theirs:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through ages, heirs of heirs, <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A long posterity renowned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sounded the Horn which they alone could sound.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The following note is appended to this poem in the edition +of 1807, and in those of 1836 to 1850:—</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"This Story is a Cumberland tradition; I have heard it also +related of the Hall of Hutton John, an antient residence of the +Huddlestones, in a sequestered Valley upon the River Dacor."</p> + +<p>Egremont Castle, to which this Cumberland tradition was +transferred, is close to the town of Egremont, an ancient +borough on the river Ehen, not far from St. Bees. The castle +was founded about the beginning of the twelfth century, by +William, brother of Ranulph de Meschines, who bestowed on +William the whole of the extensive barony of Copeland. The +gateway of the castle is vaulted with semi-circular arches, and +defended by a strong tower. Westward from the castle area is +an ascent to three narrow gates, standing in a line, and close +together. These communicated with the outworks, each being +defended by a portcullis. Beyond the gates is an artificial +mound, seventy-eight feet above the moat; and on this stood +an ancient circular tower. (See a description of the castle in +Britton and Brayley's <i>Cumberland</i>.) The river Dacor, or +Dacre, referred to in Wordsworth's note, joins the Emont a +short way below Ullswater; and the hall of Hutton John, +which in the reign of Edward III. belonged to the barony of +Graystock, passed in the time of Elizabeth to the Huddlestones. +The famous Catholic father, John Huddlestone, chaplain to +Charles II. and James II., was of this family.</p> + +<p>In the edition of 1815, there is the following footnote to the +title of the poem:—"This Poem and the Ballad which follows +it" (it was that of <i>Goody Blake and Harry Gill</i>), "as they +rather refer to the imagination than are produced by it, would +not have been placed here" (<i>i.e.</i> among the "Poems of the +Imagination"), "but to avoid a needless multiplication of the +Classes."</p> + +<p>The text of 1807 underwent no change until 1845. But—as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +is shown by the notes in the late Lord Coleridge's copy of the +edition of 1836—the alterations subsequently adopted in 1845 +were made in the interval between these years.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_19" id="Footnote_1_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_19"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">When the Brothers reach'd the gateway,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Eustace pointed with his lance</span><br /> +<span class="var">To the Horn which there was hanging;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Horn of the inheritance. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">When the Brothers reached the gateway,</span><br /> +<span class="var">With their followers old and young,</span><br /> +<span class="var">To the Horn Sir Eustace pointed</span><br /> +<span class="var">That for ages there had hung. <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">C.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_20" id="Footnote_2_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_20"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Heirs from ages without record <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_21" id="Footnote_3_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_21"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Who of right had claim'd the Lordship</span><br /> +<span class="var">By the proof upon the Horn: <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var9h">... held ...</span> +<span class="var">Claimed by proof ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">C.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_22" id="Footnote_4_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_22"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">From the Castle forth they went. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_23" id="Footnote_5_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_23"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>Italics</i> were first used in 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_24" id="Footnote_6_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_24"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">He has nothing <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_25" id="Footnote_7_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_25"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">For the sound was heard by no one</span><br /> +<span class="var">Of the proclamation-horn. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_26" id="Footnote_8_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_26"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... slipped away. <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_COMPLAINT" id="A_COMPLAINT"></a>A COMPLAINT</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[Written at Town-end, Grasmere. Suggested by a change +in the manner of a friend.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Classed among the "Poems founded on the Affections."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is a change—and I am poor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your love hath been, nor long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fountain at my fond heart's door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose only business was to flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flow it did; not taking heed <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of its own bounty, or my need.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What happy moments did I count!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blest was I then all bliss above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, for that<a name="FNanchor_1_27" id="FNanchor_1_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_27" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> consecrated fount<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of murmuring, sparkling, living love, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What have I? shall I dare to tell?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A comfortless and hidden well.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A well of love—it may be deep—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I trust it is,—and never dry:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What matter? if the waters sleep <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In silence and obscurity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Such change, and at the very door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of my fond heart, hath made me poor.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It is highly probable that the friend was S. T. Coleridge. +See the <i>Life of Wordsworth</i> (1889), vol. ii. pp. 166, 167.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_27" id="Footnote_1_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_27"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... this ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="STRAY_PLEASURES" id="STRAY_PLEASURES"></a>STRAY PLEASURES</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[Suggested on the Thames by the sight of one of those +floating mills that used to be seen there. This I noticed on +the Surrey side between Somerset House and Blackfriars' +Bridge. Charles Lamb was with me at the time; and I +thought it remarkable that I should have to point out to <i>him</i>, +an idolatrous Londoner, a sight so interesting as the happy +group dancing on the platform. Mills of this kind used to be, +and perhaps still are, not uncommon on the continent. I +noticed several upon the river Saone in the year 1799, particularly +near the town of Chalons, where my friend Jones and +I halted a day when we crossed France; so far on foot; there +we embarked, and floated down to Lyons.—I. F.]</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"<i>——Pleasure is spread through the earth</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.</i>"</span> +</div></div> + +<p>One of the "Poems of the Fancy." The title <i>Stray +Pleasures</i> was first given in the edition of 1820. In 1807 and +1815 the poem had no title; but in the original MS. it was +called "Dancers."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">By their floating mill,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">That<a name="FNanchor_1_28" id="FNanchor_1_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_28" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> lies dead and still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold yon Prisoners three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Miller with two Dames, on the breast of the Thames!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The platform is small, but gives room<a name="FNanchor_2_29" id="FNanchor_2_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_29" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> for them all; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they're dancing merrily.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">From the shore come the notes<br /></span> +<span class="i3">To their mill where it floats,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To their house and their mill tethered fast:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the small wooden isle where, their work to beguile, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span><span class="i0">They from morning to even take whatever is given;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a blithe day they have past.<a name="FNanchor_3_30" id="FNanchor_3_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_30" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">In sight of the spires,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">All alive with the fires<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the sun going down to his rest, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the broad open eye of the solitary sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They dance,—there are three, as jocund as free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While they dance on the calm river's breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Man and Maidens wheel,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">They themselves make the reel, <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their music's a prey which they seize;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It plays not for them,—what matter? 'tis theirs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if they had care, it has scattered their cares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While they dance, crying, "Long as ye please!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">They dance not for me,<span class="linenum">25</span></span><br /> +<span class="i3">Yet mine is their glee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus pleasure is spread through the earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus a rich loving-kindness, redundantly kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moves all nature to gladness and mirth. <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">The showers of the spring<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Rouse the birds, and they sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the wind do but stir for his proper delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each leaf, that and this, his neighbour will kiss;<a name="FNanchor_A_31" id="FNanchor_A_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_31" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each wave, one and t'other, speeds after his brother; <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are happy, for that is their right!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> +<p>Wordsworth went up to London in April 1806, where he +stayed two months. It was, doubtless, on that occasion that +these lines were written. The year mentioned in the Fenwick +note is incorrect. It was in 1790 that Wordsworth crossed +France with his friend Jones.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_28" id="Footnote_1_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_28"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Which ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_29" id="Footnote_2_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_29"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... but there's room ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_30" id="Footnote_3_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_30"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... with whatever be given;—</span><br /> +<span class="var">Full many a blithe day have past. <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_31" id="Footnote_A_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_31"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare Michael Drayton, <i>The Muse's Elysium</i>, nymphal vi. ll. 4-7— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind had no more strength than this,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">That leisurely it blew,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To make one leaf the next to kiss</span><br /> +<span class="i0">That closely by it grew.</span> +</div></div><p> +Wordsworth frequently confessed his obligation to Dr. Anderson—the +editor of the <i>British Poets</i>—for enabling him to acquaint himself with the +poetry of Drayton, and other early English writers.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="POWER_OF_MUSIC" id="POWER_OF_MUSIC"></a>POWER OF MUSIC</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[Taken from life.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Classed among the "Poems of the Imagination." The +original title in MS. was "A Street Fiddler (in London)."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An Orpheus! an Orpheus! yes, Faith may grow bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take to herself all the wonders of old;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His station is there; and he works on the crowd, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sways them with harmony merry and loud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He fills with his power all their hearts to the brim—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was aught ever heard like his fiddle and him?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What an eager assembly! what an empire is this!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weary have life, and the hungry have bliss; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mourner is cheered, and the anxious have rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the guilt-burthened soul is no longer opprest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the Moon brightens round her the clouds of the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So He, where he stands, is a centre of light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It gleams on the face, there, of dusky-browed<a name="FNanchor_1_32" id="FNanchor_1_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_32" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Jack, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the pale-visaged Baker's, with basket on back.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That errand-bound 'Prentice was passing in haste—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What matter! he's caught—and his time runs to waste;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Newsman is stopped, though he stops on the fret;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the half-breathless Lamplighter—he's in the net! <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span><span class="i0">The Porter sits down on the weight which he bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lass with her barrow wheels hither her store;<a name="FNanchor_2_33" id="FNanchor_2_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_33" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If a thief could be here he might pilfer at ease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sees the Musician, 'tis all that she sees! <span class="linenum">24</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He stands, backed by the wall;—he abates not his din;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hat gives him vigour, with boons dropping in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the old and the young, from the poorest; and there!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one-pennied Boy has his penny to spare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O blest are the hearers, and proud be the hand <span class="linenum">29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the pleasure it spreads through so thankful a band;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am glad for him, blind as he is!—all the while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If they speak 'tis to praise, and they praise with a smile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That tall Man, a giant in bulk and in height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not an inch of his body is free from delight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can he keep himself still, if he would? oh, not he! <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The music stirs in him like wind through a tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mark that Cripple<a name="FNanchor_3_34" id="FNanchor_3_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_34" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> who leans on his crutch; like a tower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That long has leaned forward, leans hour after hour!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Mother,<a name="FNanchor_4_35" id="FNanchor_4_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_35" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> whose spirit in fetters is bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While she dandles the Babe in her arms to the sound. <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, coaches and chariots! roar on like a stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here are twenty souls happy as souls in a dream:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are deaf to your murmurs—they care not for you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor what ye are flying, nor<a name="FNanchor_5_36" id="FNanchor_5_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_36" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> what ye pursue!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This must be assigned to the same London visit, in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +spring of 1806, referred to in the note to the previous +poem.</p> + +<p>Charles Lamb wrote to Wordsworth in 1815, "Your <i>Power +of Music</i> reminded me of his" (Bourne's) "poem of <i>The Ballad +Singer in the Seven Dials</i>."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_32" id="Footnote_1_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_32"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... dusky-faced ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_33" id="Footnote_2_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_33"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... for store;— <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_34" id="Footnote_3_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_34"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">There's a Cripple ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_35" id="Footnote_4_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_35"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A Mother, ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_36" id="Footnote_5_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_36"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... or ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="STAR-GAZERS" id="STAR-GAZERS"></a>STAR-GAZERS</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[Observed by me in Leicester-square, as here described.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Poems of the Imagination."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What crowd<a name="FNanchor_1_37" id="FNanchor_1_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_37" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> is this? what have we here! we must not<a name="FNanchor_2_38" id="FNanchor_2_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_38" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> pass it by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Telescope upon its frame, and pointed to the sky:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long is it as a barber's pole, or mast of little boat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some little pleasure skiff, that doth on Thames's waters float.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Show-man chooses well his place, 'tis Leicester's busy Square; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is<a name="FNanchor_3_39" id="FNanchor_3_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_39" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> as happy in his night, for the heavens are blue and fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm, though impatient, is<a name="FNanchor_4_40" id="FNanchor_4_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_40" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> the crowd; each stands ready<a name="FNanchor_5_41" id="FNanchor_5_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_41" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> with the fee,</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span><span class="i0">And envies him that's looking<a name="FNanchor_6_42" id="FNanchor_6_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_42" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>;—what an insight must it be!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, Show-man, where can lie<a name="FNanchor_7_43" id="FNanchor_7_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_43" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> the cause? Shall thy Implement have blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A boaster, that when he is tried, fails, and is put to shame? <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is it good as others are, and be their eyes in fault?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their eyes, or minds? or, finally, is yon<a name="FNanchor_8_44" id="FNanchor_8_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_44" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> resplendent vault?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is nothing of that radiant pomp so good as we have here?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or gives a thing but small delight that never can be dear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silver moon with all her vales, and hills of mightiest fame, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth she betray us when they're seen? or<a name="FNanchor_9_45" id="FNanchor_9_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_45" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> are they but a name?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or is it rather that Conceit rapacious is and strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bounty never yields<a name="FNanchor_10_46" id="FNanchor_10_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_46" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> so much but it seems to do her wrong?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is it, that when human Souls a journey long have had</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And are returned into themselves, they cannot but be sad?<a name="FNanchor_A_51" id="FNanchor_A_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_51" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or must we be constrained to think that these Spectators rude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor in estate, of manners base, men of the multitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have souls which never yet have risen, and therefore prostrate lie?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, no, this cannot be;—men thirst for power and majesty!<a name="FNanchor_11_47" id="FNanchor_11_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_47" class="fnanchor">[11]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Does, then, a deep and earnest thought<a name="FNanchor_12_48" id="FNanchor_12_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_48" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> the blissful mind employ <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him who gazes, or has gazed? a grave and steady joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That doth reject all show of pride, admits no outward sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because not of this noisy world, but silent and divine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whatever be the cause,<a name="FNanchor_13_49" id="FNanchor_13_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_49" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> 'tis sure that they who pry and pore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem to meet with little gain, seem less happy than before: <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span><span class="i0">One after One they take their turn,<a name="FNanchor_14_50" id="FNanchor_14_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_50" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> nor have I one espied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That doth not slackly go away, as if dissatisfied.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Doubtless "observed" during the visit to London in April +and May 1806.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_37" id="Footnote_1_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_37"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">What throng ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_38" id="Footnote_2_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_38"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1807 +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... we cannot ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_39" id="Footnote_3_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_39"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And he's ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_40" id="Footnote_4_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_40"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... are ...</span> +</div></div><p> +MS. letter, D. W. to Lady Beaumont, Nov. 15, 1806.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_41" id="Footnote_5_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_41"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... Each is ready ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_42" id="Footnote_6_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_42"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Impatient till his moment comes— ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... come;— ... <span class="yearnum">1836.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1840 returns to that of 1807.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_43" id="Footnote_7_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_43"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... be ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_44" id="Footnote_8_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_44"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> 1832. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... this ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +And MS. letter, D. W. to Lady Beaumont, Nov. 15, 1806.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_45" id="Footnote_9_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_45"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Do they betray us when they're seen? and ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +And MS. letter, D. W. to Lady Beaumont, Nov. 15, 1806.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_46" id="Footnote_10_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_46"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... cannot yield ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_47" id="Footnote_11_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_47"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Or is it but unwelcome thought! that these Spectators rude,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Poor in estate, of manners base, men of the multitude,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Have souls which never yet have risen, and therefore prostrate lie,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Not to be lifted up at once to power and majesty?</span> +</div></div><p> +MS. letter, D. W. to Lady Beaumont, Nov. 15, 1806.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_48" id="Footnote_12_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_48"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Or does some deep and earnest joy ...</span> +</div></div><p> +MS. letter, D. W. to Lady Beaumont, Nov. 15, 1806.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_49" id="Footnote_13_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_49"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Whate'er the cause may be, ...</span> +</div></div><p> +MS. letter, D. W. to Lady Beaumont, Nov. 15, 1806.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_50" id="Footnote_14_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_50"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... turns, ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +And MS. letter, D. W. to Lady Beaumont, Nov. 15, 1806.</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_51" id="Footnote_A_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_51"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> "Compare Shelley's statement in <i>Julian and Maddalo</i>—where he speaks +of material not spiritual voyaging—that coming homeward 'always makes +the spirit tame'" (Professor Dowden).</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="YES_IT_WAS_THE_MOUNTAIN_ECHO" id="YES_IT_WAS_THE_MOUNTAIN_ECHO"></a>"YES, IT WAS THE MOUNTAIN ECHO"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[Written at Town-end, Grasmere. The echo came from +Nab-scar, when I was walking on the opposite side of Rydal +Mere. I will here mention, for my dear Sister's sake, that, +while she was sitting alone one day high up on this part of Loughrigg +Fell, she was so affected by the voice of the Cuckoo heard +from the crags at some distance that she could not suppress a +wish to have a stone inscribed with her name among the rocks +from which the sound proceeded. On my return from my +walk I recited these verses to Mrs. Wordsworth.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Classed among the "Poems of the Imagination."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, it was the mountain Echo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solitary, clear, profound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answering to the shouting Cuckoo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giving to her sound for sound!<a name="FNanchor_1_52" id="FNanchor_1_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_52" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i5" style="padding-top: 1em;"><a name="FNanchor_2_53" id="FNanchor_2_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_53" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span><span class="i0">Unsolicited reply <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a babbling wanderer sent;<a name="FNanchor_3_54" id="FNanchor_3_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_54" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like her ordinary cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like—but oh, how different!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hears not also mortal Life?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear not we, unthinking Creatures! <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slaves of folly, love, or strife—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Voices of two different natures?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Have not <i>we</i><a name="FNanchor_4_55" id="FNanchor_4_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_55" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> too?—yes, we have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answers, and we know not whence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Echoes from beyond the grave, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recognised intelligence!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such rebounds our inward ear<a name="FNanchor_A_58" id="FNanchor_A_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_58" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Catches sometimes from afar—<a name="FNanchor_5_56" id="FNanchor_5_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_56" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listen, ponder, hold them dear;<a name="FNanchor_6_57" id="FNanchor_6_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_57" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For of God,—of God they are. <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The place where this echo was heard can easily be identified +by any one walking along the southern or Loughrigg shore of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +Rydal. The Fenwick note refers to a wish of Dorothy Wordsworth +to have her name inscribed on a stone among the rocks +of Loughrigg Fell. It is impossible to know whether it was +ever carried out or not. If it was, the place is undiscoverable, +like the spot on the banks of the Rotha, where Joanna's name +was graven "deep in the living rock," or the place where +Wordsworth carved his wife's initials (as recorded in Mrs. +Hemans' <i>Memoirs</i>), or where the daisy was found, which +suggested the lines beginning</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Small service is true service while it lasts;</span> +</div></div> + +<p>and it is well that they are undiscoverable. It is so easy for +posterity to vulgarise, by idle and unappreciative curiosity, +spots that are sacred only to the few who feel them to be +shrines. The very grave where Wordsworth rests runs the +risk of being thus abused by the unthinking crowd. But, in +the hope that no one will desecrate it, as the Rock of Names +has been injured, I may mention that there is a stone near +Rydal Mere, on the north-eastern slope of Loughrigg, with the +initial "M." deeply cut. The exact locality I need not more +minutely indicate.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_52" id="Footnote_1_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_52"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Yes! full surely 'twas the Echo,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Solitary, clear, profound,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Answering to Thee, shouting Cuckoo!</span><br /> +<span class="var">Giving to thee Sound for Sound. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_53" id="Footnote_2_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_53"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Whence the Voice? from air or earth?</span><br /> +<span class="var">This the Cuckoo cannot tell;</span><br /> +<span class="var">But a startling sound had birth,</span><br /> +<span class="var">As the Bird must know full well;</span> +</div></div><p> +Only in the edition of 1807.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_54" id="Footnote_3_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_54"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Like the voice through earth and sky</span><br /> +<span class="var">By the restless Cuckoo sent; <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_55" id="Footnote_4_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_55"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <i>Italics</i> were first used in the edition of 1836.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_56" id="Footnote_5_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_56"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Such within ourselves we hear</span><br /> +<span class="var">Oft-times, ours though sent from far; <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Such rebounds our inward ear</span><br /> +<span class="var">Often catches from afar;— <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Often as thy inward ear</span><br /> +<span class="var">Catches such rebounds, beware,— <span class="yearnum">1832.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_57" id="Footnote_6_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_57"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Giddy Mortals! hold them dear; <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The edition of 1832 returns to the text of 1807.</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_58" id="Footnote_A_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_58"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Writing to Barron Field about this stanza of the poem in 1827, Wordsworth +said, "The word 'rebounds' I wish much to introduce here; for the +imaginative warning turns upon the echo, which ought to be revived as +near the conclusion as possible."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NUNS_FRET_NOT_AT_THEIR_CONVENTS" id="NUNS_FRET_NOT_AT_THEIR_CONVENTS"></a>"NUNS FRET NOT AT THEIR CONVENT'S +NARROW ROOM"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[In the cottage, Town-end, Grasmere, one afternoon in 1801, +my sister read to me the sonnets of Milton. I had long been +well acquainted with them, but I was particularly struck on +that occasion with the dignified simplicity and majestic harmony +that runs through most of them,—in character so totally different +from the Italian, and still more so from Shakspeare's fine +sonnets. I took fire, if I may be allowed to say so, and produced +three sonnets the same afternoon, the first I ever wrote, +except an irregular one at school. Of these three, the only one +I distinctly remember is—"I grieved for Buonaparté." One +was never written down; the third, which was, I believe, preserved, +I cannot particularise.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>From 1807 to 1820 this was named <i>Prefatory Sonnet</i>, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +introducing the series of "Miscellaneous Sonnets" in these +editions. In 1827 it took its place as the first in that series, +following the Dedication <i>To ——</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hermits are contented with their cells;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And students with their pensive citadels;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit blithe and happy; bees that soar for bloom,<span class="linenum">5</span></span><br /> +<span class="i0">High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In truth the prison, unto which we doom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ourselves, no prison is:<a name="FNanchor_A_61" id="FNanchor_A_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_61" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> and hence for me,<a name="FNanchor_1_59" id="FNanchor_1_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_59" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sundry moods,'twas pastime to be bound <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the Sonnet's scanty plot of ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleased if some Souls (for such there needs must be)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who have felt the weight of too much liberty,<a name="FNanchor_B_62" id="FNanchor_B_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_62" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should find brief<a name="FNanchor_2_60" id="FNanchor_2_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_60" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> solace there, as I have found.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In Wordsworth's time "Furness-fells" was a generic phrase +for all the hills east of the Duddon, south of the Brathay, and +west of Windermere; including the Coniston group, Wetherlam, +with the Yewdale and Tilberthwaite fells. The district of +Furness, like that of Craven in Yorkshire, being originally +ecclesiastical, had a wide area, of which the abbey of Furness +was the centre.</p> + +<p>In the Fenwick note prefixed to this sonnet, Wordsworth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +refers to his earliest attempt at sonnet writing. He says he +wrote an irregular one at school, and the next were three +sonnets written one afternoon in Dove Cottage in the year 1801, +after his sister had read the sonnets of Milton. This note is +not, however, to be trusted. It was not in 1801, but on the +21st of May 1802, that his sister read to him these sonnets of +Milton; and he afterwards wrote not one but two sonnets on +Buonaparte. What the irregular sonnet written at school was +it is impossible to say, unless he refers to the one entitled, in +1807 and subsequent editions, <i>Written in Very Early Youth</i>; +and beginning—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>But on a copy of <i>An Evening Walk</i> (1793 edition) Wordsworth +wrote:—"This is the first of my published poems, with +the exception of a sonnet, written when I was a schoolboy, +and published in the <i>European Magazine</i> in June or July +1786, and signed Axiologus." Even as to this date his +memory was at fault. It was published in 1787, when he was +seventeen years of age. Its full title may be given; although, +for reasons already stated, it would be unjustifiable to republish +the sonnet, except in an appendix to the poems, and mainly for +its biographical interest. It was entitled, <i>Sonnet, on seeing +Miss Maria Williams weep at a Tale of Distress</i>. But, fully +ten years before the date mentioned by Dorothy Wordsworth in +her Grasmere Journal—as the day on which she read Milton's +sonnets to her brother, and on which he wrote the two on +Buonaparte—he had written others, the existence of which he +had evidently forgotten. On the 6th of May 1792, his sister +wrote thus from Forncett Rectory in Norfolk to her friend, Miss +Jane Pollard:—"I promised to transcribe some of William's +compositions. As I made the promise, I will give you a little +sonnet.... I take the first that offers. It is very valuable +to me, because the cause which gave birth to it was the favourite +evening walk of William and me.... I have not chosen +this sonnet from any particular beauty it has. <i>It was the first +I laid my hands upon.</i>" From the clause I have italicised, it +would almost seem that other sonnets belong to that period, +viz. before 1793, when <i>An Evening Walk</i> appeared. She +would hardly have spoken of it as she did, if this was the only +sonnet her brother had then written. Though very inferior to +his later work, this sonnet may be preserved as a specimen of +Wordsworth's earlier manner, before he had broken away, by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +the force of his own imagination, from the trammels of the conventional +style, which he inherited. It is printed in the +Appendix to volume viii.</p> + +<p>It will be seen that Wordsworth's memory cannot be always +relied upon, in reference to dates, and similar details, in the +Fenwick memoranda.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_59" id="Footnote_1_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_59"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1849. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... to me, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_60" id="Footnote_2_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_60"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... short ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_61" id="Footnote_A_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_61"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare in Lovelace's poem, <i>To Althea from Prison</i>— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stone walls do not a prison make,</span><br /> +<span class="i1">Nor iron bars a cage;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Minds innocent and quiet take</span><br /> +<span class="i1">That for a hermitage.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_62" id="Footnote_B_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_62"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Compare the line in the <i>Ode to Duty</i> vol. iii. p. 40— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Me this unchartered freedom tires.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PERSONAL_TALK" id="PERSONAL_TALK"></a>PERSONAL TALK</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[Written at Town-end, Grasmere. The last line but two +stood, at first, better and more characteristically, thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"By my half-kitchen and half-parlour fire."</span> +</div></div> + +<p>My sister and I were in the habit of having the tea-kettle in +our little sitting room; and we toasted the bread ourselves, +which reminds me of a little circumstance not unworthy to be +set down among these minutiæ. Happening both of us to be +engaged a few minutes one morning when we had a young prig +of a Scotch lawyer to breakfast with us, my dear Sister, with +her usual simplicity, put the toasting fork with a slice of bread +into the hands of this Edinburgh genius. Our little book-case +stood on one side of the fire. To prevent loss of time, he took +down a book, and fell to reading, to the neglect of the toast, +which was burnt to a cinder. Many a time have we laughed +at this circumstance, and other cottage simplicities of that day. +By the bye, I have a spite at one of this series of Sonnets (I +will leave the reader to discover which) as having been the +means of nearly putting off for ever our acquaintance with dear +Miss Fenwick, who has always stigmatized one line of it as +vulgar, and worthy only of having been composed by a country +squire.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>In 1815, this was classed among the "Poems proceeding +from Sentiment and Reflection." From 1820 to 1843, +it found a place among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets," and in +1845 was restored to its earlier one among the "Poems of +Sentiment and Reflection."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> +<p class="bindentx">I</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am not One who much or oft delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To season my fireside with personal talk,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of<a name="FNanchor_1_63" id="FNanchor_1_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_63" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> friends, who live within an easy walk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or neighbours, daily, weekly, in my sight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, for my chance-acquaintance, ladies bright, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sons, mothers, maidens withering on the stalk,<a name="FNanchor_A_66" id="FNanchor_A_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_66" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">These all wear out of me, like Forms, with chalk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Painted on rich men's floors, for one feast-night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better than such discourse doth silence long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long, barren silence, square with my desire; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sit without emotion, hope, or aim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the loved presence of my cottage-fire,<a name="FNanchor_2_64" id="FNanchor_2_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_64" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And listen to the flapping of the flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or kettle whispering its faint undersong.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindentx">II</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet life," you say, "is life; we have seen and see, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with a living pleasure we describe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fits of sprightly malice do but bribe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The languid mind into activity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sound sense, and love itself, and mirth and glee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are fostered by the comment and the gibe." <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even be it so: yet still among your tribe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our daily world's true Worldlings, rank not me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Children are blest, and powerful; their world lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More justly balanced; partly at their feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And part far from them:—sweetest melodies <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are those that are by distance made more sweet;<a name="FNanchor_B_67" id="FNanchor_B_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_67" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Whose mind is but the mind of his own eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is a Slave; the meanest we can meet!<a name="FNanchor_C_68" id="FNanchor_C_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_68" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindentx">III</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wings have we,—and as far as we can go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We may find pleasure: wilderness and wood, <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blank ocean and mere sky, support that mood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which with the lofty sanctifies the low.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are a substantial world, both pure and good:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our pastime and our happiness will grow. 36<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There find I personal themes, a plenteous store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Matter wherein right voluble I am,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which I listen with a ready ear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two shall be named, pre-eminently dear,—<a name="FNanchor_3_65" id="FNanchor_3_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_65" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gentle Lady married to the Moor;<a name="FNanchor_D_69" id="FNanchor_D_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_69" class="fnanchor">[D]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heavenly Una with her milk-white Lamb.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindentx">IV</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor can I not believe but that hereby<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great gains are mine; for thus I live remote<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From evil-speaking; rancour, never sought, <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes to me not; malignant truth, or lie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence have I genial seasons, hence have I</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Smooth passions, smooth discourse, and joyous thought:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus from day to day my little boat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rocks in its harbour, lodging peaceably. <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blessings be with them—and eternal praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! might my name be numbered among theirs, <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then gladly would I end my mortal days.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The text of the poem was little altered, and was fixed in +1827. It had no title in 1807 and 1815.</p> + +<p>The reading of 1807,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">my half-kitchen my half-parlour fire,</span> +</div></div> + +<p>was a reminiscence of Dove Cottage, which we regret to lose in +the later editions.</p> + +<p>In the Baptistery of Westminster Abbey, there is a statue of +Wordsworth by Frederick Thrupp of great merit, placed there +by the late Dean Stanley, beside busts of Keble, Maurice, and +Kingsley. Underneath the statue of Wordsworth are the four +lines from <i>Personal Talk</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Blessings be with them—and eternal praise,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares—</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays!</span> +</div></div> + +<p>Dean Stanley found it difficult to select from Wordsworth's +poems the lines most appropriate for inscription, and adopted +these at the suggestion of his friend, Principal Shairp.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_63" id="Footnote_1_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_63"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">About ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_64" id="Footnote_2_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_64"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">By my half-kitchen my half-parlour fire, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_65" id="Footnote_3_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_65"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">There do I find a never-failing store</span><br /> +<span class="var">Of personal themes, and such as I love best;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Matter wherein right voluble I am:</span><br /> +<span class="var">Two will I mention, dearer than the rest; <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_66" id="Footnote_A_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_66"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> This is the line referred to by Wordsworth in the Fenwick note. Compare +<i>Midsummer Night's Dream</i>, act <span class="allcapsc">I.</span> scene i. ll. 75-78.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_67" id="Footnote_B_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_67"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Compare Collins, <i>The Passions</i>, l. 60, and <i>An Evening Walk</i>, l. 237 +and note (vol. i. p. 22).—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_68" id="Footnote_C_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_68"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Compare <i>The Prelude</i>, book xii. l. 151 (vol. iii. p. 349)— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i11h">I knew a maid,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">A young enthusiast, who escaped these bonds;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Her eye was not the mistress of her heart.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_69" id="Footnote_D_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_69"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> Wordsworth said on one occasion, as Professor Dowden has reminded +us, that he thought <i>Othello</i>, the close of the <i>Phædo</i>, and Walton's <i>Life of +George Herbert</i>, the three "most pathetic" writings in the world.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ADMONITION" id="ADMONITION"></a>ADMONITION</h2> + +<p class="hang">Intended more particularly for the perusal of those who may have +happened to be enamoured of some beautiful place of Retreat, +in the Country of the Lakes.</p> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well may'st thou halt—and gaze with brightening eye!<a name="FNanchor_1_70" id="FNanchor_1_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_70" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lovely Cottage in the guardian nook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath stirred thee deeply; with its own dear brook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its own small pasture, almost its own sky!<a name="FNanchor_A_76" id="FNanchor_A_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_76" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But covet not the Abode;—forbear to sigh,<a name="FNanchor_2_71" id="FNanchor_2_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_71" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As many do, repining while they look;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intruders—who would tear<a name="FNanchor_3_72" id="FNanchor_3_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_72" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> from Nature's book<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This precious leaf, with harsh impiety.<a name="FNanchor_4_73" id="FNanchor_4_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_73" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think what the Home must<a name="FNanchor_5_74" id="FNanchor_5_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_74" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> be if it were thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even thine, though few thy wants!—Roof, window, door, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very flowers are sacred to the Poor,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">The roses to the porch which they entwine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, all, that now enchants thee, from the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which it should be touched, would melt away.<a name="FNanchor_6_75" id="FNanchor_6_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_75" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The cottage at Town-end, Grasmere—where this sonnet +was composed—may have suggested it. Some of the details, +however, are scarcely applicable to Dove Cottage; the "brook" +(referred to elsewhere) is outside the orchard ground, and there +is scarcely anything in the garden to warrant the phrase, "its +own small pasture." It is unnecessary to localise the allusions.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_70" id="Footnote_1_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_70"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Yes, there is holy pleasure in thine eye! <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_71" id="Footnote_2_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_71"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... oh! do not sigh, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_72" id="Footnote_3_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_72"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Sighing a wish to tear ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_73" id="Footnote_4_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_73"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">This blissful leaf, with worst impiety. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... with harsh impiety. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_74" id="Footnote_5_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_74"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... would ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_75" id="Footnote_6_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_75"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1838. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... would melt, and melt away! <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_76" id="Footnote_A_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_76"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare the lines in <i>Peter Bell</i>, vol. ii. p. 13— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where deep and low the hamlets lie</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Beneath their little patch of sky</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And little lot of stars.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BELOVED_VALE_I_SAID_WHEN_I" id="BELOVED_VALE_I_SAID_WHEN_I"></a>"'BELOVED VALE!' I SAID, 'WHEN I +SHALL CON'"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + +<p>One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Beloved Vale!" I said, "when I shall con<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those many records of my childish years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remembrance of myself and of my peers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will press me down: to think of what is gone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will be an awful thought, if life have one." <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, when into the Vale I came, no fears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distressed me; from mine eyes escaped no tears;<a name="FNanchor_1_77" id="FNanchor_1_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_77" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep thought, or dread remembrance, had I none.<a name="FNanchor_2_78" id="FNanchor_2_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_78" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By doubts and thousand petty fancies crost<a name="FNanchor_3_79" id="FNanchor_3_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_79" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">I stood, of simple shame the blushing Thrall;<a name="FNanchor_A_81" id="FNanchor_A_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_81" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So narrow seemed the brooks, the fields so small!<a name="FNanchor_4_80" id="FNanchor_4_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_80" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Juggler's balls old Time about him tossed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I looked, I stared, I smiled, I laughed; and all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weight of sadness was in wonder lost.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Doubtless the "Vale" referred to is that of Hawkshead; +the "brooks" may refer to the one that feeds Esthwaite lake, +or to Sawrey beck, or (more likely) to the streamlet, "the +famous brook within our garden boxed," described in <i>The +Prelude</i>, books i. and ii. (vol. iii.) See also <i>The Fountain</i>, vol. +ii. p. 92.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_77" id="Footnote_1_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_77"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Distress'd me; I look'd round, I shed no tears; <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_78" id="Footnote_2_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_78"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... or awful vision, I had none. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... had I none. <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_79" id="Footnote_3_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_79"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">By thousand petty fancies I was cross'd, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_80" id="Footnote_4_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_80"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">To see the Trees, which I had thought so tall,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Mere dwarfs; the Brooks so narrow, Fields so small. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_81" id="Footnote_A_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_81"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare <i>Hart-Leap Well</i>, l. 117 (vol. ii. p. 134).—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="HOW_SWEET_IT_IS_WHEN_MOTHER" id="HOW_SWEET_IT_IS_WHEN_MOTHER"></a>"HOW SWEET IT IS, WHEN MOTHER +FANCY ROCKS"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>Placed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How sweet it is, when mother Fancy rocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wayward brain, to saunter through a wood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An old place, full of many a lovely brood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tall trees, green arbours, and ground-flowers in flocks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wild rose tip-toe upon hawthorn stocks, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a bold Girl, who plays her agile pranks<a name="FNanchor_1_82" id="FNanchor_1_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_82" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Wakes and Fairs with wandering Mountebanks,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she stands cresting the Clown's head, and mocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crowd beneath her. Verily I think,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such place to me is sometimes like a dream <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span><span class="i0">Or map of the whole world: thoughts, link by link,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enter through ears and eyesight, with such gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all things, that at last in fear I shrink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leap at once from the delicious stream.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_82" id="Footnote_1_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_82"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Like to a bonny Lass, who plays her pranks <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THOSE_WORDS_WERE_UTTERED_AS_IN" id="THOSE_WORDS_WERE_UTTERED_AS_IN"></a>"THOSE WORDS WERE UTTERED AS IN +PENSIVE MOOD"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">——"they are of the sky,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And from our earthly memory fade away."<a name="FNanchor_A_89" id="FNanchor_A_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_89" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Placed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those<a name="FNanchor_1_83" id="FNanchor_1_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_83" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> words were uttered as in pensive mood<a name="FNanchor_2_84" id="FNanchor_2_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_84" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We turned, departing from<a name="FNanchor_3_85" id="FNanchor_3_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_85" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> that solemn sight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A contrast and reproach to<a name="FNanchor_4_86" id="FNanchor_4_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_86" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> gross delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life's unspiritual pleasures daily wooed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now upon this thought I cannot brood; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is unstable as a dream of night;<a name="FNanchor_5_87" id="FNanchor_5_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_87" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will I praise a cloud, however bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disparaging Man's gifts, and proper food.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Grove, isle, with every shape of sky-built dome,<a name="FNanchor_6_88" id="FNanchor_6_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_88" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though clad in colours beautiful and pure, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Find in the heart of man no natural home:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The immortal Mind craves objects that endure:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These cleave to it; from these it cannot roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor they from it: their fellowship is secure.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_83" id="Footnote_1_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_83"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1838. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">These ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_84" id="Footnote_2_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_84"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... utter'd in a pensive mood. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_85" id="Footnote_3_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_85"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Even while mine eyes were on ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Mine eyes yet lingering on ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_86" id="Footnote_4_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_86"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A silent counter part of ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_87" id="Footnote_5_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_87"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1827.<br /> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">It is unstable, and deserts me quite; ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_88" id="Footnote_6_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_88"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The Grove, the sky-built Temple, and the Dome, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_89" id="Footnote_A_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_89"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> See the sonnet <i>Composed after a Journey across the Hambleton Hills, +Yorkshire</i>, vol. ii. p. 349.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WITH_HOW_SAD_STEPS_O_MOON_THOU" id="WITH_HOW_SAD_STEPS_O_MOON_THOU"></a>"WITH HOW SAD STEPS, O MOON, THOU +CLIMB'ST THE SKY"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>In the edition of 1815, this was placed among the "Poems +of the Fancy." In 1820 it became one of the "Miscellaneous +Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"How silently, and with how wan a face!"<a name="FNanchor_A_94" id="FNanchor_A_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_94" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where art thou? Thou so often seen on high<a name="FNanchor_1_90" id="FNanchor_1_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_90" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Running among the clouds a Wood-nymph's race!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unhappy Nuns, whose common breath's a sigh <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which they would stifle, move at such a pace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The northern Wind, to call thee to the chase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must blow to-night his bugle horn. Had I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The power of Merlin, Goddess! this should be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the stars, fast as the clouds were riven,<a name="FNanchor_2_91" id="FNanchor_2_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_91" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span><span class="i0">Should sally forth, to keep thee company,<a name="FNanchor_3_92" id="FNanchor_3_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_92" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurrying and sparkling through the clear blue heaven;<a name="FNanchor_4_93" id="FNanchor_4_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_93" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, Cynthia! should to thee the palm be given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Queen both for beauty and for majesty.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The sonnet of Sir Philip Sidney's, from which the two first +lines are taken, is No. <span class="allcapsc">XXXI.</span> in <i>Astrophel and Stella</i>. In the +edition of 1807 these lines were printed, not as a sonnet, but as +No. <span class="allcapsc">III.</span> in the series of "Poems composed during a Tour, chiefly +on foot;" and in 1807 and 1815 the first two lines were +placed within quotation marks.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_90" id="Footnote_1_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_90"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... Thou whom I have seen on high <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_91" id="Footnote_2_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_91"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And all the Stars, now shrouded up in heaven, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And the keen Stars, fast as the clouds were riven, <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_92" id="Footnote_3_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_92"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Should sally forth, an emulous Company, <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1837 returns to that of 1807. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_93" id="Footnote_4_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_93"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1840. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">What strife would then be yours, fair Creatures, driv'n</span><br /> +<span class="var">Now up, now down, and sparkling in your glee! <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Sparkling, and hurrying through the clear blue heaven; <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">All hurrying with thee through the clear blue heaven; <span class="yearnum">1832.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">In that keen sport along the plain, of heaven; <span class="yearnum">1837.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var12h">... in emulous company</span><br /> +<span class="var">Sparkling, and hurrying through the clear blue heaven; <span class="yearnum">1838 and <span class="allcapsc">C.</span></span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Hurrying and sparkling through the clear blue Heaven. <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">C.</span></span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">With emulous brightness through the clear blue Heaven. <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">C.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_94" id="Footnote_A_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_94"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> From a sonnet of Sir Philip Sydney.—W. W. 1807.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_WORLD_IS_TOO_MUCH_WITH_US" id="THE_WORLD_IS_TOO_MUCH_WITH_US"></a>"THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US; +LATE AND SOON"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world is too much with us; late and soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little we see in Nature that is ours;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This<a name="FNanchor_1_95" id="FNanchor_1_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_95" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The winds that will be howling at all hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this, for every thing, we are out of tune;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It moves us not.—Great God! I'd rather be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,<a name="FNanchor_A_97" id="FNanchor_A_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_97" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have sight of Proteus rising<a name="FNanchor_2_96" id="FNanchor_2_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_96" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> from the sea;<a name="FNanchor_B_98" id="FNanchor_B_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_98" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.<a name="FNanchor_C_99" id="FNanchor_C_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_99" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The "pleasant lea" referred to in this sonnet is unknown. It +may have been on the Cumbrian coast, or in the Isle of Man.</p> + +<p>I am indebted to the Rev. Canon Ainger for suggesting +an (unconscious) reminiscence of Spenser in the last line of +the sonnet. Compare Dr. Arnold's commentary (<i>Miscellaneous +Works of Thomas Arnold</i>, p. 311), and that of Sir Henry +Taylor in his <i>Notes from Books</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_95" id="Footnote_1_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_95"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_96" id="Footnote_2_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_96"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... coming ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_97" id="Footnote_A_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_97"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> See Spenser's <i>Colin Clout's come Home againe</i>, l. 283— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A goodly pleasant lea."<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_98" id="Footnote_B_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_98"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Compare <i>Paradise Lost</i>, book iii. l. 603.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_99" id="Footnote_C_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_99"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> See <i>Colin Clout's come Home againe</i>, ll. 244-5— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of them the shepheard which hath charge in chief,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Is Triton, blowing loud his wreathèd horne.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WITH_SHIPS_THE_SEA_WAS_SPRINKLED" id="WITH_SHIPS_THE_SEA_WAS_SPRINKLED"></a>"WITH SHIPS THE SEA WAS SPRINKLED +FAR AND NIGH"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>Placed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,<a name="FNanchor_A_100" id="FNanchor_A_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_100" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed;</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span><span class="i0">Some lying fast at anchor in the road,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some veering up and down, one knew not why.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A goodly Vessel did I then espy <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come like a giant from a haven broad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lustily along the bay she strode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her tackling rich, and of apparel high.<a name="FNanchor_B_101" id="FNanchor_B_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_101" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Ship was nought to me, nor I to her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I pursued her with a Lover's look; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Ship to all the rest did I prefer:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When will she turn, and whither? She will brook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No tarrying; where She comes the winds must stir:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On went She, and due north her journey took.<a name="FNanchor_C_102" id="FNanchor_C_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_102" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_100" id="Footnote_A_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_100"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare <i>The Excursion</i>, book iv. l. 1197— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">... sea with ships</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Sprinkled ...<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_101" id="Footnote_B_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_101"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> In the editions of 1815 to 1832 (but not in 1807) this line was printed +within inverted commas. The quotation marks were dropped, however, in +subsequent editions (as in the quotation from Spenser, in the poem <i>Beggars</i>). +In a note at the end of the volumes of 1807, Wordsworth says, "From a +passage in Skelton, which I cannot here insert, not having the Book at hand." +</p><p> +The passage is as follows— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her takelynge ryche, and of hye apparayle.</span><br /> +<span class="i6">Skelton's <i>Bowge of Courte</i>, stanza vi.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_102" id="Footnote_C_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_102"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> See Professor H. Reed's note to the American edition of <i>Memoirs of +Wordsworth</i>, vol. i. p. 335; and Wordsworth's comment on Mrs. Fermor's +criticism of this sonnet in his letter to Lady Beaumont, May 21, 1807.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WHERE_LIES_THE_LAND_TO_WHICH_YON" id="WHERE_LIES_THE_LAND_TO_WHICH_YON"></a>"WHERE LIES THE LAND TO WHICH YON +SHIP MUST GO?"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Festively she puts forth in trim array;<a name="FNanchor_1_103" id="FNanchor_1_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_103" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow?</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">What boots the inquiry?—Neither friend nor foe <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She cares for; let her travel where she may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She finds familiar names, a beaten way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever before her, and a wind to blow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, almost as it was when ships were rare, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(From time to time, like Pilgrims, here and there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crossing the waters) doubt, and something dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the old Sea some reverential fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is with me at thy farewell, joyous Bark!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_103" id="Footnote_1_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_103"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Festively she puts forth in trim array;</span><br /> +<span class="var">As vigorous as a Lark at break of day: <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TO_SLEEP" id="TO_SLEEP"></a>TO SLEEP</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>Placed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O gentle sleep! do they belong to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These twinklings of oblivion? Thou dost love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sit in meekness, like the brooding Dove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A captive never wishing to be free.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This tiresome night, O Sleep! thou art to me <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Fly, that up and down himself doth shove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a fretful rivulet, now above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now on the water vexed with mockery.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have no pain that calls for patience, no;<a name="FNanchor_A_106" id="FNanchor_A_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_106" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence am I<a name="FNanchor_1_104" id="FNanchor_1_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_104" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> cross and peevish as a child: <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Am<a name="FNanchor_2_105" id="FNanchor_2_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_105" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> pleased by fits to have thee for my foe,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Yet ever willing to be reconciled:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O gentle Creature! do not use me so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But once and deeply let me be beguiled.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_104" id="Footnote_1_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_104"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">I am ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1827 returns to that of 1807. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_105" id="Footnote_2_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_105"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1827 returns to that of 1807. +</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_106" id="Footnote_A_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_106"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare—"Et c'est encore ce qui me fâche, de n'etre pas même en +droit de ... fâcher."—Rousseau, <i>La Nouvelle Héloïse</i>. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Vixque tenet lacrymas; quia nil lacrymabile cernit."</span><br /> +<span class="i6"> +Ovid, <i>Metamorphoses</i>, lib. ii. l. 796.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TO_SLEEP_1" id="TO_SLEEP_1"></a>TO SLEEP</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fond words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou hast had thy store of tenderest names;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very sweetest, Fancy culls or frames,<a name="FNanchor_1_107" id="FNanchor_1_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_107" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thankfulness of heart is strong and deep!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Bosom-child we call thee, that dost steep <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In rich reward all suffering; Balm that tames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All anguish; Saint that evil thoughts and aims<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Takest away, and into souls dost creep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like to a breeze from heaven. Shall I alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I surely not a man ungently made, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call thee worst Tyrant by which Flesh is crost?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perverse, self-willed to own and to disown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mere slave of them who never for thee prayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still last to come where thou art wanted most!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_107" id="Footnote_1_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_107"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The very sweetest words that fancy frames <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TO_SLEEP_2" id="TO_SLEEP_2"></a>TO SLEEP</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One after one; the sound of rain, and bees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">I have thought of all by turns, and yet do lie<a name="FNanchor_1_108" id="FNanchor_1_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_108" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleepless<a name="FNanchor_A_110" id="FNanchor_A_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_110" class="fnanchor">[A]</a>! and soon the small birds' melodies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And could not win thee, Sleep! by any stealth: <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So do not let me wear to-night away:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without Thee what is all the morning's wealth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, blessed barrier between<a name="FNanchor_2_109" id="FNanchor_2_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_109" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> day and day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Compare Ovid, <i>Metamorphoses</i>, book xi. l. 623; <i>Macbeth</i>, +act <span class="allcapsc">II.</span> scene ii. l. 39; <i>King Henry IV.</i>, Part II., act <span class="allcapsc">III.</span> scene i. +l. 5; <i>Midsummer Night's Dream</i>, act <span class="allcapsc">III.</span> scene ii. l. 435.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_108" id="Footnote_1_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_108"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">I've thought of all by turns; and still I lie <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">By turns have all been thought of; yet I lie <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">I thought of all by turns, and yet I lie <span class="yearnum">1837.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">I have thought ... <span class="yearnum">1838.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_109" id="Footnote_2_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_109"><span class="label">[2]</span></a>1832. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... betwixt ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... between night and day, <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_110" id="Footnote_A_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_110"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare <i>The Faërie Queene</i>, book <span class="allcapsc">I.</span> canto i. stanza 41— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And more to lulle him in his slumber soft,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And ever-drizling raine upon the loft,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TO_THE_MEMORY_OF_RAISLEY_CALVERT" id="TO_THE_MEMORY_OF_RAISLEY_CALVERT"></a>TO THE MEMORY OF RAISLEY CALVERT</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[This young man, Raisley Calvert, to whom I was so much +indebted, died at Penrith, 1795.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Calvert! it must not be unheard by them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who may respect my name, that I to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Owed many years of early liberty.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">This care was thine when sickness did condemn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy youth to hopeless wasting, root and stem— <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I, if frugal and severe, might stray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where'er I liked; and finally array<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My temples with the Muse's diadem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence, if in freedom I have loved the truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If there be aught of pure, or good, or great, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In my past verse; or shall be, in the lays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of higher mood, which now I meditate;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It gladdens me, O worthy, short-lived, Youth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think how much of this will be thy praise.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Raisley Calvert was the son of R. Calvert, steward to the +Duke of Norfolk. Writing to Sir George Beaumont, on the +20th February 1805, Wordsworth said, "I should have been +forced into one of the professions" (the church or law) "by +necessity, had not a friend left me £900. This bequest was +from a young man with whom, though I call him friend, I had +but little connection; and the act was done entirely from a +confidence on his part that I had powers and attainments which +might be of use to mankind.... Upon the interest of the +£900, and £100 legacy to my sister, and £100 more which +the 'Lyrical Ballads' have brought me, my sister and I contrived +to live seven years, nearly eight." To his friend Matthews he +wrote, November 7th, 1794, "My friend" (Calvert) "has +every symptom of a confirmed consumption, and I cannot think +of quitting him in his present debilitated state." And in +January 1795 he wrote to Matthews from Penrith (where +Calvert was staying), "I have been here for some time. I am +still much engaged with my sick friend; and am sorry to add +that he worsens daily ... he is barely alive." In a letter to +Dr. Joshua Stanger of Keswick, written in the year 1842, +Wordsworth referred thus to Raisley Calvert. Dr. Calvert—a +nephew of Raisley, and son of the W. Calvert whom the poet +accompanied to the Isle of Wight and Salisbury in 1793—had +just died. "His removal (Dr. Calvert's) has naturally thrown +my mind back as far as Dr. Calvert's grandfather, his father, +and sister (the former of whom was, as you know, among my +intimate friends), and his uncle Raisley, whom I have so much +cause to remember with gratitude for his testamentary remembrance +of me, when the greatest part of my patrimony was +kept back from us by injustice. It may be satisfactory to your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +wife for me to declare that my friend's bequest enabled me to +devote myself to literary pursuits, independent of any necessity +to look at pecuniary emolument, so that my talents, such as they +might be, were free to take their natural course. Your brothers +Raisley and William were both so well known to me, and I +have so many reasons to respect them, that I cannot forbear +saying, that my sympathy with this last bereavement is deepened +by the remembrance that they both have been taken from +you...." On October 1, 1794, Wordsworth wrote from +Keswick to Ensign William Calvert about his brother Raisley. +(The year is not given in the letter, but it must have been +1794.) He tells him that Raisley was determined to set out +for Lisbon; but that he (Wordsworth) could not brook the +idea of his going alone; and that he wished to accompany his +friend and stay with him, till his health was re-established. +He adds, "Reflecting that his return is uncertain, your brother +requests me to inform you that he has drawn out his will, which +he means to get executed in London. The purport of his will +is to leave you all his property, real and personal, chargeable +with a legacy of £600 to me, in case that, on inquiry into the +state of our affairs in London, he should think it advisable to +do so. It is at my request that this information is communicated +to you." Calvert did not live to go south; and he changed +the sum left to Wordsworth from £600 to £900. The relationship +of the two men suggests the somewhat parallel one between +Spinoza and Simon de Vries.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="METHOUGHT_I_SAW_THE_FOOTSTEPS" id="METHOUGHT_I_SAW_THE_FOOTSTEPS"></a>"METHOUGHT I SAW THE FOOTSTEPS +OF A THRONE"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[The latter part of this sonnet was a great favourite with +my sister S. H. When I saw her lying in death, I could not +resist the impulse to compose the Sonnet that follows it.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Methought I saw the footsteps of a throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud—</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Nor view of who might sit<a name="FNanchor_1_111" id="FNanchor_1_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_111" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> thereon allowed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all the steps and ground about were strown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever put on; a miserable crowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou art our king, O Death! to thee we groan."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave<a name="FNanchor_2_112" id="FNanchor_2_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_112" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleeping alone within a mossy cave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"The Sonnet that follows," referred to in the Fenwick note, +is one belonging to the year 1836, beginning—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Even so for me a Vision sanctified.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>See the note to that sonnet.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_111" id="Footnote_1_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_111"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... of him who sate ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_112" id="Footnote_2_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_112"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">I seem'd to mount those steps; the vapours gave <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Those steps I mounted, as the vapours gave <span class="yearnum">1837.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... while the vapours gave <span class="yearnum">1838.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Those steps I clomb; the opening vapours gave <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1840.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LINES" id="LINES"></a>LINES</h2> + +<p class="hang">Composed at Grasmere, during a walk one Evening, after a +stormy day, the Author having just read in a Newspaper +that the dissolution of Mr. Fox was hourly expected.</p> + +<p class="center">Composed September 1806.—Published 1807</p> + +<p>This poem was ranked among the "Epitaphs and Elegiac +Pieces."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loud is the Vale! the Voice is up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With which she speaks when storms are gone,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">A mighty unison of streams!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all her Voices, One!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loud is the Vale;—this inland Depth <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In peace is roaring like the Sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon star upon the mountain-top<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is listening quietly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sad was I, even to pain deprest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Importunate and heavy load!<a name="FNanchor_A_114" id="FNanchor_A_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_114" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Comforter hath found me here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon this lonely road;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And many thousands now are sad—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wait the fulfilment of their fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he must die who is their stay, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their glory disappear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Power is passing from the earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To breathless Nature's dark abyss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the great and good depart<a name="FNanchor_1_113" id="FNanchor_1_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_113" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is it more than this— <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That Man, who is from God sent forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth yet again to God return?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such ebb and flow must ever be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then wherefore should we mourn?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Charles James Fox died September 13, 1806. He was +Minister for Foreign Affairs at the time, having assumed office +on the 5th February, shortly after the death of William Pitt. +Wordsworth's sadness on this occasion, his recognition of Fox +as great and good, and as "a Power" that was "passing from +the earth," may have been due partly to personal and political +sympathy, but also probably to Fox's appreciation of the better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +side of the French Revolution, and to his welcoming the +pacific proposals of Talleyrand, perhaps also to his efforts for +the abolition of slavery.</p> + +<p>The "lonely road" referred to in these <i>Lines</i>, was, in all +likelihood, the path from Town-end towards the Swan Inn +past the Hollins, Grasmere. A "mighty unison of streams" +may be heard there any autumn evening after a stormy day, +and especially after long continued rain, the sound of waters +from Easdale, from Greenhead Ghyll, and the slopes of Silver +How, blending with that of the Rothay in the valley below. +Compare Dorothy Wordsworth's <i>Recollections of a Tour made +in Scotland</i>, in 1803, p. 229 (edition 1874).—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_113" id="Footnote_1_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_113"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">But when the Mighty pass away <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_114" id="Footnote_A_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_114"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Importuna e grave salma. (Michael Angelo.)—W. W. 1807.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NOVEMBER_1806" id="NOVEMBER_1806"></a>NOVEMBER, 1806</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1807</p> + +<p>Classed among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty," re-named +in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence +and Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Another year!-another deadly blow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another mighty Empire overthrown!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And We are left, or shall be left, alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last that dare<a name="FNanchor_1_115" id="FNanchor_1_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_115" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> to struggle with the Foe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in ourselves our safety must be sought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That by our own right hands it must be wrought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O dastard whom such foretaste<a name="FNanchor_2_116" id="FNanchor_2_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_116" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> doth not cheer!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We shall exult, if they who rule the land <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be men who hold its many blessings dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise, upright, valiant; not a servile<a name="FNanchor_3_117" id="FNanchor_3_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_117" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> band,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Who are to judge of danger which they fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And honour which they do not understand.<a name="FNanchor_A_118" id="FNanchor_A_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_118" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Napoleon won the battle of Jena on the 14th October 1806, +entered Potsdam on the 25th, and Berlin on the 28th; Prince +Hohenlohe laid down his arms on the 6th November; Blücher +surrendered at Lübeck on the 7th; Magdeburg was taken +on the 8th; on the 14th the French occupied Hanover; and +on the 21st Napoleon issued his Berlin decree for the blockade +of England—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_115" id="Footnote_1_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_115"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... dares ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_116" id="Footnote_2_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_116"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... knowledge ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_117" id="Footnote_3_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_117"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... venal ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_118" id="Footnote_A_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_118"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who are to judge of danger which they fear</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And honour which they do not understand.</span> +</div></div><p> +These two lines from Lord Brooke's <i>Life of Sir Philip Sydney</i>—W. W. +1807. +</p><p> +"Danger which they fear, and honour which they understand not." +Words in Lord Brooke's <i>Life of Sir P. Sidney</i>.—W. W. 1837.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ADDRESS_TO_A_CHILD" id="ADDRESS_TO_A_CHILD"></a>ADDRESS TO A CHILD</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">During a Boisterous Winter Evening</span></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By my Sister</span></h4> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>[Written at Town-end, Grasmere.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What way does the Wind come? What way does he go?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rides over the water, and over the snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through wood, and through vale; and, o'er rocky height<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which the goat cannot climb, takes his sounding flight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He tosses about in every bare tree, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As, if you look up, you plainly may see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But how he will come, and whither he goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's never a scholar in England knows.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ring<a name="FNanchor_1_119" id="FNanchor_1_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_119" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> a sharp 'larum;—but, if you should look, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nothing to see but a cushion of snow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round as a pillow, and whiter than milk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And softer than if it were covered with silk.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometimes he'll hide in the cave of a rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard cock; <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Yet seek him,—and what shall you find in the place?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing but silence and empty space;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save, in a corner, a heap of dry leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he's left, for a bed, to<a name="FNanchor_2_120" id="FNanchor_2_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_120" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> beggars or thieves!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As soon as 'tis daylight to-morrow, with me <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You shall go to the orchard, and then you will see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he has been there, and made a great rout,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cracked the branches, and strewn them about;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven grant that he spare but that one upright twig<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That looked up at the sky so proud and big <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All last summer, as well you know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Studded with apples, a beautiful show!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! over the roof he makes a pause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And growls as if he would fix his claws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right in the slates, and with a huge rattle <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drive them down, like men in a battle:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—But let him range round; he does us no harm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We build up the fire, we're snug and warm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untouched by his breath see the candle shines bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And burns with a clear and steady light; <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Books have we to read,—but that half-stifled knell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! tis the sound<a name="FNanchor_3_121" id="FNanchor_3_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_121" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> of the eight o'clock bell.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">—Come now we'll to bed! and when we are there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He may work his own will, and what shall we care?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He may knock at the door,—we'll not let him in; <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">May drive at the windows,—we'll laugh at his din;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let him seek his own home wherever it be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's a <i>cozie</i> warm house for Edward and me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Wordsworth dated this poem 1806, and said to Miss +Fenwick that it was written at Grasmere. If it was written +"during a boisterous winter evening" in 1806, it could not +have been written at Grasmere; because the Wordsworths spent +most of that winter at Coleorton. I am inclined to believe that +the date which the poet gave is wrong, and that the <i>Address</i> +really belongs to the year 1805; but, as it is just possible that—although +referring to winter—it may have been written at Town-end +in the summer of 1806, it is placed among the poems belonging +to the latter year.</p> + +<p>This <i>Address</i> was translated into French by Mme. Amable +Tastu, and published in a popular school-book series of extracts, +but Wordsworth's name is not given along with the translation.</p> + +<p>From 1815 to 1843 the authorship was veiled under the +title, "by a female Friend of the Author." In 1845, it was +disclosed, "by my Sister."</p> + +<p>In 1815 Charles Lamb wrote to Wordsworth, "We were +glad to see the poems 'by a female friend.' The one of the +Wind is masterly, but not new to us. Being only three, +perhaps you might have clapt a D. at the corner, and let it +have past as a printer's mark to the uninitiated, as a delightful +hint to the better instructed. As it is, expect a formal criticism +on the poems of your female friend, and she must expect it." +(<i>The Letters of Charles Lamb</i>, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. +p. 285.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_119" id="Footnote_1_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_119"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... rings ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_120" id="Footnote_2_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_120"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... for ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_121" id="Footnote_3_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_121"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... —hush! that half-stifled knell,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Methinks 'tis the sound ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BROOK_WHOSE_SOCIETY_THE_POET" id="BROOK_WHOSE_SOCIETY_THE_POET"></a>"BROOK! WHOSE SOCIETY THE POET +SEEKS"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806?—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brook! whose society the Poet seeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intent his wasted spirits to renew;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And whom the curious Painter doth pursue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tracks thee dancing down thy water-breaks; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If wish were mine some type of thee to view,<a name="FNanchor_1_122" id="FNanchor_1_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_122" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee, and not thee thyself, I would not do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Grecian Artists, give thee human cheeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Channels for tears; no Naiad should'st thou be,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have neither limbs, feet, feathers, joints nor hairs: <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With purer robes than those of flesh and blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hath bestowed on thee a safer good;<a name="FNanchor_2_123" id="FNanchor_2_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_123" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unwearied joy, and life without its cares.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_122" id="Footnote_1_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_122"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">If I some type of thee did wish to view, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_123" id="Footnote_2_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_123"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... a better good; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THERE_IS_A_LITTLE_UNPRETENDING_RILL" id="THERE_IS_A_LITTLE_UNPRETENDING_RILL"></a>"THERE IS A LITTLE UNPRETENDING RILL"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806?—Published 1820</p> + + +<p>[This Rill trickles down the hill-side into Windermere, near +Low-wood. My sister and I, on our first visit together to this +part of the country, walked from Kendal, and we rested to +refresh ourselves by the side of the lake where the streamlet +falls into it. This sonnet was written some years after in +recollection of that happy ramble, that most happy day and +hour.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is a little unpretending Rill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of limpid water, humbler far than aught<a name="FNanchor_1_124" id="FNanchor_1_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_124" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">That ever among Men or Naiads sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Notice or name!—It quivers down the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Furrowing its shallow way with dubious will; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet to my mind this scanty Stream is brought<a name="FNanchor_2_125" id="FNanchor_2_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_125" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oftener than Ganges or the Nile; a thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of private recollection sweet and still!<a name="FNanchor_3_126" id="FNanchor_3_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_126" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Months perish with their moons; year treads on year;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, faithful Emma! thou with me canst say <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, while ten thousand pleasures disappear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flies their memory fast almost as they,<a name="FNanchor_4_127" id="FNanchor_4_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_127" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The immortal Spirit of one happy day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lingers beside that Rill,<a name="FNanchor_5_128" id="FNanchor_5_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_128" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> in vision clear.<a name="FNanchor_6_129" id="FNanchor_6_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_129" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>One of the MS. readings of the ninth line of this sonnet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +gives the date of the incident as "now seven years gone"; but +I leave the date of composition undetermined. If we could +know accurately the date of the "first visit" to the district with +his sister (referred to in the Fenwick note), and if we could +implicitly trust this MS. reading, it might be possible to fix it; +but we can do neither. Wordsworth visited the Lake District +with his sister as early as 1794, and in December 1799 he took +up his abode with her at Dove Cottage. I have no doubt that +the sonnet belongs to the year 1806, or was composed at an +earlier date. As to the locality of the rill, the late Rev. R. +Perceval Graves, of Dublin, wrote to me:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"It was in 1843, when quitting the parsonage at Bowness, +I went to reside at Dovenest, that, calling one day at Rydal +Mount, I was told by both Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, as a +fact in which I should take a special interest, that the 'little +unpretending rill' associated by the poet with 'the immortal +spirit of one happy day,' was the rill which, rising near High +Skelgill at the back of Wansfell, descends steeply down the +hill-side, passes behind the house at Dovenest, and crossing +beneath the road, enters the lake near the gate of the drive +which leads up to Dovenest.</p> + +<p>"The authority on which I give this information is decisive +of the question. I have often traced upwards the course of the +rill; and the secluded hollow, which by its source is beautified +with fresh herbage and wild straggling bushes, was a favourite +haunt of mine."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_124" id="Footnote_1_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_124"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">There is a tiny water, neither rill,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Motionless well, nor running brook, nor aught <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">There is a noiseless water, neither rill,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Nor spring enclosed in sculptured stone, nor aught <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">There is a trickling water, neither rill,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Fountain inclosed, or rivulet, nor aught <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span> 1806.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_125" id="Footnote_2_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_125"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10">... It trickles down the hill,</span><br /> +<span class="var">So feebly, just for love of power and will,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Yet to my mind the nameless thing is brought <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10">... It totters down the hill,</span><br /> +<span class="var">So feebly, quite forlorn of power and will;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Yet nameless Thing it to my mind is brought <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_126" id="Footnote_3_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_126"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Oftener than mightiest Floods, whose path is wrought</span><br /> +<span class="var">Through wastes of sand, and forests dark and chill. <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_127" id="Footnote_4_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_127"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Do thou, even thou, O faithful Anna! say</span><br /> +<span class="var">Why this small Streamlet is to me so dear;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Thou know'st, that while enjoyments disappear</span><br /> +<span class="var">And sweet remembrances like flowers decay, <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_128" id="Footnote_5_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_128"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Lingers upon its marge, ... <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_129" id="Footnote_6_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_129"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">For on that day, now seven years gone, when first</span><br /> +<span class="var">Two glad foot-travellers, through sun and shower</span><br /> +<span class="var">My Love and I came hither, while thanks burst</span><br /> +<span class="var">Out of our hearts ...</span><br /> +<span class="var">We from that blessed water slaked our thirst. <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... seven years back, ...</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var8">... hearts to God for that good hour,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Eating a traveller's meal in shady bower,</span><br /> +<span class="var">We ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Year_1807" id="Year_1807"></a>1807</h2> + + +<p>In few instances is it more evident that the dates which Wordsworth +affixed to his poems, in the editions of 1815, 1820, +1836, and 1845,—and those assigned in the Fenwick notes—cannot +be absolutely relied upon, than in the case of the +poems referring to Coleorton. Trusting to these dates, in the +absence of contrary evidence, one would naturally assign the +majority of the Coleorton poems to the year 1808. But it +is clear that, while the sonnet <a href="#TO_LADY_BEAUMONT"><i>To Lady Beaumont</i></a> may have +been written in 1806, the "Inscription" <a href="#FOR_A_SEAT_IN_THE_GROVES_OF"><i>For a Seat in the +Groves of Coleorton</i></a>, beginning—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Beneath yon eastern ridge, the craggy bound,</span> +</div></div> + +<p>was written, not in 1808 (as stated by Wordsworth himself), +but in 1811; and that the other "Inscription" designed for a +Niche in the Winter-garden at Coleorton, belongs (I think) to +the same year; a year in which he also wrote the sonnet on Sir +George Beaumont's picture of Bredon Hill and Cloud Hill, +beginning—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Praised be the Art whose subtle power could stay.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>When the dates are so difficult to determine, there is a +natural fitness in bringing all the poems referring to Coleorton +together, so far as this can be done without seriously interfering +with chronological order. The two "Inscriptions" intended for +the Coleorton grounds, which were written at Grasmere in +1811, are therefore printed along with the poems of 1807; the +precise date of each being given—so far as it can be ascertained—underneath +its title.</p> + +<p>Several political sonnets, and others, were written in 1807; +also the <a href="#SONG_AT_THE_FEAST_OF_BROUGHAM"><i>Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle</i></a>, and the first and +larger part of <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a>, with a few minor +fragments. But, for reasons stated in the notes to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span><a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White +Doe of Rylstone</i></a> (see <a href="#Page_191">p. 191</a>), I have assigned that poem to the +year 1808. The <a href="#SONG_AT_THE_FEAST_OF_BROUGHAM"><i>Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle</i></a> forms as +natural a preface to <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe</i></a>, as <a href="#THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA"><i>The Force of Prayer, a +Tradition of Bolton Abbey</i></a>, is its natural appendix. The latter +was written, however, before <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a> was +finished.</p> + +<p>It would be easier to fix the date of some of the poems +written between the years 1806 and 1808, if we knew the exact +month in which the two volumes of 1807 were published; but +this, I fear, it is impossible to discover now.</p> + +<p>On November 10th, 1806, Wordsworth wrote to Sir George +Beaumont from Coleorton, "In a day or two I mean to send a +sheet or two of my intended volume to the press" (evidently +referring to the "Poems" of 1807). On the following day—11th +November 1806—Dorothy Wordsworth wrote to Lady Beaumont, +"William has written two other poems, which you will +see when they are printed. He composes frequently in the +grove.... We have not yet received a sheet from the printer." +On the 15th November 1806 she again wrote to Lady Beaumont +(from Coleorton), "My brother works very hard at his poems, +preparing them for the press. Miss Hutchinson is the transcriber." +In a subsequent letter from Coleorton, undated, but +bearing the post-mark February 18, 1807, she is speaking of +her brother's poetical labour, and says, "He must go on, when +he begins: and any interruptions (such as attending to the +progress of the workmen and planning the garden) are of the +greatest use to him; for, after a certain time, the progress is by +no means proportioned to the labour in composition; and if he +is called from it by other thoughts, he returns to it with ten +times the pleasure, and the work goes on proportionately the +more rapidly." From this we may infer that the years 1806-7 +were productive ones, but it is disappointing that the dates of +the composition of the poems are so difficult to determine.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TO_LADY_BEAUMONT" id="TO_LADY_BEAUMONT"></a>TO LADY BEAUMONT</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[The winter garden of Coleorton, fashioned out of an old +quarry, under the superintendence and direction of Mrs. Wordsworth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +and my sister Dorothy, during the winter and spring we +resided there.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady! the songs of Spring were in the grove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I was shaping beds for<a name="FNanchor_1_130" id="FNanchor_1_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_130" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> winter flowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I was planting green unfading bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shrubs—to hang upon the warm alcove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sheltering wall; and still, as Fancy wove <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dream, to time and nature's blended powers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I gave this paradise for winter hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A labyrinth, Lady! which your feet shall rove.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes! when the sun of life more feebly shines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Becoming thoughts, I trust, of solemn gloom <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or of high gladness you shall hither bring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And these perennial bowers and murmuring pines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be gracious as the music and the bloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the mighty ravishment of spring.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The title, <i>To Lady Beaumont</i>, was first given in 1845. In +1807 it was <i>To the ——</i>; in 1815, <i>To the Lady ——</i>; and +from 1820 to 1843, <i>To the Lady Beaumont</i>.</p> + +<p>This winter garden, fashioned by the Wordsworths out of +the old quarry at Coleorton, during Sir George and Lady +Beaumont's absence in 1807, exists very much as it was at the +beginning of the century. The "perennial bowers and murmuring +pines" may still be seen, little altered since 1807. The +late Sir George Beaumont (whose grandfather was first-cousin +to the artist Sir George, Wordsworth's friend), with strong +reverence for the past, and for the traditions of literary men +which have made the district famous since the days of his +ancestor Beaumont the dramatist, and especially for the +memorials of Wordsworth's ten months' residence at Coleorton,—took +a pleasure in preserving these memorials, very much as +they were when he entered in possession of the estates of his +ancestors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> Such a reverence for the past is not only consistent +with the "improvement" of an estate, and its belongings; it +is a part of it. Wordsworth, and his wife and sister, were +adepts in the laying out of grounds. (See the reference to the +poet's joint labour with Wilkinson at Yanwath, <a href="#Page_2">p. 2</a>.) It was +the Wordsworths also, I believe, who designed the grounds of +Fox How—Dr. Arnold's residence, near Ambleside. Similar +memorials of the poet survive at Hallsteads, Ullswater. The +following is an extract from the letter of Dorothy Wordsworth to +Lady Beaumont above referred to, and having the post-mark +of February 18, 1807. "For more than a week we have +had the most delightful weather. If William had but waited +a few days, it would have been no anticipation when he said to +you, 'the songs of Spring were in the grove;' for all this week +the birds have chanted from morn till evening, larks, blackbirds, +thrushes, and far more than I can name, and the busy rooks +have joined their happy voices."</p> + +<p>Wordsworth, writing to Sir George Beaumont, November +16, 1811, says, "I remember, Mr. Bowles, the poet, objected +to the word 'ravishment' at the end of the sonnet to the winter-garden; +yet it has the authority of all the first-rate poets, for +instance, Milton:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">'In whose sight all things joy, <i>with ravishment</i>,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze'...." +<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_130" id="Footnote_1_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_130"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... framing beds of ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... for ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_PROPHECY_FEBRUARY_1807" id="A_PROPHECY_FEBRUARY_1807"></a>A PROPHECY. FEBRUARY, 1807</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty," +re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence +and Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High deeds, O Germans, are to come from you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus in your books the record shall be found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A watchword was pronounced, a potent sound—<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span><span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Arminius</span>!<a name="FNanchor_A_134" id="FNanchor_A_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_134" class="fnanchor">[A]</a>—all the people quaked like dew</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Stirred by the breeze; they rose, a Nation, true, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">True to herself<a name="FNanchor_1_131" id="FNanchor_1_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_131" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>—the mighty Germany,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She of the Danube and the Northern Sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She rose, and off at once the yoke she threw.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All power was given her in the dreadful trance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those new-born Kings she withered like a flame."<a name="FNanchor_B_135" id="FNanchor_B_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_135" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Woe to them all! but heaviest woe and shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that Bavarian who could<a name="FNanchor_2_132" id="FNanchor_2_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_132" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> first advance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His banner in accursed league with France,<a name="FNanchor_C_136" id="FNanchor_C_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_136" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">First open traitor to the German name!<a name="FNanchor_3_133" id="FNanchor_3_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_133" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_131" id="Footnote_1_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_131"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... itself ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_132" id="Footnote_2_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_132"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... did ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_133" id="Footnote_3_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_133"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... to her sacred name! <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... to a ... <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_134" id="Footnote_A_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_134"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Arminius, or Hermann, the liberator of Germany from the Roman +power, <span class="allcapsc">A.D.</span> 9-17. Tacitus says of him, "He was without doubt the deliverer +of Germany; and, unlike other kings and generals, he attacked the Roman +people, not at the commencement, but in the fullness of their power: in battles +he was not always successful, but he was invincible in war. He still lives +in the songs of the barbarians."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_135" id="Footnote_B_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_135"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> The "new-born Kings" were the lesser German potentates, united in +the Confederation of the Rhine. By a treaty signed at Paris (July 12th, +1806), by Talleyrand, and the ministers of twelve sovereign houses of the +Empire, these princes declared themselves perpetually severed from Germany, +and united together as the Confederate States of the Rhine, of which the +Emperor of the French was declared Protector.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_136" id="Footnote_C_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_136"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> On December 11, 1806, Napoleon concluded a treaty with Frederick +Augustus, the Elector of Saxony—who had been secretly on the side of +France for some time—to whom he gave additional territories, and the +title of King, admitting him into "the Confederation of the Rhine." He had +fallen, as one of the Prussian statesmen put it, into "that lowest of degradations, +to steal at another man's bidding."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THOUGHT_OF_A_BRITON_ON_THE" id="THOUGHT_OF_A_BRITON_ON_THE"></a>THOUGHT OF A BRITON ON THE +SUBJUGATION OF SWITZERLAND</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[This was composed while pacing to and fro between the +Hall of Coleorton, then rebuilding, and the principal Farmhouse +of the Estate, in which we lived for nine or ten months. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>I will here mention that the <i>Song on the Restoration of Lord +Clifford</i>, as well as that on the <i>Feast of Brougham Castle</i>, were +produced on the same ground.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>This sonnet was classed among those "dedicated to Liberty," +re-named in 1845, "Poems dedicated to National Independence +and Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two Voices are there; one is of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of the mountains; each a mighty Voice:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In both from age to age thou didst rejoice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were thy chosen music, Liberty!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came a Tyrant, and with holy glee <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou fought'st against him; but hast vainly striven:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, high-souled Maid, what sorrow would it be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Mountain floods should thunder as before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ocean bellow from his rocky shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And neither awful Voice be heard by thee!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In 1807 the whole of the Continent of Europe was prostrate +under the power of Napoleon. It is impossible to say to what +special incident, if to any in particular, Wordsworth refers in +the phrase, "with holy glee thou fought'st against him;" but, +as the sonnet was composed at Coleorton in 1807—after +the battles of Austerlitz and Jena, and Napoleon's practical +mastery of Europe—our knowing the particular event or events +in Swiss history to which he refers, would not add much to our +understanding of the poem.</p> + +<p>In the Fenwick note Wordsworth incorrectly separates his +<i>Song on the Restoration of Lord Clifford</i> from the <i>Feast of +Brougham Castle</i>. They are the same song.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> +<h2 class="spec"><a name="TO_THOMAS_CLARKSON" id="TO_THOMAS_CLARKSON"></a>TO THOMAS CLARKSON, ON THE FINAL PASSING OF THE BILL FOR THE ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE TRADE, MARCH, 1807</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>One of the "Poems dedicated to National Independence +and Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clarkson! it was an obstinate hill to climb:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How toilsome—nay, how dire—it was, by thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is known; by none, perhaps, so feelingly:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou, who, starting in thy fervent prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst first lead forth that enterprise<a name="FNanchor_1_137" id="FNanchor_1_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_137" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> sublime, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast heard the constant Voice its charge repeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, out of thy young heart's oracular seat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First roused thee.—O true yoke-fellow of Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Duty's intrepid liegeman, see,<a name="FNanchor_2_138" id="FNanchor_2_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_138" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> the palm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is won, and by all Nations shall be worn! <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blood-stained Writing is for ever torn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou henceforth wilt have<a name="FNanchor_3_139" id="FNanchor_3_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_139" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> a good man's calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A great man's happiness; thy zeal shall find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repose at length, firm friend of human kind!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>On the 25th of March 1807, the Royal assent was given to +the Bill for the Abolition of the Slave Trade. The movement +for its abolition was begun by Wilberforce, and carried on by +Clarkson. Its abolition was voted by the House of Lords on +the motion of Lord Grenville, and by the Commons on the +motion of Charles James Fox, on the 10th of June 1806. The +bill was read a second time in the Lords on the 5th of February, +and became law on the 25th of March 1807.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_137" id="Footnote_1_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_137"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... this pilgrimage ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_138" id="Footnote_2_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_138"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">With unabating effort, see, ...<span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_139" id="Footnote_3_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_139"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The bloody Writing is for ever torn,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And Thou henceforth shalt have ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_MOTHERS_RETURN" id="THE_MOTHERS_RETURN"></a>THE MOTHER'S RETURN</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By My Sister</span></h4> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>[Written at Town-end, Grasmere.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A month, sweet Little-ones, is past<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since your dear Mother went away,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she to-morrow will return;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-morrow is the happy day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O blessed tidings! thought of joy! <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eldest heard with steady glee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent he stood; then laughed amain,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shouted, "Mother, come to me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Louder and louder did he shout,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With witless hope to bring her near; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, patience! patience, little boy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your tender mother cannot hear."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I told of hills, and far-off towns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And long, long vales to travel through;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He listens, puzzled, sore perplexed, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he submits; what can he do?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No strife disturbs his sister's breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She wars not with the mystery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of time and distance, night and day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bonds of our humanity. <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her joy is like an instinct, joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of kitten, bird, or summer fly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She dances, runs without an aim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She chatters in her ecstasy.</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span><span class="i0">Her brother now takes up the note, <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And echoes back his sister's glee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hug the infant in my arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if to force his sympathy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, settling into fond discourse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We rested in the garden bower; <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While sweetly shone the evening sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his departing hour.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We told o'er all that we had done,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our rambles by the swift brook's side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far as the willow-skirted pool, <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where two fair swans together glide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We talked of change, of winter gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of green leaves on the hawthorn spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of birds that build their nests and sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all "since Mother went away!" <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To her these tales they will repeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her our new-born tribes will show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The goslings green, the ass's colt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lambs that in the meadow go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">—But, see, the evening star comes forth! <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bed the children must depart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moment's heaviness they feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sadness at the heart:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis gone—and in a merry fit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They run up stairs in gamesome race; <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, too, infected by their mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could have joined the wanton chase.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Five minutes past—and, O the change!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Asleep upon their beds they lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their busy limbs in perfect rest, <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And closed the sparkling eye.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>The Fenwick note is inaccurate. These lines were written +by Dorothy Wordsworth at Coleorton, on the eve of her +brother and sister's return from London, in the spring of 1807, +whither they had gone for a month—Dorothy remaining at +Coleorton, in charge of the children. Previous to 1845, the +poem was attributed to "a female Friend of the Author."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="GIPSIES" id="GIPSIES"></a>GIPSIES</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[Composed at Coleorton. I had observed them, as here +described, near Castle Donnington, on my way to and from +Derby.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Poems of the Imagination."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet are they here the same unbroken knot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of human Beings, in the self-same spot!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men, women, children, yea the frame<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the whole spectacle the same!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only their fire seems bolder, yielding light, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now deep and red, the colouring of night;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That on their Gipsy-faces falls,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their bed of straw and blanket-walls.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Twelve hours, twelve bounteous hours are gone, while I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have been a traveller under open sky, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Much witnessing of change and cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet as I left I find them here!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weary Sun betook himself to rest;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then issued Vesper from the fulgent west,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Outshining like a visible God <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The glorious path in which he trod.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, ascending, after one dark hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one night's diminution of her power,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Behold the mighty Moon! this way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She looks as if at them—but they <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span><span class="i0">Regard not her:—oh better wrong and strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(By nature transient) than this torpid life;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Life which the very stars reprove<a name="FNanchor_A_144" id="FNanchor_A_144"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_144" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As on their silent tasks they move!<a name="FNanchor_1_140" id="FNanchor_1_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_140" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><a name="FNanchor_B_145" id="FNanchor_B_145"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_145" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, witness all that stirs in heaven or<a name="FNanchor_2_141" id="FNanchor_2_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_141" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> earth! <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In scorn I speak not;—they are what their birth<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And breeding suffer<a name="FNanchor_3_142" id="FNanchor_3_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_142" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> them to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wild outcasts of society!<a name="FNanchor_4_143" id="FNanchor_4_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_143" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>See S. T. Coleridge's criticism of this poem in his <i>Biographia +Literaria</i>, vol. ii. p. 156 (edition 1847).—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_140" id="Footnote_1_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_140"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Regard not her:—oh better wrong and strife</span><br /> +<span class="var">Better vain deeds or evil than such life!</span><br /> +<span class="var5">The silent Heavens have goings on;<a name="FNanchor_C_146" id="FNanchor_C_146"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_146" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></span><br /> +<span class="var5">The stars have tasks—but these have none. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var11h">... wrong and strife,</span><br /> +<span class="var">(By nature transient) than such torpid life!</span><br /> +<span class="var5">The silent Heavens have goings-on;</span><br /> +<span class="var5">The stars have tasks—but these have none! <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">(By nature transient) than such torpid life;</span><br /> +<span class="var5">Life which the very stars reprove</span><br /> +<span class="var5">As on their silent tasks they move! <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_141" id="Footnote_2_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_141"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... and ... <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_142" id="Footnote_3_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_142"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... suffers ... <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_143" id="Footnote_4_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_143"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The last four lines were added in 1820.</p></div> +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_144" id="Footnote_A_144"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_144"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare the <i>Ode to Duty</i>, l. 47 (vol. iii. p. 41).—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_145" id="Footnote_B_145"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_145"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Compare, in the <i>Ode to Duty</i>, l. 48— +</p><p> +And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_146" id="Footnote_C_146"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_146"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Compare, in the Fragment, vol. viii., beginning "No doubt if you in +terms direct had asked," the phrase— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4h">... the goings on</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of earth and sky.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="O_NIGHTINGALE_THOU_SURELY_ART" id="O_NIGHTINGALE_THOU_SURELY_ART"></a>"O NIGHTINGALE! THOU SURELY ART"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807 (probably).—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[Written at Town-end, Grasmere. (Mrs. W. says, in a note,—"At +Coleorton.")—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Poems of the Imagination."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Nightingale! thou surely art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A creature of a "fiery heart:"—<a name="FNanchor_A_148" id="FNanchor_A_148"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_148" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><a name="FNanchor_1_147" id="FNanchor_1_147"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_147" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">These notes of thine—they pierce and pierce;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tumultuous harmony and fierce!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou sing'st as if the God of wine <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had helped thee to a Valentine;<a name="FNanchor_B_149" id="FNanchor_B_149"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_149" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A song in mockery and despite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of shades, and dews, and silent night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And steady bliss, and all the loves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now sleeping in these peaceful groves. <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I heard a Stock-dove sing or say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His homely tale, this very day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His voice was buried among trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet to be come-at by the breeze:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He did not cease; but cooed—and cooed; <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And somewhat pensively he wooed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sang of love, with quiet blending,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow to begin, and never ending;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of serious faith, and inward glee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That was the song—the song for me! <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Mrs. Wordsworth corrected her husband's note to Miss +Fenwick, by adding in the MS., "at Coleorton"; and at +Coleorton the Wordsworths certainly spent the winter of 1806, +the Town-end Cottage at Grasmere being too small for their +increasing household. It is more likely that Wordsworth wrote +the poem at Coleorton than at Grasmere, and it looks as if it +had been an evening impromptu, after hearing both the nightingale +and the stock-dove. There are no nightingales at Grasmere,—they +are not heard further north than the Trent valley,—while +they used to abound in the "peaceful groves" of Coleorton. +If the locality was—as Mrs. Wordsworth states—Coleorton, and +if the lines were written after hearing the nightingale, the year +would be 1807, and not 1806 (the poet's own date). The +nightingale is a summer visitor in this country, and could not +have been heard by Wordsworth at Coleorton in 1806, as he +did not go south to Leicestershire till November in that year. +But it is quite possible that it was "the stock-dove's voice" +that alone suggested the lines, and that they were written either +in 1806, or (as I think more likely), very early in 1807. +In the month of January Wordsworth was corresponding with +Scott about the poems in this edition of 1807.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_147" id="Footnote_1_147"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_147"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A Creature of ebullient heart:— <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1820 returns to that of 1807.<a name="FNanchor_C_150" id="FNanchor_C_150"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_150" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> +</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_148" id="Footnote_A_148"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_148"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> See Shakespeare's <i>King Henry VI.</i>, Part III., act <span class="allcapsc">I.</span> scene iv. l. 87.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_149" id="Footnote_B_149"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_149"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Compare the lines in <i>The Cuckoo and the Nightingale</i>, vol. ii. p. 255— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I heard the lusty Nightingale so sing,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">That her clear voice made a loud rioting,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Echoing through all the green wood wide.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_150" id="Footnote_C_150"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_150"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Henry Crabb Robinson, in his <i>Diary</i> (May 9, 1815), anticipates this +return to the text of 1807.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THOUGH_NARROW_BE_THAT_OLD_MANS" id="THOUGH_NARROW_BE_THAT_OLD_MANS"></a>"THOUGH NARROW BE THAT OLD MAN'S +CARES, AND NEAR"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807.—Published 1807</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">——"gives to airy nothing</span><br /> +<span class="i2">A local habitation and a name."</span> +</div></div> + +<p>[Written at Coleorton. This old man's name was Mitchell. +He was, in all his ways and conversation, a great curiosity, +both individually and as a representative of past times. His +chief employment was keeping watch at night by pacing round +the house, at that time building, to keep off depredators. He +has often told me gravely of having seen the Seven Whistlers, +and the Hounds as here described. Among the groves of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +Coleorton, where I became familiar with the habits and notions +of old Mitchell, there was also a labourer of whom, I regret, I +had no personal knowledge; for, more than forty years after, +when he was become an old man, I learned that while I was +composing verses, which I usually did aloud, he took much +pleasure, unknown to me, in following my steps that he might +catch the words I uttered; and, what is not a little remarkable, +several lines caught in this way kept their place in his memory. +My volumes have lately been given to him by my informant, +and surely he must have been gratified to meet in print his old +acquaintances.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>In 1815 this sonnet was one of the "Poems belonging to +the Period of Old Age"; in 1820 it was transferred to the +"Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though narrow be that old Man's cares, and near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poor old Man is greater than he seems:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he hath waking empire, wide as dreams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An ample sovereignty of eye and ear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich are his walks with supernatural cheer; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The region of his inner spirit teems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With vital sounds and monitory gleams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of high astonishment and pleasing fear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He the seven birds hath seen, that never part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen the <span class="smcap">Seven Whistlers</span> in their nightly rounds, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And counted them: and oftentimes will start—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For overhead are sweeping <span class="smcap">Gabriel's Hounds</span><a name="FNanchor_A_151" id="FNanchor_A_151"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_151" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doomed, with their impious Lord, the flying Hart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To chase for ever, on aërial grounds!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>To bring all the poems referring to Coleorton together, so +far as possible, this and the next sonnet are transferred from +their places in the chronological list, and placed beside the +Coleorton "Inscriptions."</p> + +<p>I am indebted to Mr. William Kelly of Leicester for the +following note on the Leicestershire superstition of the Seven +Whistlers.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>"There is an old superstition, which it is not easy to get to +the bottom of, concerning a certain cry or sound heard in the +night, supposed to be produced by the Seven Whistlers. What +or who those whistlers are is an unsolved problem. In some +districts they are popularly believed to be witches, in others +ghosts, in others devils, while in the Midland Counties they are +supposed to be birds, either plovers or martins—some say swifts. +In Leicestershire it is deemed a bad omen to hear the Seven +Whistlers, and our old writers supply many passages illustrative +of the popular credulity. Spenser, in his <i>Faërie Queene</i>, book +<span class="allcapsc">II.</span> canto xii. stanza 36, speaks of</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The whistler shrill, that whoso hears doth die.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>Sir Walter Scott, in <i>The Lady of the Lake</i>, names the bird with +which his character associated the cry—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And in the plover's shrilly strain</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The signal whistlers heard again.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>"When the colliers of Leicestershire are flush of money, we +are told, and indulge in a drinking bout, they sometimes hear +the warning voice of the Seven Whistlers, get sobered and +frightened, and will not descend the pit again till next day. +Wordsworth speaks of a countryman who</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5h">... the seven birds hath seen, that never part,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Seen the Seven Whistlers in their nightly rounds,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And counted them.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>"A few years ago, during a thunderstorm which passed over +Leicestershire, and while vivid lightning was darting through +the sky, immense flocks of birds were seen flying about, uttering +doleful, affrighted cries as they passed, and keeping up for a +long time a continual whistling like that made by some kinds +of sea-birds. The number must have been immense, for the +local newspapers mentioned the same phenomenon in different +parts of the neighbouring counties of Northampton, Leicester, +and Lincoln. A gentleman, conversing with a countryman on +the following day, asked him what kind of birds he supposed +them to have been. The man answered, 'They are what we +call the Seven Whistlers,' and added that 'whenever they are +heard it is considered a sign of some great calamity, and that +the last time he had heard them was on the night before the +deplorable explosion of fire damp at the Hartley Colliery.'"</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>In <i>Notes and Queries</i> there are several allusions to this local +superstition. In the Fifth Series (vol. ii. p. 264), Oct. 3, +1874, the editor gives a summary of several notes on the +subject in vol. viii. of the Fourth Series (pp. 68, 134, 196, +and 268), with additional information. He says "record was +made of their having been heard in Leicestershire; and that +the develin or martin, the swift, and the plover were probably +of the whistling fraternity that frightened men. At p. 134 it +was shown that Wordsworth had spoken of one who</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5h">... the seven birds hath seen, that never part,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Seen the Seven Whistlers in their nightly rounds,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And counted them.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>On the same page, the swift is said to be the true whistler (but, +as noted at page 196, the swifts never make nightly rounds), +and the superstition is said to be common in our Midland +Counties. At page 268, Mr. Pearson put on record that in +Lancashire the plovers, whistling as they fly, are accounted +heralds of ill, though sometimes of trivial accident, and that +they are there called 'Wandering Jews,' and are said to be, or +to carry with them, the ever-restless souls of those Jews who +assisted at the Crucifixion. At page 336, the whistlers are +chronicled as having been the harbingers of the great Hartley +Colliery explosion. A correspondent, <span class="smcap">Viator</span>, added, that on +the Bosphorus there are flocks of birds, the size of a thrush, +which fly up and down the channel, and are never seen to rest +on land or water. The men who rowed Viator's caique told +him that they were the souls of the damned, condemned to +perpetual motion. The Seven Whistlers have not furnished +chroniclers with later circumstances of their tuneful and awful +progresses till a week or two ago.... The whistlers are also +heard and feared in Portugal. See <i>The New Quarterly</i> for July +1874, for a record of some travelling experience in that country."</p> + +<p>Another extract from <i>Notes and Queries</i> is to the following +effect:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"'Your Excellency laughs at ghosts. But there is no lie +about the Seven Whistlers. Many a man besides me has heard +them.'</p> + +<p>"'Who are the Seven Whistlers? and have you seen them +yourself?'</p> + +<p>"'Not seen, thank Heaven; but I have heard them plenty +of times. Some say they are the ghosts of children unbaptized, +who are to know no rest till the judgment day. Once last<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +winter I was going with donkeys and a mule to Caia. Just at +the moment I stopped by the river bank to tighten the mule's +girth, I heard the accursed whistlers coming down the wind +along the river. I buried my head under the mule, and never +moved till the danger was over; but they passed very near, for +I heard the flap and rustle of their wings.'</p> + +<p>"'What was the danger?'</p> + +<p>"'If a man once sees them, heaven only knows what will +not happen to him—death and damnation at the very least.'</p> + +<p>"'I have seen them many times. I shot, or tried to shoot +them!'</p> + +<p>"'Holy Mother of God! you English are an awful people! +You shot the Seven Whistlers?'</p> + +<p>"'Yes; we call them marecos (teal or widgeon) in our +country, and shoot them whenever we can. They are better +to eat than wild ducks.'"</p> +</div> + +<p><i>Gabriel's Hounds.</i>—"At Wednesbury in Staffordshire, the +colliers going to their pits early in the morning hear the noise +of a pack of hounds in the air, to which they give the name of +Gabriel's Hounds, though the more sober and judicious take +them only to be wild geese making this noise in their flight." +Kennet MS., Lansd. 1033. (See Halliwell's <i>Dictionary of +Archaic and Provincial Words</i>, vol. i. p. 388.) The peculiar +cry or cackle, both of the Brent Goose and of the Bean or +Harvest Goose (<i>Anser Segetum</i>), has often been likened to that +of a pack of hounds in full cry—especially when the birds are +on the wing during night. For some account of the superstition +of "Gabriel's Hounds," see <i>Notes and Queries</i>, First Series, +vol. v. pp. 534 and 596; and vol. xii. p. 470; Second +Series, vol. i. p. 80; and Fourth Series, vol. vii. p. 299. +In the last note these hounds are said to be popularly believed +to be "the souls of unbaptized children wandering in the air +till the day of judgment." They are also explained as "a thing +in the air, that is said in these parts (Sheffield) to foretell +calamity, sounding like a great pack of beagles in full cry." +This quotation is from Charles Reade's <i>Put yourself in his +place</i>, which contains many scraps of local folk-lore. The following +is from the <i>Statistical History of Kirkmichael</i>, by the Rev. +John Grant. "In the autumnal season, when the moon shines +from a serene sky, often is the wayfaring traveller arrested by +the music of the hills. Often struck with a more sober scene, +he beholds the visionary hunters engaged in the chase, and +pursuing the deer of the clouds, while the hollow rocks in long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +sounding echoes reverberate their cries." "There are several +now living who assert that they have seen and heard this aërial +hunting." See the <i>Statistical History of Scotland</i>, edited by +Sir J. Sinclair, vol. xii. pp. 461, 462. Compare note to <i>An +Evening Walk</i>, vol. i. p. 19.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_151" id="Footnote_A_151"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_151"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Both these superstitions are prevalent in the midland Counties of England: +that of "Gabriel's Hounds" appears to be very general over Europe; +being the same as the one upon which the German Poet, Bürger, has +founded his Ballad of <i>The Wild Huntsman</i>.—W. W. 1807.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="COMPOSED_BY_THE_SIDE_OF_GRASMERE" id="COMPOSED_BY_THE_SIDE_OF_GRASMERE"></a>COMPOSED BY THE SIDE OF GRASMERE +LAKE. 1807</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1806.—Published 1819</p> + + +<p>This sonnet was first published along with <i>The Waggoner</i> +in 1819. In 1820 it was classed among the "Miscellaneous +Sonnets," and in 1827 it was transferred to the "Sonnets +dedicated to Liberty." Previous to 1837 this sonnet had no +title.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clouds, lingering yet, extend<a name="FNanchor_1_152" id="FNanchor_1_152"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_152" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> in solid bars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the grey west; and lo! these waters, steeled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By breezeless air to smoothest polish, yield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A vivid repetition<a name="FNanchor_2_153" id="FNanchor_2_153"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_153" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> of the stars;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jove, Venus, and the ruddy crest of Mars <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid his fellows beauteously revealed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At happy distance from earth's groaning field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where ruthless mortals wage incessant wars.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it a mirror?—or the nether Sphere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opening to view the abyss in which she feeds <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her own calm fires?<a name="FNanchor_3_154" id="FNanchor_3_154"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_154" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>—But list! a voice is near;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Great Pan himself low-whispering through the reeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Be thankful, thou; for, if unholy deeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ravage the world, tranquillity is here!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_152" id="Footnote_1_152"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_152"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Eve's lingering clouds extend ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span> and 1819.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_153" id="Footnote_2_153"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_153"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1819. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A bright re-duplication ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_154" id="Footnote_3_154"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_154"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Opening a vast abyss, while fancy feeds</span><br /> +<span class="var">On the rich show? ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Opening its vast abyss, ... <span class="yearnum">1819.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Opening to view the abyss in which it feeds</span><br /> +<span class="var">Its own calm fires?—... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2 class="spec"><a name="IN_THE_GROUNDS_OF_COLEORTON_THE_SEAT_OF_SIR_GEORGE_BEAUMONT_BART_LEICESTERSHIRE" id="IN_THE_GROUNDS_OF_COLEORTON_THE_SEAT_OF_SIR_GEORGE_BEAUMONT_BART_LEICESTERSHIRE"></a>IN THE GROUNDS OF COLEORTON, THE +SEAT OF SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT, BART., +LEICESTERSHIRE</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1808.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>[In the grounds of Coleorton these verses are engraved on a +stone placed near the Tree, which was thriving and spreading +when I saw it in the summer of 1841.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Included among the "Inscriptions."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The embowering rose, the acacia, and the pine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will<a name="FNanchor_1_155" id="FNanchor_1_155"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_155" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> not unwillingly their place resign;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If but the Cedar thrive that near them stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Planted by Beaumont's and by Wordsworth's hands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One wooed the silent Art with studious pains: <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">These groves have heard the Other's pensive strains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Devoted thus, their spirits did unite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By interchange of knowledge and delight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May Nature's kindliest powers sustain the Tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Love protect it from all injury! <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when its potent branches, wide out-thrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darken the brow of this memorial Stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="FNanchor_2_156" id="FNanchor_2_156"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_156" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>Here may some Painter sit in future days,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Some future Poet meditate his lays;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not mindless of that distant age renowned <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Inspiration hovered o'er this ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The haunt of him who sang how spear and shield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In civil conflict met on Bosworth-field;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of that famous Youth, full soon removed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From earth, perhaps by Shakspeare's self approved, <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fletcher's Associate, Jonson's Friend beloved.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>About twelve years after the last visit of Wordsworth to +Coleorton, referred to in the Fenwick note—of which the date +should, I think, be 1842, not 1841—this cedar tree fell, +uprooted during a storm. It was, however, as the Coleorton +gardener who was then on the estate told me, replanted with +much labour, and protected with care; although, the top branches +being injured, it was never quite the same as it had been. +During the night of the great storm on the 13th October 1880, +however, it fell a second time, and perished irretrievably. The +memorial stone remains, injured a good deal by the wear and +tear of time; and the inscription is more than half obliterated. +It is in a situation much more exposed to the elements than +the other two inscriptions at Coleorton. He</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5h">who sang how spear and shield</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In civil conflict met on Bosworth-field,</span> +</div></div> + +<p>was Sir John Beaumont, the brother of the dramatist, who +wrote a poem on the battle of Bosworth. (See one of Wordsworth's +notes to the <i>Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle</i>, <a href="#Footnote_B_185">p. 98</a>.) +The</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5h">famous Youth, full soon removed</span><br /> +<span class="i2">From earth,</span> +</div></div> + +<p>was Francis Beaumont, the dramatist, who wrote in conjunction +with Fletcher. He died at the age of twenty-nine.</p> + +<p>In an undated letter addressed to Sir George Beaumont, +Wordsworth wrote, "I like your ancestor's verses the more, +the more I see of them. They are manly, dignified, and +extremely harmonious. I do not remember in any author of +that age such a series of well-tuned couplets."</p> + +<p>In another letter written from Grasmere (probably in 1811) +to Sir George, he says in reference to his own poems, "These +inscriptions have all one fault, they are too long; but I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +unable to do justice to the thoughts in less room. The second +has brought Sir John Beaumont and his brother Francis so livelily +to my mind that I recur to the plan of republishing the former's +poems, perhaps in connection with those of Francis."</p> + +<p>On November 16, 1811, he wrote to him again, "I am glad +that the inscriptions please you. It did always appear to me, +that inscriptions, particularly those in verse, or in a dead +language, were never supposed <i>necessarily</i> to be the composition +of those in whose name they appeared. If a more striking or +more dramatic effect could be produced, I have always thought, +that in an epitaph or memorial of any kind, a father or husband, +etc., might be introduced speaking, without any absolute deception +being intended; that is, the reader is understood to be at +liberty to say to himself,—these verses, or this Latin, may be +the composition of some unknown person, and not that of the +father, widow, or friend, from whose hand or voice they profess +to proceed.... I have altered the verses, and I have only +to regret that the alteration is not more happily done. But I +never found anything more difficult. I wished to preserve the +expression <i>patrimonial grounds</i>,<a name="FNanchor_A_157" id="FNanchor_A_157"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_157" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> but I found this impossible, on +account of the awkwardness of the pronouns, he and his, as +applied to Reynolds, and to yourself. This, even when it does +not produce confusion, is always inelegant. I was, therefore, +obliged to drop it; so that we must be content, I fear, with +the inscription as it stands below. I hope it will do. I tried +a hundred different ways, but cannot hit upon anything +better...."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_155" id="Footnote_1_155"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_155"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Shall ... <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1827 returns to that of 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_156" id="Footnote_2_156"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_156"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And to a favourite resting-place invite,</span><br /> +<span class="var">For coolness grateful and a sober light;</span> +</div></div><p> +Inserted only in the editions of 1815 and 1820, and in a MS. +letter to Sir George Beaumont, 1811.</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_157" id="Footnote_A_157"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_157"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> See <a href="#Page_79">p. 79</a>, l. 13.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IN_A_GARDEN_OF_THE_SAME" id="IN_A_GARDEN_OF_THE_SAME"></a>IN A GARDEN OF THE SAME</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1811.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>[This Niche is in the sandstone-rock in the winter-garden +at Coleorton, which garden, as has been elsewhere said, was +made under our direction out of an old unsightly quarry. While +the labourers were at work, Mrs. Wordsworth, my sister and I +used to amuse ourselves occasionally in scooping this seat out +of the soft stone. It is of the size, with something of the +appearance, of a stall in a Cathedral. This inscription is +not engraven, as the former and the two following are, in the +grounds.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Classed by Wordsworth among his "Inscriptions."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span><span class="i0">Oft is the medal faithful to its trust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When temples, columns, towers, are laid in dust;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'tis a common ordinance of fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That things obscure and small outlive the great:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence, when yon mansion and the flowery trim <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this fair garden, and its alleys dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all its stately trees, are passed away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This little Niche, unconscious of decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance may still survive. And be it known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it was scooped within<a name="FNanchor_1_158" id="FNanchor_1_158"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_158" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> the living stone,— <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not by the sluggish and ungrateful pains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of labourer plodding for his daily gains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But by an industry that wrought in love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With help from female hands, that proudly strove<a name="FNanchor_2_159" id="FNanchor_2_159"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_159" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To aid the work, what time these walks and bowers <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were shaped to cheer dark winter's lonely hours.<a name="FNanchor_3_160" id="FNanchor_3_160"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_160" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This niche is still to be seen, although not quite "unconscious +of decay." The growth of yew-trees, over and around it, has +darkened the seat; and constant damp has decayed the soft +stone. The niche having been scooped out by Mrs. Wordsworth +and Dorothy, as well as by Wordsworth, suggests the cutting +of the inscriptions on the Rock of Names in 1800, in which +they all took part. (See vol. iii. pp. 61, 62.) On his return to +Grasmere from Coleorton, Wordsworth wrote thus to Sir George +Beaumont, in an undated letter, about this inscription:—"What +follows I composed yesterday morning, thinking there might +be no impropriety in placing it so as to be visible only to a +person sitting within the niche, which is hollowed out of the +sandstone in the winter-garden. I am told that this is, in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +present form of the niche, impossible; but I shall be most ready, +when I come to Coleorton, to scoop out a place for it, if Lady +Beaumont think it worth while." Then follows the—</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Inscription</span></p> +<p class="center">Oft is the medal faithful to its trust.</p> + +<p>On Nov. 16, 1811, writing again to Sir George on this +subject of the "Inscriptions," and evidently referring to this one +on the "Niche," he says, "As to the 'Female,' and 'Male,' +I know not how to get rid of it; for that circumstance gives +the recess an appropriate interest.... On this account, the +lines had better be suppressed, for it is not improbable that +the altering of them might cost me more trouble than writing +a hundred fresh ones."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_158" id="Footnote_1_158"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_158"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">That it was fashioned in ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_159" id="Footnote_2_159"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_159"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">But by prompt hands of Pleasure and of Love,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Female and Male; that emulously strove <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_160" id="Footnote_3_160"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_160"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">To shape the work, what time these walks and bowers</span><br /> +<span class="var">Were framed to cheer dark winter's lonely hours. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... bleak ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2 class="spec"><a name="WRITTEN_AT_THE_REQUEST_OF_SIR_GEORGE_BEAUMONT" id="WRITTEN_AT_THE_REQUEST_OF_SIR_GEORGE_BEAUMONT"></a>WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF SIR GEORGE +BEAUMONT, BART., AND IN HIS NAME, FOR +AN URN, PLACED BY HIM AT THE TERMINATION +OF A NEWLY-PLANTED AVENUE, IN THE +SAME GROUNDS</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1808.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p class="center">One of the "Inscriptions."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye Lime-trees, ranged before this hallowed Urn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shoot forth with lively power at Spring's return;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And be not slow a stately growth to rear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pillars, branching off from year to year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till they have learned to frame a darksome aisle;— <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That may recal to mind that awful Pile<a name="FNanchor_1_161" id="FNanchor_1_161"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_161" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Where Reynolds, 'mid our country's noblest dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the last sanctity of fame is laid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—There, though by right the excelling Painter sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Death and Glory a joint sabbath keep, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet not the less his Spirit would hold dear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Self-hidden praise, and Friendship's private tear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence, on my patrimonial grounds, have I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raised this frail tribute to his memory;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From youth a zealous follower of the Art<a name="FNanchor_2_162" id="FNanchor_2_162"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_162" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he professed; attached to him in heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Admiring, loving, and with grief and pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feeling what England lost when Reynolds died.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>These Lime-trees now form "a stately growth of pillars," +"a darksome aisle"; and the urn remains, as set up in 1807, +at the end of the avenue.</p> + +<p>The "awful Pile," where Reynolds lies, and where—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">... Death and Glory a joint sabbath keep,</span> +</div></div> + +<p>is, of course, Westminster Abbey.</p> + +<p>After Wordsworth's return from Coleorton and Stockton to +Grasmere, he wrote thus to Sir George Beaumont:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="indentsm">"<span class="smcap">My Dear Sir George</span>,</p> + +<p class="indentsm">"Had there been room at the end of the small avenue +of lime-trees for planting a spacious circle of the same trees, the +Urn might have been placed in the centre, with the inscription +thus altered,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Ye lime-trees ranged around this hallowed urn,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Shoot forth with lively power at spring's return!</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span><span class="i2">And be not slow a stately growth to rear,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Bending your docile boughs from year to year,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Till in a solemn concave they unite;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Like that Cathedral Dome beneath whose height</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Reynolds, among our country's noble Dead,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In the last sanctity of fame is laid.</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Here may some Painter sit in future days.</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Some future poet meditate his lays!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Not mindless of that distant age, renowned,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">When inspiration hovered o'er this ground,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The haunt of him who sang, how spear and shield</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In civil conflict met on Bosworth field,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And of that famous youth (full soon removed</span><br /> +<span class="i2">From earth!) by mighty Shakespeare's self approved,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Fletcher's associate, Jonson's friend beloved.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p class="indentsm">"The first couplet of the above, as it before stood, would +have appeared ludicrous, if the stone had remained after the +trees might have been gone. The couplet relating to the +household virtues did not accord with the painter and the poet; +the former being allegorical figures; the latter, living men."</p> +</div> + +<p>This letter—which is not now in the Beaumont collection at +Coleorton Hall—seems to imply that Wordsworth thought of +combining the first couplet on the Urn with the last nine lines +of the inscription for the stone behind the Cedar tree. But +this was never carried out. The inscriptions are printed in +the text as they were carved at Coleorton.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_161" id="Footnote_1_161"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_161"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Till ye have framed, at length, a darksome aisle,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Like a recess within that sacred pile</span></div></div> +<p> +MS. letter to Sir George Beaumont, 1811. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Till they at length have framed a darksome Aisle;—</span><br /> +<span class="var">Like a recess within that awful Pile <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_162" id="Footnote_2_162"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_162"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Hence, an obscure Memorial, without blame,</span><br /> +<span class="var">In these domestic Grounds, may bear his name;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Unblamed this votive Urn may oft renew</span><br /> +<span class="var">Some mild sensations to his Genius due</span><br /> +<span class="var">From One—a humble Follower of the Art</span> +</div></div><p> +Five lines instead of three in MS. letter to Sir George Beaumont, +16th November, 1811.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="FOR_A_SEAT_IN_THE_GROVES_OF" id="FOR_A_SEAT_IN_THE_GROVES_OF"></a>FOR A SEAT IN THE GROVES OF +COLEORTON</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed November 19, 1811.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p class="center">One of the "Inscriptions."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beneath yon eastern ridge, the craggy bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rugged and high, of Charnwood's forest ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand yet, but, Stranger! hidden from thy view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ivied Ruins of forlorn <span class="smcap">Grace Dieu</span>;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Erst a religious House, which<a name="FNanchor_1_163" id="FNanchor_1_163"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_163" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> day and night <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hymns resounded, and the chanted rite:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when those rites had ceased, the Spot gave birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To honourable Men of various worth:<a name="FNanchor_2_164" id="FNanchor_2_164"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_164" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, on the margin of a streamlet wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did Francis Beaumont sport, an eager child; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, under shadow of the neighbouring rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sang youthful tales of shepherds and their flocks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unconscious prelude to heroic themes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heart-breaking tears, and melancholy dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of slighted love, and scorn, and jealous rage, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With which his genius shook<a name="FNanchor_3_165" id="FNanchor_3_165"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_165" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> the buskined stage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Communities are lost, and Empires die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And things of holy use unhallowed lie;<a name="FNanchor_A_167" id="FNanchor_A_167"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_167" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They perish;—but the Intellect can raise,<a name="FNanchor_4_166" id="FNanchor_4_166"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_166" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From airy words alone, a Pile that ne'er decays. <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Charnwood forest, in Leicestershire, is an almost treeless +wold of between fifteen and sixteen thousand acres. The</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5h">eastern ridge, the craggy bound,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Rugged and high,</span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>refers probably to High Cadmon. The nunnery of Grace Dieu +was a religious house, in a retired spot near the centre of the +forest; and was built between 1236 and 1242. The English +monasteries were suppressed in 1536; but Grace Dieu, with +thirty others of the smaller monasteries, was allowed to continue +some time longer. It was finally suppressed in 1539, when the +site of the priory, with the demesne lands, was granted to Sir +Humphrey Foster, who conveyed the whole to John Beaumont. +Francis Beaumont, the dramatic poet, was born at Grace Dieu +in 1586. He died in 1615, and was buried in Westminster +Abbey.</p> + +<p>"William and I went to Grace Dieu last week. We were +enchanted with the little valley and its nooks, and the rocks of +Charnwood upon the hill."—Dorothy Wordsworth to Lady +Beaumont, November 17, 1806.</p> + +<p>This "Inscription" was composed at Grasmere, November +19, 1811, as the following extract from a letter of Wordsworth's +to Lady Beaumont indicates:—"Grasmere, Wednesday, +November 20, 1811.—My Dear Lady Beaumont—When you +see this you will think I mean to overrun you with inscriptions. +I do not mean to tax you with putting them up, only with +reading them. The following I composed yesterday morning +in a walk from Brathay, whither I had been to accompany my +sister:—</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">For a Seat in the Groves of Coleorton.</span></p> + +<p class="center">Beneath yon eastern ridge, the craggy bound.</p> + +<p>The thought of writing this inscription occurred to me many +years ago."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_163" id="Footnote_1_163"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_163"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... that ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_164" id="Footnote_2_164"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_164"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">But, when the formal Mass had long been stilled,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And wise and mighty changes were fulfilled;</span><br /> +<span class="var">That Ground gave birth to men of various Parts</span><br /> +<span class="var">For Knightly Services and liberal Arts.</span> +</div></div><p> +MS. letter to Lady Beaumont, 20th November, 1811.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_165" id="Footnote_3_165"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_165"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">With which his skill inspired ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_166" id="Footnote_4_166"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_166"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">But Truth and Intellectual Power can raise,</span> +</div></div><p> +MS. letter to Lady Beaumont, 20th November, 1811. +</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_167" id="Footnote_A_167"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_167"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In the editions of 1815 and 1820, Wordsworth appended the following +line from Daniel, as a note to the third last line of this "Inscription"— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strait all that holy was unhallowed lies.</span><br /> +<span class="i12"><span class="smcap">Daniel.</span><span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SONG_AT_THE_FEAST_OF_BROUGHAM" id="SONG_AT_THE_FEAST_OF_BROUGHAM"></a>SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM +CASTLE,</h2> + +<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Upon the Restoration of Lord Clifford, the +Shepherd, to the Estates and Honours of +his Ancestors</span></p> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807.—Published 1807</p> + + +<p>[See the note. This poem was composed at Coleorton while +I was walking to and fro along the path that led from Sir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +George Beaumont's Farmhouse, where we resided, to the Hall, +which was building at that time.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Poems of the Imagination."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Emont's murmur mingled with the Song.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The words of ancient time I thus translate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A festal strain that hath been silent long:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"From town to town, from tower to tower, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red rose is a gladsome flower.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her thirty years of winter past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red rose is revived at last;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She lifts her head for endless spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For everlasting blossoming:<a name="FNanchor_A_184" id="FNanchor_A_184"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_184" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both roses flourish, red and white:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In love and sisterly delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The two that were at strife are blended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all old troubles<a name="FNanchor_1_168" id="FNanchor_1_168"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_168" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> now are ended.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy! joy to both! but most to her <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who is the flower of Lancaster!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold her how She smiles to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On this great throng, this bright array!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair greeting doth she send to all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From every corner of the hall; <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But chiefly from above the board<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where sits in state our rightful Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Clifford to his own restored!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"They came with banner, spear, and shield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it was proved in Bosworth-field. <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not long the Avenger was withstood—</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Earth helped him with the cry of blood:<a name="FNanchor_B_185" id="FNanchor_B_185"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_185" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">St George was for us, and the might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of blessed Angels crowned the right.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud voice the Land has<a name="FNanchor_2_169" id="FNanchor_2_169"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_169" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> uttered forth, <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We loudest in the faithful north:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our fields rejoice, our mountains ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our streams proclaim a welcoming;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our strong-abodes and castles see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glory of their loyalty.<a name="FNanchor_3_170" id="FNanchor_3_170"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_170" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How glad is Skipton at this hour—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though lonely, a deserted Tower;<a name="FNanchor_4_171" id="FNanchor_4_171"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_171" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knight, squire, and yeoman, page and groom:<a name="FNanchor_5_172" id="FNanchor_5_172"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_172" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We have them at the feast of Brough'm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How glad Pendragon—though the sleep <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of years be on her!—She shall reap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A taste of this great pleasure, viewing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in a dream her own renewing.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Rejoiced is Brough, right glad I deem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside her little humble stream; <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she that keepeth watch and ward<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her statelier Eden's course to guard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They both are happy at this hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though each is but a lonely Tower:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But here is perfect joy and pride <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For one fair House by Emont's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This day, distinguished without peer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see her Master and to cheer—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him, and his Lady-mother dear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh! it was a time forlorn <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the fatherless was born—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give her wings that she may fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or she sees her infant die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swords that are with slaughter wild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hunt the Mother and the Child. <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who will take them from the light?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Yonder is a man in sight—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yonder is a house—but where?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, they must not enter there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the caves, and to the brooks, <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the clouds of heaven she looks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is speechless, but her eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray in ghostly agonies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blissful Mary, Mother mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maid and Mother undefiled, <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save a Mother and her Child!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now Who is he that bounds with joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Carrock's side, a Shepherd-boy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No thoughts hath he but thoughts that pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light as the wind along the grass. <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can this be He who hither came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In secret, like a smothered flame?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er whom such thankful tears were shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For shelter, and a poor man's bread!</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">God loves the Child; and God hath willed <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That those dear words should be fulfilled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lady's words, when forced away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last she to her Babe did say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'My own, my own, thy Fellow-guest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may not be; but rest thee, rest, <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For lowly shepherd's life is best!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas! when evil men are strong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No life is good, no pleasure long.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Boy must part from Mosedale's groves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave Blencathara's rugged coves,<a name="FNanchor_C_186" id="FNanchor_C_186"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_186" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quit the flowers that summer brings<a name="FNanchor_D_187" id="FNanchor_D_187"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_187" class="fnanchor">[D]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Glenderamakin's lofty springs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must vanish, and his careless cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be turned to heaviness and fear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Give Sir Lancelot Threlkeld praise! <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear it, good man, old in days!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou tree of covert and of rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this young Bird that is distrest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among thy branches safe he lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he was free to sport and play, <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When falcons were abroad for prey.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A recreant harp, that sings of fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heaviness in Clifford's ear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I said, when evil men are strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No life is good, no pleasure long, <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A weak and cowardly untruth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our Clifford was a happy Youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thankful through a weary time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That brought him up to manhood's prime.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Again he wanders forth at will, <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span><span class="i0">And tends a flock from hill to hill:<a name="FNanchor_6_173" id="FNanchor_6_173"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_173" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His garb is humble; ne'er was seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such garb with such a noble mien;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the shepherd grooms no mate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath he, a Child of strength and state! <span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet lacks not friends for simple<a name="FNanchor_7_174" id="FNanchor_7_174"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_174" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor yet for higher sympathy.<a name="FNanchor_8_175" id="FNanchor_8_175"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_175" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his side the fallow-deer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came, and rested without fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eagle, lord of land and sea, <span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stooped down to pay him fealty;<a name="FNanchor_E_188" id="FNanchor_E_188"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_188" class="fnanchor">[E]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And both the undying fish that swim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through Bowscale-tarn did wait on him;<a name="FNanchor_F_189" id="FNanchor_F_189"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_189" class="fnanchor">[F]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pair were servants of his eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In their immortality; <span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glancing, gleaming, dark or bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved to and fro, for his delight.<a name="FNanchor_9_176" id="FNanchor_9_176"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_176" class="fnanchor">[9]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knew the rocks which Angels haunt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon<a name="FNanchor_10_177" id="FNanchor_10_177"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_177" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> the mountains visitant;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hath kenned<a name="FNanchor_11_178" id="FNanchor_11_178"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_178" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> them taking wing: <span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span><span class="i0">And into caves<a name="FNanchor_12_179" id="FNanchor_12_179"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_179" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> where Faeries sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hath entered; and been told<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Voices how men lived of old.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the heavens his eye can see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The face of thing<a name="FNanchor_13_180" id="FNanchor_13_180"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_180" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> that is to be; <span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, if that men report him right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His tongue could whisper words of might.<a name="FNanchor_14_181" id="FNanchor_14_181"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_181" class="fnanchor">[14]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Now another day is come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fitter hope, and nobler doom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hath thrown aside his crook, <span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hath buried deep his book;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Armour rusting in his halls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the blood of Clifford calls;—<a name="FNanchor_G_190" id="FNanchor_G_190"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_190" class="fnanchor">[G]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Quell the Scot,' exclaims the Lance—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear me to the heart of France, <span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the longing of the Shield—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell thy name, thou trembling Field;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Field of death, where'er thou be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Groan thou with our victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy day, and mighty hour, <span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When our Shepherd, in his power,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Mailed and horsed, with lance and sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his ancestors restored<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a re-appearing Star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a glory from afar, <span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">First shall head the flock of war!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! the impassioned minstrel did not know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How, by Heaven's grace, this Clifford's heart was framed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How he, long forced in humble walks to go,<a name="FNanchor_15_182" id="FNanchor_15_182"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_182" class="fnanchor">[15]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was softened into feeling, soothed, and tamed. <span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love had he found in huts where poor men lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His daily teachers had been woods and rills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silence that is in<a name="FNanchor_16_183" id="FNanchor_16_183"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_183" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> the starry sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sleep that is among the lonely hills.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In him the savage virtue of the Race, <span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor did he change; but kept in lofty place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wisdom which adversity had bred.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glad were the vales, and every cottage-hearth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Shepherd-lord was honoured more and more; <span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, ages after he was laid in earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The good Lord Clifford" was the name he bore.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The original text of this <i>Song</i> was altered but little in +succeeding editions, and was not changed at all till 1836 and +1845. The following is Wordsworth's explanatory note, +appended to the poem in all the editions:—</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"Henry Lord Clifford, etc. etc., who is the subject of this +Poem, was the son of John, Lord Clifford, who was slain at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +Towton Field,<a name="FNanchor_H_191" id="FNanchor_H_191"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_191" class="fnanchor">[H]</a> which John, Lord Clifford, as is known to the +Reader of English History, was the person who after the battle +of Wakefield slew, in the pursuit, the young Earl of Rutland, +Son of the Duke of York who had fallen in the battle, 'in part +of revenge' (say the Authors of the <i>History of Cumberland and +Westmoreland</i>); 'for the Earl's Father had slain his.' A deed +which worthily blemished the author (saith Speed); But who, +as he adds, 'dare promise any thing temperate of himself in the +heat of martial fury? chiefly, when it was resolved not to leave +any branch of the York line standing; for so one maketh this +Lord to speak.' This, no doubt, I would observe by the bye, +was an action sufficiently in the vindictive spirit of the times, +and yet not altogether so bad as represented; 'for the Earl +was no child, as some writers would have him, but able to +bear arms, being sixteen or seventeen years of age, as is evident +from this (say the Memoirs of the Countess of Pembroke, who +was laudably anxious to wipe away, as far as could be, this +stigma from the illustrious name to which she was born); that +he was the next Child to King Edward the Fourth, which his +mother had by Richard Duke of York, and that King was then +eighteen years of age: and for the small distance betwixt her +Children, see Austin Vincent in his book of Nobility, page 622, +where he writes of them all. It may further be observed, that +Lord Clifford, who was then himself only twenty-five years of +age, had been a leading Man and Commander, two or three +years together in the Army of Lancaster, before this time; and, +therefore, would be less likely to think that the Earl of Rutland +might be entitled to mercy from his youth.—But, independent +of this act, at best a cruel and savage one, the Family of Clifford +had done enough to draw upon them the vehement hatred of +the House of York: so that after the Battle of Towton there +was no hope for them but in flight and concealment. Henry, +the subject of the Poem, was deprived of his estate and honours +during the space of twenty-four years; all which time he lived +as a shepherd in Yorkshire, or in Cumberland, where the estate +of his Father-in-law (Sir Lancelot Threlkeld) lay. He was +restored to his estate and honours in the first year of Henry the +Seventh. It is recorded that, 'when called to parliament, he +behaved nobly and wisely; but otherwise came seldom to +London or the Court; and rather delighted to live in the +country, where he repaired several of his Castles, which had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +gone to decay during the late troubles.' Thus far is chiefly +collected from Nicholson and Burn; and I can add, from my +own knowledge, that there is a tradition current in the village +of Threlkeld and its neighbourhood, his principal retreat, that, +in the course of his shepherd life, he had acquired great +astronomical knowledge. I cannot conclude this note without +adding a word upon the subject of those numerous and noble +feudal Edifices, spoken of in the Poem, the ruins of some of +which are, at this day, so great an ornament to that interesting +country. The Cliffords had always been distinguished for an +honourable pride in these Castles; and we have seen that after +the wars of York and Lancaster they were rebuilt; in the civil +Wars of Charles the First, they were again laid waste, and +again restored almost to their former magnificence by the +celebrated Lady Anne Clifford, Countess of Pembroke, etc. etc. +Not more than twenty-five years after this was done, when the +Estates of Clifford had passed into the Family of Tufton, three +of these Castles, namely Brough, Brougham, and Pendragon, +were demolished, and the timber and other materials sold by +Thomas Earl of Thanet. We will hope that, when this order +was issued, the Earl had not consulted the text of Isaiah, 58th +Chap. 12th Verse, to which the inscription placed over the gate +of Pendragon Castle, by the Countess of Pembroke (I believe +his Grandmother) at the time she repaired that structure, refers +the reader. '<i>And they that shall be of thee shall build the old +waste places; thou shalt raise up the foundations of many +generations, and thou shalt be called the repairer of the breach, +the restorer of paths to dwell in.</i>' The Earl of Thanet, the +present possessor of the Estates, with a due respect for the +memory of his ancestors, and a proper sense of the value and +beauty of these remains of antiquity, has (I am told) given +orders that they shall be preserved from all depredations."</p> + +<p>Compare the reference to the "Shepherd-lord" in the first +canto of <i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i>, <a href="#Page_116">p. 116</a>, and the topographical +allusions there, with this <i>Song</i>. Compare also the life of +Anne Clifford, in Hartley Coleridge's <i>Lives of Distinguished +Northerners</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>And Emont's murmur mingled with the Song.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Brougham Castle, past which the river Emont flows, is +about two miles out of Penrith, on the Appleby Road. It is +now a ruin, but was once a place of importance. The larger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +part of it was built by Roger, Lord Clifford, son of Isabella +de Veteripont, who placed over the inner door the inscription, +"This made Roger." His grandson added the eastern part. +The castle was frequently laid waste by the Scottish Bands, +and during the Wars of the Roses. The Earl of Cumberland +entertained James I. within it, in 1617, on the occasion of the +king's last return from Scotland; but it seems to have "layen +ruinous" from that date, and to have suffered much during the +civil wars in the reign of Charles I. In 1651-52 it was repaired +by Lady Anne Clifford, Countess Dowager of Pembroke, who +wrote thus—"After I had been there myself to direct the +building of it, did I cause my old decayed castle of Brougham +to be repaired, and also the tower called the "Roman Tower," in +the same old castle, and the court-house, for keeping my courts +in, with some dozen or fourteen rooms to be built in it upon +the old foundation." (<i>Pembroke Memoirs</i>, i. p. 216.) After +the time of the Countess Anne, the castle was neglected, and +much of the stone, timber, and lead disposed of at public sales: +the wainscotting being purchased by the neighbouring villagers.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Her thirty years of winter past,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>The red rose is revived at last.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This refers to the thirty years interval between 1455 (the +first battle of St. Albans in the wars of the Roses) and 1485 +(the battle of Bosworth and the accession of Henry VII.)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Both roses flourish, red and white</i>,</span> +</div></div> + +<p>Alluding to the marriage of Henry VII. with Elizabeth, +which united the two warring lines of York and Lancaster.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>And it was proved in Bosworth-field.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The battle of Bosworth Field, in Leicestershire, was fought +in 1485.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Not long the Avenger was withstood—</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Earth helped him with the cry of blood.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Henry VII.—who, as Henry, Earl of Richmond, last scion +of the line of Lancaster, had fled to Brittany—returned with +Morton, the exiled Bishop of Ely, landed at Milford, advanced +through Wales, and met the royal army at Bosworth, where +Richard was slain, and Henry crowned king on the battlefield. +The "cry of blood" refers, doubtless, to the murder of the +young princes in the Tower.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>How glad is Skipton at this hour—</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Though lonely, a deserted Tower.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Skipton is the "capital" of the Craven district of Yorkshire, +as Barrow is the capital of the Furness district of Lancashire +and Westmoreland. The castle of Skipton was the chief +residence of the Cliffords. Architecturally it is of two periods: +the round tower dating from the reign of Edward II., and the +rest from that of Henry VIII. From the time of Robert de +Clifford, who fell at Bannockburn (1314), until the seventeenth +century, the estates of the Cliffords extended from Skipton to +Brougham Castle—seventy miles—with only a short interruption +of ten miles. The "Shepherd-lord" Clifford of this poem +was attainted—as explained in Wordsworth's note—by the +triumphant House of York. He was "committed by his +mother to the care of certain shepherds, whose wives had +served her," and who kept him concealed both in Cumberland, +and at Londesborough, in Yorkshire, where his mother's (Lady +Margaret Vesci) own estates lay. The old "Tower" of +Skipton Castle was "deserted" during these years when the +"Shepherd-lord" was concealed in Cumberland.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>How glad Pendragon—though the sleep</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Of years be on her!</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Pendragon Castle, in a narrow dell in the forest of Mallerstang, +near the source of the Eden, south of Kirkby-Stephen, +was another of the castles of the Cliffords. Its building was +traditionally ascribed to Uter Pendragon, of Stonehenge +celebrity, who was fabled to have tried to make the Eden flow +round the castle of Pendragon: hence the distich—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Let Uter Pendragon do what he can,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Eden will run where Eden ran.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the Countess of Pembroke's <i>Memoirs</i> (vol. i. pp. 22, +228), we are told that Idonea de Veteripont "made a great +part of her residence in Westmoreland at Brough Castle, near +Stanemore, and at Pendragon Castle, in Mallerstang." The +castle was burned and destroyed by Scottish raiders in 1341, +and for 140 years it was in a ruinous state. It is probably to +this that reference is made in the phrase, "though the sleep of +years be on her." During the attainder of Henry Lord +Clifford, in the reign of Edward IV., part of this estate of +Mallerstang was granted to Sir William Parr of Kendal Castle.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +It was again destroyed during the civil wars of the Stuarts, and +was restored, along with Skipton and Brougham, by Lady +Anne Clifford, in 1660, who put up an inscription +"... Repaired in 1660, so as she came to lye in it herself +for a little while in October 1661, after it had lain ruinous +without timber or any other covering since 1541. Isaiah, chap. +lviii. ver. 12." It was again demolished in 1685.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Rejoiced is Brough, right glad I deem</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Beside her little humble stream.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Brough—the Verterae of the Romans—is called, for distinction's +sake, "Brough-under-Stainmore" (or "Stanemore"). +The "little humble stream" is Hillbeck, formerly Hellebeck—(it +was said to derive its name from the waters rushing or +"helleing" down the channel)—which descends from Warcop +Fell, runs through Market Brough, and joins the Eden below it. +The date of the building of the castle of Brough is uncertain, but +it is probably older than the Conquest. It was sacked by the +Scottish King William in 1174. It was "one of the chief +residences" of Idonea de Veteripont (above referred to); +for "then it was in its prime." (<i>Pemb. Mem.</i>, vol. i. +p. 22.) Probably she rebuilt it, and changed it from a tower—like +Pendragon—into a castle. In the <i>Pembroke Memoirs</i> +(i. p. 108), we read of its subsequent destruction by fire. "A +great misfortune befell Henry Lord Clifford, some two years +before his death, which happened in 1521; his ancient and +great castle of Brough-under-Stanemore was set on fire by a +casual mischance, a little after he had kept a great Christmas +there, so as all the timber and lead were utterly consumed, and +nothing left but the bare walls, which since are more and more +consumed, and quite ruinated." This same Countess Anne +Pembroke began to repair it in April 1660, "at her exceeding +great charge and cost." She put up an inscription over the +gate similar to the one which she inscribed at Pendragon.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>And she that keepeth watch and ward</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Her statelier Eden's course to guard.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Doubtless Appleby Castle. Its origin is equally uncertain. +Before 1422, John Lord Clifford, "builded that strong and +fine artificial gate-house, all arched with stone, and decorated +with the arms of the Veteriponts, Cliffords, and Percys, which +with several parts of the castle walls was defaced and broken +down in the civil war of 1648." His successor, Thomas, Lord<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +Clifford, "built the chiefest part of the castle towards the east, +as the hall, the chapel, and the great chamber." This was in +1454. The Countess Anne Pembroke wrote of Appleby Castle +thus (<i>Pemb. Mem.</i>, vol. i. p. 187): "In 1651 I continued to +live in Appleby Castle a whole year, and spent much time in +repairing it and Brougham Castle, to make them as habitable +as I could, though Brougham was very ruinous, and much out +of repair. And in this year, the 21st of April, I helped to lay +the foundation stone of the middle wall of the great tower of +Appleby Castle, called "Cæsar's Tower," to the end it might be +repaired again, and made habitable, if it pleased God (Is. lviii. +12), after it had stood without a roof or covering, or one +chamber habitable in it, since about 1567," etc. etc.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>One fair House by Emont's side.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Brougham Castle.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Him, and his Lady-mother dear!</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Lady Margaret, daughter and heiress of Lord Vesci, who +married John, Lord Clifford—the Clifford of Shakespeare's +<i>Henry VI.</i> He was killed at Ferrybridge near Knottingley in +1461. Their son was Henry, "the Shepherd-lord." His mother +is buried in Londesborough Church, near Market Weighton.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Now Who is he that bounds with joy</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>On Carrock's side, a Shepherd-boy?</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Carrock-fell is three miles south-west from Castle Sowerby, +in Cumberland.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>The Boy must part from Mosedale's groves,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>And leave Blencathara's rugged coves.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There are many "Mosedales" in the English Lake District. +The one referred to here is to the north of Blencathara or +Saddleback.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>And quit the flowers that summer brings</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>To Glenderamakin's lofty springs.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The river Glenderamakin rises in the lofty ground to the +north of Blencathara.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>—Give Sir Lancelot Threlkeld praise!</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><span style="letter-spacing: 2em;">·······<br /></span></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Thou tree of covert and of rest</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>For this young Bird that is distrest.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>It was on Sir Lancelot Threlkeld's estates in Cumberland +that the young Lord was concealed, disguised as a shepherd-boy. +He was the "tree of covert" for the young "Bird" +Henry Clifford. Compare <i>The Waggoner</i>, ll. 628-39 (vol. iii. +p. 100)—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And see, beyond that hamlet small,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The ruined towers of Threlkeld-hall,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Lurking in a double shade,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">By trees and lingering twilight made!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">There, at Blencathara's rugged feet,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Sir Lancelot gave a safe retreat</span><br /> +<span class="i2">To noble Clifford; from annoy</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Concealed the persecuted boy,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Well pleased in rustic garb to feed</span><br /> +<span class="i2">His flock, and pipe on shepherd's reed</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Among this multitude of hills,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Crags, woodlands, waterfalls, and rills.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>The old hall of Threlkeld has long been a ruin. Its only +habitable part has been a farmhouse for many years.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>And both the undying fish that swim</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Through Bowscale-tarn did wait on him.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Bowscale Tarn is to the north of Blencathara. Its stream +joins the Caldew river.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>And into caves where Faeries sing</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>He hath entered.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Compare the previous reference to Blencathara's "rugged +coves." There are many such on this mountain.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Alas! the impassioned minstrel did not know</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>How, by Heaven's grace, this Clifford's heart was framed:</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>How he, long forced in humble walks to go,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Was softened into feeling, soothed, and tamed.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>After restoration to his ancestral estates, the Shepherd-lord +preferred to live in comparative retirement. He spent most of +his time at Barden Tower (see <a href="#Footnote_U_418">notes</a> to <i>The White Doe +of Rylstone</i>), which he enlarged, and where he lived with a +small retinue. He was much at Bolton (which was close at +hand), and there he studied astronomy and alchemy, aided by +the monks. It is to the time when he lived at Threlkeld, however—wandering +as a shepherd-boy, over the ridges and around +the coves of Blencathara, amongst the groves of Mosedale, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +by the lofty springs of Glenderamakin—that Wordsworth refers +in the lines,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Love had he found in huts where poor men lie;</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>His daily teachers had been woods and rills,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>The silence that is in the starry sky,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>The sleep that is among the lonely hills.</i></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He was at Flodden in 1513, when nearly sixty years of age, +leading there the "flower of Craven."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">From Penigent to Pendle Hill,</span><br /> +<span class="i3">From Linton to long Addingham,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And all that Craven's coasts did till,</span><br /> +<span class="i3">They with the lusty Clifford came.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>Compare, in the first canto of <i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i> +(<a href="#Page_117">p. 117</a>)—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5h">when he, with spear and shield,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Rode full of years to Flodden-field.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>He died in 1523, and was buried in the choir of Bolton +Priory.</p> + +<p>The following is Sarah Coleridge's criticism of the <a href="#SONG_AT_THE_FEAST_OF_BROUGHAM"><i>Song at the +Feast of Brougham Castle</i></a>, in the editorial note to her father's +<i>Biographia Literaria</i> (vol. ii. ch. ix. p. 152, ed. 1847):—</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"The transitions and vicissitudes in this noble lyric I have +always thought rendered it one of the finest specimens of modern +subjective poetry which our age has seen. The ode commences +in a tone of high gratulation and festivity—a tone not only glad, +but <i>comparatively</i> even jocund and light-hearted. The Clifford +is restored to the home, the honours and estates of his ancestors. +Then it sinks and falls away to the remembrance of tribulation—times +of war and bloodshed, flight and terror, and hiding +away from the enemy—times of poverty and distress, when +the Clifford was brought, a little child, to the shelter of a +northern valley. After a while it emerges from those depths of +sorrow—gradually rises into a strain of elevated tranquillity and +contemplative rapture; through the power of imagination, the +beautiful and impressive aspects of nature are brought into +relationship with the spirit of him, whose fortunes and character +form the subject of the piece, and are represented as +gladdening and exalting it, whilst they keep it <i>pure and unspotted +from the world</i>. Suddenly the Poet is carried on with +greater animation and passion: he has returned to the point +whence he started—flung himself back into the tide of stirring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +life and moving events. All is to come over again, struggle +and conflict, chances and changes of war, victory and triumph, +overthrow and desolation. I know nothing, in lyric poetry, +more beautiful or affecting than the final transition from this +part of the ode, with its rapid metre, to the slow elegiac stanzas +at the end, when, from the warlike fervour and eagerness, the +jubilant strain which has just been described, the Poet passes +back into the sublime silence of Nature, gathering amid her +deep and quiet bosom a more subdued and solemn tenderness +than he had manifested before; it is as if from the heights of +the imaginative intellect, his spirit had retreated into the recesses +of a profoundly thoughtful Christian heart."</p> + +<p>Professor Henry Reed said of this poem—"Had he never +written another ode, this alone would set him at the head of +the lyric poets of England."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_168" id="Footnote_1_168"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_168"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... sorrows ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_169" id="Footnote_2_169"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_169"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... hath ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_170" id="Footnote_3_170"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_170"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... royalty. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1820 returns to that of 1807. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_171" id="Footnote_4_171"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_171"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Though she is but a lonely Tower!</span><br /> +<span class="var">Silent, deserted of her best,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Without an Inmate or a Guest, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Deserted, emptied of her best. <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">To vacancy and silence left;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Of all her guardian sons bereft— <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_172" id="Footnote_5_172"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_172"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Knight, Squire, or Yeoman, Page, or Groom; <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_173" id="Footnote_6_173"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_173"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... on vale and hill: <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_174" id="Footnote_7_174"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_174"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... solemn ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_175" id="Footnote_8_175"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_175"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> 1845. This line was previously three lines— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And a chearful company,</span><br /> +<span class="var">That learn'd of him submissive ways;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And comforted his private days. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A spirit-soothing company, <span class="yearnum">1836.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_176" id="Footnote_9_176"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_176"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">They moved about in open sight,</span><br /> +<span class="var">To and fro, for his delight. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_177" id="Footnote_10_177"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_177"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">On ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_178" id="Footnote_11_178"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_178"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... heard ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_179" id="Footnote_12_179"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_179"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And the Caves ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_180" id="Footnote_13_180"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_180"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Face of thing ... <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_181" id="Footnote_14_181"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_181"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1840. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And, if Men report him right,</span><br /> +<span class="var">He can whisper words of might. <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">He could whisper ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And, if that men report him right,</span><br /> +<span class="var">He could whisper ... <span class="yearnum">1836.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_182" id="Footnote_15_182"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_182"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Alas! the fervent Harper did not know</span><br /> +<span class="var">That for a tranquil Soul the Lay was framed,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Who, long compell'd in humble walks to go, <span class="yearnum">1807.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_183" id="Footnote_16_183"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_183"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> 1807. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... of ... <span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">MS.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_184" id="Footnote_A_184"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_184"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare <i>Hudibras</i>, part <span class="allcapsc">II.</span> canto i. ll. 567-8— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That shall infuse Eternal Spring</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And everlasting flourishing.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_185" id="Footnote_B_185"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_185"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> This line is from <i>The Battle of Bosworth Field</i>, by Sir John Beaumont +(Brother to the Dramatist), whose poems are written with so much spirit, +elegance, and harmony, that it is supposed, as the Book is very scarce, a +new edition of it would be acceptable to Scholars and Men of taste, and, +accordingly, it is in contemplation to give one.—W. W. 1807. +</p><p> +Beaumont's line in <i>The Battle of Bosworth Field</i> is— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The earth assists thee with the cry of blood.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_186" id="Footnote_C_186"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_186"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> "No three words could better describe the gulfs on the side of Saddleback." +(H. D. Rawnsley.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_187" id="Footnote_D_187"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_187"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> "Rugged patches of Hawkweed, golden rod, and white water ranunculus +in the pools." (H. D. Rawnsley.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_188" id="Footnote_E_188"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_188"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> The eagle nested in Borrowdale as late as 1785.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_189" id="Footnote_F_189"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_189"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> It is imagined by the people of the Country that there are two immortal +Fish, Inhabitants of this Tarn, which lies in the mountains not far from +Threlkeld. Blencathara, mentioned before, is the old and proper name of +the mountain vulgarly called Saddle-back.—W. W. 1807.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_190" id="Footnote_G_190"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_190"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> The martial character of the Cliffords is well known to the readers of +English History; but it may not be improper here to say, by way of comment +on these lines and what follows, that, besides several others who +perished in the same manner, the four immediate Progenitors of the person +in whose hearing this is supposed to be spoken, all died in the Field.—W. W. +1807. +</p><p> +Compare <i>The Borderers</i>, act <span class="allcapsc">III.</span> l. 56 (vol. i. p. 173)— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They say, Lord Clifford is a savage man.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_191" id="Footnote_H_191"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_191"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> He was killed at Ferrybridge the day before the battle of Towton.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Year_1808" id="Year_1808"></a>1808</h2> + + +<p>The poems referring to Coleorton are all transferred to +the year 1807, and <i>The Force of Prayer</i> was written in that +year. Those composed in 1808 were few in number. With +the exception of <i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i>—to which additions +were made in that year—they include only the two sonnets +<i>Composed while the Author was engaged in writing a Tract, +occasioned by the Convention of Cintra</i>, and the fragment on +<i>George and Sarah Green</i>. The latter poem Wordsworth gave +to De Quincey, who published it in his "Recollections of +Grasmere," which appeared in <i>Tait's Edinburgh Magazine</i> in +September 1839; but it never found a place in any edition of +Wordsworth's own poems. In this edition it is printed in the +appendix to volume viii.</p> + +<p>The reasons which have led me to assign <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of +Rylstone</i></a> to the year 1808, are stated in a note to the poem +(see <a href="#Page_191">p. 191</a>). I infer that it was practically finished in April +1808, because Dorothy Wordsworth, in a letter to Lady Beaumont, +dated April 20, 1808, says, "The poem is to be +published. Longman has consented—in spite of the odium +under which my brother labours as a poet—to give him 100 +guineas for 1000 copies, according to his demand." She gives +no indication of the name of the poem referred to. As it must, +however, have been one which was to be published separately, +she can only refer to <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe</i></a> or to <i>The Excursion</i>; +but the latter poem was not finished in 1808.</p> + +<p>It is probable, from the remark made in a subsequent letter +to Lady Beaumont, February 1810, that Wordsworth intended +either to add to what he had written in 1808, or to alter some +passages before publication; or by "completing" the poem, he +may have meant simply adding the Dedication, which was +not written till 1815.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>All things considered, it seems the best arrangement that the +poems of 1808 should begin with <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a>. +In the year 1891 I edited this poem for the Clarendon Press. +A few additional details have come to light since then, and are +introduced into the notes. S. T. Coleridge's criticism of the +poem in <i>Biographia Literaria</i>, vol. ii. chap. xxii. p. 176 (edition +1817), should be consulted.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE" id="THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"></a>THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE;</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Or, The Fate of the Nortons</span></h3> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807-10.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p class="center">ADVERTISEMENT</p> + +<p>During the Summer of 1807, I visited, for the first time, the +beautiful country that surrounds Bolton Priory, in Yorkshire; +and the Poem of the <span class="smcap">White Doe</span>, founded upon a Tradition +connected with that place, was composed at the close of the +same year.—W. W.<a name="FNanchor_A_398" id="FNanchor_A_398"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_398" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + +<p>[The earlier half of this poem was composed at Stockton-upon-Tees, +when Mrs. Wordsworth and I were on a visit to her +eldest brother, Mr. Hutchinson, at the close of the year 1807. +The country is flat, and the weather was rough. I was +accustomed every day to walk to and fro under the shelter of a +row of stacks, in a field at a small distance from the town, and +there poured forth my verses aloud as freely as they would +come. Mrs. Wordsworth reminds me that her brother stood +upon the punctilio of not sitting down to dinner till I joined +the party; and it frequently happened that I did not make my +appearance till too late, so that she was made uncomfortable. +I here beg her pardon for this and similar transgressions during +the whole course of our wedded life. To my beloved sister the +same apology is due.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>When, from the visit just mentioned, we returned to Town-end, +Grasmere, I proceeded with the poem; and it may be +worth while to note, as a caution to others who may cast their +eye on these memoranda, that the skin having been rubbed off +my heel by my wearing too tight a shoe, though I desisted from +walking, I found that the irritation of the wounded part was +kept up, by the act of composition, to a degree that made it +necessary to give my constitution a holiday. A rapid cure was +the consequence. Poetic excitement, when accompanied by +protracted labour in composition, has throughout my life brought +on more or less bodily derangement. Nevertheless, I am at +the close of my seventy-third year, in what may be called +excellent health; so that intellectual labour is not necessarily +unfavourable to longevity. But perhaps I ought here to add +that mine has been generally carried on out of doors.</p> + +<p>Let me here say a few words of this poem in the way of +criticism. The subject being taken from feudal times has led +to its being compared to some of Walter Scott's poems that +belong to the same age and state of society. The comparison +is inconsiderate. Sir Walter pursued the customary and very +natural course of conducting an action, presenting various turns +of fortune, to some outstanding point on which the mind might +rest as a termination or catastrophe. The course I have +attempted to pursue is entirely different. Everything that is +attempted by the principal personages in <i>The White Doe</i> fails, +so far as its object is external and substantial. So far as it is +moral and spiritual it succeeds. The heroine of the poem knows +that her duty is not to interfere with the current of events, +either to forward or delay them, but</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i9h">to abide</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The shock, and finally secure</span><br /> +<span class="i2">O'er pain and grief a triumph pure.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>This she does in obedience to her brother's injunction, as +most suitable to a mind and character that, under previous trials, +has been proved to accord with his. She achieves this not +without aid from the communication with the inferior Creature, +which often leads her thoughts to revolve upon the past with a +tender and humanising influence that exalts rather than depresses +her. The anticipated beatification, if I may so say, of her +mind, and the apotheosis of the companion of her solitude, are +the points at which the Poem aims, and constitute its legitimate +catastrophe, far too spiritual a one for instant or widely-spread +sympathy, but not, therefore, the less fitted to make a deep and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +permanent impression upon that class of minds who think and +feel more independently, than the many do, of the surfaces of +things and interests transitory, because belonging more to the +outward and social forms of life than to its internal spirit. How +insignificant a thing, for example, does personal prowess appear +compared with the fortitude of patience and heroic martyrdom; +in other words, with struggles for the sake of principle, in +preference to victory gloried in for its own sake.—I. F.]</p> + + +<p class="bindent2">DEDICATION</p> + + +<p class="bindentx">I</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In trellised shed with clustering roses gay,<a name="FNanchor_B_399" id="FNanchor_B_399"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_399" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, <span class="smcap">Mary</span>! oft beside our blazing fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When years of wedded life were as a day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose current answers to the heart's desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did we together read in Spenser's Lay <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How Una, sad of soul—in sad attire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gentle Una, of celestial birth,<a name="FNanchor_1_192" id="FNanchor_1_192"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_192" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seek her Knight went wandering o'er the earth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindentx">II</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, then, Belovèd! pleasing was the smart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tear precious in compassion shed <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Her, who, pierced by sorrow's thrilling dart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did meekly bear the pang unmerited;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meek as that emblem of her lowly heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The milk-white Lamb which in a line she led,—<a name="FNanchor_C_400" id="FNanchor_C_400"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_400" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faithful, loyal in her innocence, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the brave Lion slain in her defence.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> +<p class="bindentx">III</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Notes could we hear as of a faery shell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attuned to words with sacred wisdom fraught;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free Fancy prized each specious miracle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all its finer inspiration caught; <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till in the bosom of our rustic Cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We by a lamentable change were taught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That "bliss with mortal Man may not abide:"<a name="FNanchor_D_401" id="FNanchor_D_401"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_401" class="fnanchor">[D]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How nearly joy and sorrow are allied!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindentx">IV</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For us the stream of fiction ceased to flow, <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For us the voice of melody was mute.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—But, as soft gales dissolve the dreary snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give the timid herbage leave to shoot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven's breathing influence failed not to bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A timely promise of unlooked-for fruit, <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair fruit of pleasure and serene content<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From blossoms wild of fancies innocent.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindentx">V</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It soothed us—it beguiled us—then, to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more of troubles wrought by magic spell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And griefs whose aery motion comes not near <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pangs that tempt the Spirit to rebel:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, with mild Una in her sober cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High over hill and low adown the dell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again we wandered, willing to partake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that she suffered for her dear Lord's sake. <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindentx">VI</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, too, this Song <i>of mine</i> once more could please,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where anguish, strange as dreams of restless sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is tempered and allayed by sympathies</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Aloft ascending, and descending deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even to the inferior Kinds; whom forest-trees <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Protect from beating sunbeams, and the sweep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the sharp winds;—fair Creatures!—to whom Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A calm and sinless life, with love, hath given.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindentx">VII</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This tragic Story cheered us; for it speaks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of female patience winning firm repose; <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, of the recompense that<a name="FNanchor_2_193" id="FNanchor_2_193"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_193" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> conscience seeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bright, encouraging, example shows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Needful when o'er wide realms the tempest breaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Needful amid life's ordinary woes;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence, not for them unfitted who would bless <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A happy hour with holier happiness.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindentx">VIII</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He serves the Muses erringly and ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose aim is pleasure light and fugitive:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, that my mind were equal to fulfil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The comprehensive mandate which they give— <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain aspiration of an earnest will!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet in this moral Strain a power may live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Belovèd Wife! such solace to impart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As it hath yielded to thy tender heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rydal Mount, Westmoreland</span>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>April</i> 20, 1815.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Action is transitory—a step, a blow, <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The motion of a muscle—this way or that—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis done; and in the after-vacancy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And has the nature of infinity. <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet through that darkness (infinite though it seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And irremovable) gracious openings lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which the soul—with patient steps of thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now toiling, wafted now on wings of prayer—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May pass in hope, and, though from mortal bonds <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet undelivered, rise with sure ascent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even to the fountain-head of peace divine."<a name="FNanchor_E_402" id="FNanchor_E_402"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_402" class="fnanchor">[E]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="blockquot">"They that deny a God, destroy Man's nobility: for certainly +Man is of kinn to the Beast by his Body; and if he be not of +kinn to God by his Spirit, he is a base ignoble Creature. It +destroys likewise Magnanimity, and the raising of humane +Nature: for take an example of a Dogg, and mark what a +generosity and courage he will put on, when he finds himself +maintained by a Man, who to him is instead of a God, or +Melior Natura. Which courage is manifestly such, as that +Creature without that confidence of a better Nature than his +own could never attain. So Man, when he resteth and assureth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +himself upon Divine protection and favour, gathereth a force +and faith which human Nature in itself could not obtain."<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20em;"> +<span class="smcap">Lord Bacon.</span></span><a name="FNanchor_F_403" id="FNanchor_F_403"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_403" class="fnanchor">[F]</a><br /> +<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="bindent2">CANTO FIRST</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From Bolton's old monastic tower<a name="FNanchor_G_404" id="FNanchor_G_404"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_404" class="fnanchor">[G]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bells ring loud with gladsome power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun shines<a name="FNanchor_3_194" id="FNanchor_3_194"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_194" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> bright; the fields are gay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With people in their best array<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of stole and doublet, hood and scarf, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the banks of crystal Wharf,<a name="FNanchor_4_195" id="FNanchor_4_195"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_195" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the Vale retired and lowly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trooping to that summons holy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, up among the moorlands, see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sprinklings of blithe company! <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lasses and of shepherd grooms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That down the steep hills force their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like cattle through the budded brooms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Path, or no path, what care they?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus in joyous mood they hie <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Bolton's mouldering Priory.<a name="FNanchor_H_405" id="FNanchor_H_405"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_405" class="fnanchor">[H]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">What would they there!—full fifty years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sumptuous Pile, with all its peers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too harshly hath been doomed to taste</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">The bitterness of wrong and waste: <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its courts are ravaged; but the tower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is standing with a voice of power,<a name="FNanchor_I_406" id="FNanchor_I_406"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_406" class="fnanchor">[I]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ancient voice which wont to call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mass or some high festival;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the shattered fabric's heart <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remaineth one protected part;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Chapel, like a wild-bird's nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closely embowered and trimly drest;<a name="FNanchor_5_196" id="FNanchor_5_196"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_196" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><a name="FNanchor_J_407" id="FNanchor_J_407"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_407" class="fnanchor">[J]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thither young and old repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Sabbath-day, for praise and prayer. <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Fast the church-yard fills;—anon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look again, and they all are gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cluster round the porch, and the folk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sate in the shade of the Prior's Oak!<a name="FNanchor_K_408" id="FNanchor_K_408"></a><a href="#Footnote_K_408" class="fnanchor">[K]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scarcely have they disappeared <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the prelusive hymn is heard:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one consent the people rejoice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filling the church with a lofty voice!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They sing a service which they feel:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For 'tis the sunrise now of zeal; <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a pure faith the vernal prime—<a name="FNanchor_6_197" id="FNanchor_6_197"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_197" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In great Eliza's golden time.</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span><span class="i1">A moment ends the fervent din,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all is hushed, without and within;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For though the priest, more tranquilly, <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recites the holy liturgy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only voice which you can hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the river murmuring near.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—When soft!—the dusky trees between,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down the path through the open green, <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is no living thing to be seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through yon gateway, where is found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the arch with ivy bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free entrance to the church-yard ground—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="FNanchor_7_198" id="FNanchor_7_198"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_198" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>Comes gliding in with lovely gleam, <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes gliding in serene and slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft and silent as a dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A solitary Doe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White she is as lily of June,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And beauteous as the silver moon <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When out of sight the clouds are driven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she is left alone in heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or like a ship some gentle day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sunshine sailing far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A glittering ship, that hath the plain <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ocean for her own domain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lie silent in your graves, ye dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie quiet in your church-yard bed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye living, tend your holy cares;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye multitude, pursue your prayers; <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blame not me if my heart and sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are occupied with one delight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis a work for sabbath hours</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">If I with this bright Creature go:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether she be of forest bowers, <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the bowers of earth below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or a Spirit for one day given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pledge<a name="FNanchor_8_199" id="FNanchor_8_199"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_199" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> of grace from purest heaven.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">What harmonious pensive changes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wait upon her as she ranges <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round and through this Pile of state<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Overthrown and desolate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now a step or two her way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leads through<a name="FNanchor_9_200" id="FNanchor_9_200"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_200" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> space of open day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the enamoured sunny light <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brightens her that was so bright;<a name="FNanchor_L_409" id="FNanchor_L_409"></a><a href="#Footnote_L_409" class="fnanchor">[L]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now doth a delicate shadow fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falls upon her like a breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From some lofty arch or wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As she passes underneath: <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now some gloomy nook partakes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the glory that she makes,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High-ribbed vault of stone, or cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With perfect cunning framed as well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of stone, and ivy, and the spread <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the elder's bushy head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some jealous and forbidding cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That doth the living stars repel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where no flower hath leave to dwell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The presence of this wandering Doe <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fills many a damp obscure recess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lustre of a saintly show;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, reappearing, she no less</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Sheds on the flowers that round her blow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A more than sunny liveliness.<a name="FNanchor_10_201" id="FNanchor_10_201"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_201" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But say, among these holy places,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which thus assiduously she paces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes she with a votary's task,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rite to perform, or boon to ask?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Pilgrim! harbours she a sense <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sorrow, or of reverence?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can she be grieved for quire or shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crushed as if by wrath divine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For what survives of house where God<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was worshipped, or where Man abode; <span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For old magnificence undone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or for the gentler work begun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Nature, softening and concealing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And busy with a hand of healing?<a name="FNanchor_M_410" id="FNanchor_M_410"></a><a href="#Footnote_M_410" class="fnanchor">[M]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mourns she for lordly chamber's hearth <span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That to the sapling ash gives birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For dormitory's length laid bare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the wild rose blossoms fair;<a name="FNanchor_N_411" id="FNanchor_N_411"></a><a href="#Footnote_N_411" class="fnanchor">[N]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or altar, whence the cross was rent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now rich with mossy ornament?<a name="FNanchor_11_202" id="FNanchor_11_202"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_202" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> <span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span><span class="i0">—She sees a warrior carved in stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the thick weeds, stretched alone;<a name="FNanchor_O_412" id="FNanchor_O_412"></a><a href="#Footnote_O_412" class="fnanchor">[O]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A warrior, with his shield of pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cleaving humbly to his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hands in resignation prest, <span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Palm to palm, on his tranquil breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As little she regards the sight<a name="FNanchor_12_203" id="FNanchor_12_203"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_203" class="fnanchor">[12]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a common creature might:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If she be doomed to inward care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or service, it must lie elsewhere. <span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—But hers are eyes serenely bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on she moves—with pace how light!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor spares to stoop her head, and taste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dewy turf with flowers bestrown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus she fares, until at last<a name="FNanchor_13_204" id="FNanchor_13_204"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_204" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> <span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the ridge of a grassy grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In quietness she lays her down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gentle<a name="FNanchor_14_205" id="FNanchor_14_205"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_205" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> as a weary wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sinks, when the summer breeze hath died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against an anchored vessel's side; <span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even so, without distress, doth she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie down in peace, and lovingly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The day is placid in its going,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a lingering motion bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the crystal stream now flowing <span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span><span class="i0">With its softest summer sound:<a name="FNanchor_15_206" id="FNanchor_15_206"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_206" class="fnanchor">[15]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the balmy minutes pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While this radiant Creature lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couched upon the dewy grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pensively with downcast eyes. <span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—But now again the people raise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With awful cheer a voice of praise;<a name="FNanchor_16_207" id="FNanchor_16_207"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_207" class="fnanchor">[16]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the last, the parting song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the temple forth they throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quickly spread themselves abroad, <span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While each pursues his several road.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But some—a variegated band<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of middle-aged, and old, and young,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And little children by the hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon their leading mothers hung— <span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mute obeisance gladly paid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn towards the spot, where, full in view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white Doe, to her service true,<a name="FNanchor_17_208" id="FNanchor_17_208"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_208" class="fnanchor">[17]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sabbath couch has made.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">It was a solitary mound; <span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which two spears' length of level ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did from all other graves divide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if in some respect of pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or melancholy's sickly mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still shy of human neighbourhood; <span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or guilt, that humbly would express<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A penitential loneliness.</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span><span class="i1">"Look, there she is, my Child! draw near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She fears not, wherefore should we fear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She means no harm;"—but still the Boy, <span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom the words were softly said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung back, and smiled, and blushed for joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shamed-faced blush of glowing red!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again the Mother whispered low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now you have seen the famous Doe; <span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Rylstone she hath found her way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the hills this sabbath day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her work, whate'er it be, is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she will depart when we are gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus doth she keep, from year to year, <span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sabbath morning, foul or fair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><a name="FNanchor_18_209" id="FNanchor_18_209"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_209" class="fnanchor">[18]</a>Bright was<a name="FNanchor_19_210" id="FNanchor_19_210"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_210" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> the Creature, as in dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Boy had seen her, yea, more bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But is she truly what she seems?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He asks with insecure delight, <span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Asks of himself, and doubts,—and still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The doubt returns against his will:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though he, and all the standers-by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could tell a tragic history<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of facts divulged, wherein appear <span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Substantial motive, reason clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why thus the milk-white Doe is found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couchant beside that lonely mound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And why she duly loves to pace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The circuit of this hallowed place. <span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor to the Child's inquiring mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is such perplexity confined:</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">For, spite of sober Truth that sees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A world of fixed remembrances<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which to this mystery belong, <span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, undeceived, my skill can trace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The characters of every face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There lack not strange delusion here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conjecture vague, and idle fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And superstitious fancies strong, <span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which do the gentle Creature wrong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">That bearded, staff-supported Sire—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who in his boyhood often fed<a name="FNanchor_20_211" id="FNanchor_20_211"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_211" class="fnanchor">[20]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full cheerily on convent-bread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heard old tales by the convent-fire, <span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to his grave will go with scars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Relics of long and distant wars—<a name="FNanchor_21_212" id="FNanchor_21_212"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_212" class="fnanchor">[21]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Old Man, studious to expound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spectacle, is mounting<a name="FNanchor_22_213" id="FNanchor_22_213"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_213" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To days of dim antiquity; <span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lady Aäliza mourned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her Son,<a name="FNanchor_P_413" id="FNanchor_P_413"></a><a href="#Footnote_P_413" class="fnanchor">[P]</a> and felt in her despair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pang of unavailing prayer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her Son in Wharf's abysses drowned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noble Boy of Egremound.<a name="FNanchor_Q_414" id="FNanchor_Q_414"></a><a href="#Footnote_Q_414" class="fnanchor">[Q]</a> <span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From which affliction—when the grace</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of God had in her heart found place—<a name="FNanchor_23_214" id="FNanchor_23_214"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_214" class="fnanchor">[23]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pious structure, fair to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose up, this stately Priory!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lady's work;—but now laid low; <span class="linenum">235</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the grief of her soul that doth come and go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the beautiful form of this innocent Doe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, though seemingly doomed in its breast to sustain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A softened remembrance of sorrow and pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is spotless, and holy, and gentle, and bright; <span class="linenum">240</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glides o'er the earth like an angel of light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Pass, pass who will, yon chantry door;<a name="FNanchor_R_415" id="FNanchor_R_415"></a><a href="#Footnote_R_415" class="fnanchor">[R]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, through the chink in the fractured floor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look down, and see a griesly sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A vault where the bodies are buried upright!<a name="FNanchor_S_416" id="FNanchor_S_416"></a><a href="#Footnote_S_416" class="fnanchor">[S]</a> <span class="linenum">245</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, face by face, and hand by hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Claphams and Mauleverers stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in his place, among son and sire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is John de Clapham, that fierce Esquire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A valiant man, and a name of dread <span class="linenum">250</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the ruthless wars of the White and Red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who dragged Earl Pembroke from Banbury church<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smote off his head on the stones of the porch!</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Look down among them, if you dare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft does the White Doe loiter there, <span class="linenum">255</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prying into the darksome rent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor can it be with good intent:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So thinks that Dame of haughty air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who hath a Page her book to hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wears a frontlet edged with gold. <span class="linenum">260</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harsh thoughts with her high mood agree—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who counts among her ancestry<a name="FNanchor_24_215" id="FNanchor_24_215"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_215" class="fnanchor">[24]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earl Pembroke, slain so impiously!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">That slender Youth, a scholar pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Oxford come to his native vale, <span class="linenum">265</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He also hath his own conceit:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is, thinks he, the gracious Fairy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loved the Shepherd-lord to meet<a name="FNanchor_T_417" id="FNanchor_T_417"></a><a href="#Footnote_T_417" class="fnanchor">[T]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">In his wanderings solitary:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild notes she in his hearing sang, <span class="linenum">270</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A song of Nature's hidden powers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That whistled like the wind, and rang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the rocks and holly bowers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas said that She all shapes could wear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oftentimes before him stood, <span class="linenum">275</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid the trees of some thick wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In semblance of a lady fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And taught him signs, and showed him sights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Craven's dens, on Cumbrian<a name="FNanchor_25_216" id="FNanchor_25_216"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_216" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> heights;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When under cloud of fear he lay, <span class="linenum">280</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shepherd clad in homely grey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor left him at his later day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hence, when he, with spear and shield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rode full of years to Flodden-field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His eye could see the hidden spring, <span class="linenum">285</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how the current was to flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fatal end of Scotland's King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all that hopeless overthrow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not in wars did he delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This</i> Clifford wished for worthier might; <span class="linenum">290</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span><span class="i0">Nor in broad pomp, or courtly state;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him his own thoughts did elevate,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most happy in the shy recess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Barden's lowly<a name="FNanchor_26_217" id="FNanchor_26_217"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_217" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> quietness.<a name="FNanchor_U_418" id="FNanchor_U_418"></a><a href="#Footnote_U_418" class="fnanchor">[U]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And choice of studious friends had he <span class="linenum">295</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Bolton's dear fraternity;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, standing on this old church tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In many a calm propitious hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perused, with him, the starry sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, in their cells, with him did pry <span class="linenum">300</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For other lore,—by keen desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Urged to close toil with chemic fire;<a name="FNanchor_27_218" id="FNanchor_27_218"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_218" class="fnanchor">[27]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In quest belike of transmutations<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich as the mine's most bright creations.<a name="FNanchor_28_219" id="FNanchor_28_219"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_219" class="fnanchor">[28]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they and their good works are fled, <span class="linenum">305</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all is now disquieted—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And peace is none, for living or dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ah, pensive Scholar, think not so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But look again at the radiant Doe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What quiet watch she seems to keep, <span class="linenum">310</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone, beside that grassy heap!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why mention other thoughts unmeet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For vision so composed and sweet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While stand the people in a ring,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Gazing, doubting, questioning; <span class="linenum">315</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, many overcome in spite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of recollections clear and bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which yet do unto some impart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An undisturbed repose of heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the assembly own a law <span class="linenum">320</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of orderly respect and awe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But see—they vanish one by one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And last, the Doe herself is gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Harp! we have been full long beguiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By vague thoughts, lured by fancies wild;<a name="FNanchor_29_220" id="FNanchor_29_220"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_220" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> <span class="linenum">325</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which, with no reluctant strings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast attuned thy murmurings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now before this Pile we stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In solitude, and utter peace:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, Harp! thy murmurs may not cease— <span class="linenum">330</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Spirit, with his angelic wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In soft and breeze-like visitings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has touched thee—and a Spirit's hand:<a name="FNanchor_30_221" id="FNanchor_30_221"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_221" class="fnanchor">[30]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice is with us—a command<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To chant, in strains of heavenly glory, <span class="linenum">335</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tale of tears, a mortal story!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> +<p class="bindent2">CANTO SECOND</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Harp in lowliness obeyed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And first we sang of the green-wood shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a solitary Maid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beginning, where the song must end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her, and with her sylvan Friend; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Friend, who stood before her sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her only unextinguished light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her last companion in a dearth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of love, upon a hopeless earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">For She it was—this Maid, who wrought<a name="FNanchor_31_222" id="FNanchor_31_222"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_222" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meekly, with foreboding thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vermeil colours and in gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An unblest work; which, standing by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her Father did with joy behold,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exulting in its<a name="FNanchor_32_223" id="FNanchor_32_223"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_223" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> imagery; <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Banner, fashioned to fulfil<a name="FNanchor_33_224" id="FNanchor_33_224"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_224" class="fnanchor">[33]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too perfectly his headstrong will:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For on this Banner had her hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Embroidered (such her Sire's command)<a name="FNanchor_34_225" id="FNanchor_34_225"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_225" class="fnanchor">[34]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sacred Cross; and figured there <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The five dear wounds our Lord did bear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full soon to be uplifted high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And float in rueful company!</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span><span class="i1">It was the time when England's Queen <span class="linenum">24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twelve years had reigned, a Sovereign dread;<a name="FNanchor_V_419" id="FNanchor_V_419"></a><a href="#Footnote_V_419" class="fnanchor">[V]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor yet the restless crown had been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disturbed upon her virgin head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now the inly-working North<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was ripe to send its thousands forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A potent vassalage, to fight <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Percy's and in Neville's right,<a name="FNanchor_W_420" id="FNanchor_W_420"></a><a href="#Footnote_W_420" class="fnanchor">[W]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two Earls fast leagued in discontent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who gave their wishes open vent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And boldly urged a general plea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rites of ancient piety <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be triumphantly restored,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the stern justice of the sword!<a name="FNanchor_35_226" id="FNanchor_35_226"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_226" class="fnanchor">[35]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that same Banner on whose breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blameless Lady had exprest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Memorials chosen to give life <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sunshine to a dangerous strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That<a name="FNanchor_36_227" id="FNanchor_36_227"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_227" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> Banner, waiting for the Call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood quietly in Rylstone-hall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">It came; and Francis Norton said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O Father! rise not in this fray— <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hairs are white upon your head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Father, hear me when I say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is for you too late a day!</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Bethink you of your own good name:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A just and gracious queen have we, <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pure religion, and the claim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of peace on our humanity.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis meet that I endure your scorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am your son, your eldest born;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not for lordship or for land, <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Father, do I clasp your knees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Banner touch not, stay your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This multitude of men disband,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And live at home in blameless<a name="FNanchor_37_228" id="FNanchor_37_228"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_228" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> ease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For these my brethren's sake, for me; <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, most of all, for Emily!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Tumultuous noises filled the hall;<a name="FNanchor_38_229" id="FNanchor_38_229"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_229" class="fnanchor">[38]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scarcely could the Father hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That name—pronounced with a dying fall—<a name="FNanchor_39_230" id="FNanchor_39_230"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_230" class="fnanchor">[39]</a><a name="FNanchor_X_421" id="FNanchor_X_421"></a><a href="#Footnote_X_421" class="fnanchor">[X]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of his only Daughter dear, <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on<a name="FNanchor_40_231" id="FNanchor_40_231"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_231" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> the banner which stood near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He glanced a look of holy pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his moist<a name="FNanchor_41_232" id="FNanchor_41_232"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_232" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> eyes were glorified;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then did he seize the staff, and say:<a name="FNanchor_42_233" id="FNanchor_42_233"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_233" class="fnanchor">[42]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou, Richard, bear'st thy father's name, <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span><span class="i0">Keep thou this ensign till the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I of thee require the same:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy place be on my better hand;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seven as true as thou, I see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will cleave to this good cause and me." <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spake, and eight brave sons straightway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All followed him, a gallant band!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus, with his sons, when forth he came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sight was hailed with loud acclaim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And din of arms and minstrelsy,<a name="FNanchor_43_234" id="FNanchor_43_234"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_234" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From all his warlike tenantry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All horsed and harnessed with him to ride,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice<a name="FNanchor_44_235" id="FNanchor_44_235"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_235" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> to which the hills replied!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But Francis, in the vacant hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood silent under dreary weight,— <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A phantasm, in which roof and wall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shook, tottered, swam before his sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A phantasm like a dream of night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus overwhelmed, and desolate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He found his way to a postern-gate; <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, when he waked, his languid eye<a name="FNanchor_45_236" id="FNanchor_45_236"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_236" class="fnanchor">[45]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was on the calm and silent sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With air about him breathing sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And earth's green grass beneath his feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor did he fail ere long to hear <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sound of military cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint—but it reached that sheltered spot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He heard, and it disturbed him not.</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span><span class="i1">There stood he, leaning on a lance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which he had grasped unknowingly, <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had blindly grasped in that strong trance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dimness of heart-agony;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There stood he, cleansed from the despair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sorrow of his fruitless prayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The past he calmly hath reviewed: <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where will be the fortitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this brave man, when he shall see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Form beneath the spreading tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And know that it is Emily?<a name="FNanchor_46_237" id="FNanchor_46_237"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_237" class="fnanchor">[46]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He saw her where in open view <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sate beneath the spreading yew—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her head upon her lap, concealing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In solitude her bitter feeling:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="FNanchor_47_238" id="FNanchor_47_238"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_238" class="fnanchor">[47]</a>"Might ever son <i>command</i> a sire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The act were justified to-day." <span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This to himself—and to the Maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom now he had approached, he said—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gone are they,—they have their desire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I with thee one hour will stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give thee comfort if I may." <span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">She heard, but looked not up, nor spake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sorrow moved him to partake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her silence; then his thoughts turned round,<a name="FNanchor_48_239" id="FNanchor_48_239"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_239" class="fnanchor">[48]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fervent words a passage found.</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span><span class="i1">"Gone are they, bravely, though misled; <span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a dear Father at their head!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sons obey a natural lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Father had given solemn word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To noble Percy; and a force<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still stronger, bends him to his course. <span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This said, our tears to-day may fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As at an innocent funeral.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In deep and awful channel runs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This sympathy of Sire and Sons;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untried our Brothers have been loved<a name="FNanchor_49_240" id="FNanchor_49_240"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_240" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> <span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heart by simple nature moved;<a name="FNanchor_50_241" id="FNanchor_50_241"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_241" class="fnanchor">[50]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now their faithfulness is proved:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For faithful we must call them, bearing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That soul of conscientious daring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—There were they all in circle—there <span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood Richard, Ambrose, Christopher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">John with a sword that will not fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Marmaduke in fearless mail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And those bright Twins were side by side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, by fresh hopes beautified, <span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood He,<a name="FNanchor_51_242" id="FNanchor_51_242"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_242" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> whose arm yet lacks the power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of man, our youngest, fairest flower!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, by the right<a name="FNanchor_52_243" id="FNanchor_52_243"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_243" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> of eldest born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in a second father's place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Presumed to grapple with<a name="FNanchor_53_244" id="FNanchor_53_244"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_244" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> their scorn, <span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And meet their pity face to face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, trusting in God's holy aid,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">I to my Father knelt and prayed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one, the pensive Marmaduke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methought, was yielding inwardly, <span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And would have laid his purpose by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for a glance of his Father's eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which I myself could scarcely brook.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Then be we, each and all, forgiven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, chiefly thou,<a name="FNanchor_54_245" id="FNanchor_54_245"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_245" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> my Sister dear, <span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose pangs are registered in heaven—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stifled sigh, the hidden tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smiles, that dared to take their place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meek filial smiles, upon thy face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As that unhallowed Banner grew <span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath a loving old Man's view.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy part is done—thy painful part;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be thou then satisfied in heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A further, though far easier, task<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than thine hath been, my duties ask; <span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With theirs my efforts cannot blend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot for such cause contend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their aims I utterly forswear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I in body will be there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unarmed and naked will I go, <span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be at their side, come weal or woe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On kind occasions I may wait,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, hear, obstruct, or mitigate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bare breast I take and an empty hand."—<a name="FNanchor_Y_422" id="FNanchor_Y_422"></a><a href="#Footnote_Y_422" class="fnanchor">[Y]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therewith he threw away the lance, <span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which he had grasped in that strong trance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spurned it, like something that would stand</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Between him and the pure intent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of love on which his soul was bent.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"For thee, for thee, is left the sense <span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of trial past without offence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To God or man; such innocence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such consolation, and the excess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of an unmerited distress;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that thy very strength must lie. <span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—O Sister, I could prophesy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The time is come that rings the knell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all we loved, and loved so well:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope nothing, if I thus may speak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee, a woman, and thence weak: <span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope nothing, I repeat; for we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are doomed to perish utterly:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis meet that thou with me divide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thought while I am by thy side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Acknowledging a grace in this, <span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A comfort in the dark abyss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But look not for me when I am gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And be no farther wrought upon:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell all wishes, all debate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All prayers for this cause, or for that! <span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weep, if that aid thee; but depend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon no help of outward friend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Espouse thy doom at once, and cleave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fortitude without reprieve.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we must fall, both we and ours— <span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Mansion and these pleasant bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walks, pools, and arbours, homestead, hall—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our fate is theirs, will reach them all;<a name="FNanchor_Z_423" id="FNanchor_Z_423"></a><a href="#Footnote_Z_423" class="fnanchor">[Z]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young horse must forsake his manger,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And learn to glory in a Stranger; <span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span><span class="i0">The hawk forget his perch; the hound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be parted from his ancient ground:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blast will sweep us all away—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One desolation, one decay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And even this Creature!" which words saying, <span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pointed to a lovely Doe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few steps distant, feeding, straying;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair creature, and more white than snow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Even she will to her peaceful woods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Return, and to her murmuring floods, <span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And be in heart and soul the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was before she hither came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere she had learned to love us all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herself beloved in Rylstone-hall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—But thou, my Sister, doomed to be <span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last leaf on a blasted tree;<a name="FNanchor_55_246" id="FNanchor_55_246"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_246" class="fnanchor">[55]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If not in vain we breathed<a name="FNanchor_56_247" id="FNanchor_56_247"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_247" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> the breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together of a purer faith;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If hand in hand we have been led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou, (O happy thought this day!) <span class="linenum">235</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not seldom foremost in the way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If on one thought our minds have fed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we have in one meaning read;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, when at home our private weal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath suffered from the shock of zeal, <span class="linenum">240</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together we have learned to prize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forbearance and self-sacrifice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If we like combatants have fared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for this issue been prepared;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou art beautiful, and youth <span class="linenum">245</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thought endue thee with all truth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be strong;—be worthy of the grace</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of God, and fill thy destined place:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Soul, by force of sorrows high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uplifted to the purest sky <span class="linenum">250</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of undisturbed humanity!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He ended,—or she heard no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He led her from the yew-tree shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the mansion's silent door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He kissed the consecrated Maid; <span class="linenum">255</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down the valley then pursued,<a name="FNanchor_57_248" id="FNanchor_57_248"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_248" class="fnanchor">[57]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone, the armèd Multitude.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindent2">CANTO THIRD</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now joy for you who from the towers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Brancepeth look in doubt and fear,<a name="FNanchor_AA_424" id="FNanchor_AA_424"></a><a href="#Footnote_AA_424" class="fnanchor">[AA]</a><a name="FNanchor_58_249" id="FNanchor_58_249"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_249" class="fnanchor">[58]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Telling melancholy hours!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proclaim it, let your Masters hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Norton with his band is near! <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The watchmen from their station high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pronounced the word,—and the Earls descry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well-pleased, the armèd Company<a name="FNanchor_59_250" id="FNanchor_59_250"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_250" class="fnanchor">[59]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marching down the banks of Were.</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span><span class="i1">Said fearless Norton to the pair <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone forth to greet<a name="FNanchor_60_251" id="FNanchor_60_251"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_251" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> him on the plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"This meeting, noble Lords! looks fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bring with me a goodly train;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their hearts are with you: hill and dale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have helped us: Ure we crossed, and Swale, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And horse and harness followed—see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The best part of their Yeomanry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Stand forth, my Sons!—these eight are mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom to this service I commend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which way soe'er our fate incline, <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">These will be faithful to the end;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are my all"—voice failed him here—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My all save one, a Daughter dear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom I have left, Love's mildest birth,<a name="FNanchor_61_252" id="FNanchor_61_252"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_252" class="fnanchor">[61]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The meekest Child on this blessed earth. <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had—but these are by my side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These Eight, and this is a day of pride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The time is ripe. With festive din<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! how the people are flocking in,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like hungry fowl to the feeder's hand <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When snow lies heavy upon the land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He spake bare truth; for far and near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From every side came noisy swarms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Peasants in their homely gear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, mixed with these, to Brancepeth came <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grave Gentry of estate and name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Captains known for worth in arms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prayed the Earls in self-defence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rise, and prove their innocence.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Rise, noble Earls, put forth your might <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For holy Church, and the People's right!"</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span><span class="i1">The Norton fixed, at this demand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His eye upon Northumberland,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said; "The Minds of Men will own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No loyal rest while England's Crown <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remains without an Heir, the bait<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of strife and factions desperate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, paying deadly hate in kind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all things else, in this can find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mutual hope, a common mind; <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And plot, and pant to overwhelm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All ancient honour in the realm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Brave Earls! to whose heroic veins<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our noblest blood is given in trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To you a suffering State complains, <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye must raise her from the dust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wishes of still bolder scope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On you we look, with dearest hope;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even for our Altars—for the prize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Heaven, of life that never dies; <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the old and holy Church we mourn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And must in joy to her return.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold!"—and from his Son whose stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was on his right, from that guardian hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took the Banner, and unfurled <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The precious folds—"behold," said he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The ransom of a sinful world;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let this your preservation be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wounds of hands and feet and side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sacred Cross on which Jesus died! <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—This bring I from an ancient hearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These Records wrought in pledge of love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By hands of no ignoble birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Maid o'er whom the blessed Dove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vouchsafed in gentleness to brood <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While she the holy work pursued."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Uplift the Standard!" was the cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From all the listeners that stood round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Plant it,—by this we live or die."</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">The Norton ceased not for that sound, <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But said; "The prayer which ye have heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much injured Earls! by these preferred,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is offered to the Saints, the sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of tens of thousands, secretly."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Uplift it!" cried once more the Band, <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then a thoughtful pause ensued:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Uplift it!" said Northumberland—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereat, from all the multitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who saw the Banner reared on high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all its dread emblazonry, <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="FNanchor_62_253" id="FNanchor_62_253"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_253" class="fnanchor">[62]</a>A voice of uttermost joy brake out:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The transport was rolled down the river of Were,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Durham, the time-honoured Durham, did hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the towers of Saint Cuthbert were stirred by the shout!<a name="FNanchor_BB_425" id="FNanchor_BB_425"></a><a href="#Footnote_BB_425" class="fnanchor">[BB]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Now was the North in arms:—they shine <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In warlike trim from Tweed to Tyne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Percy's voice: and Neville sees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Followers gathering in from Tees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Were, and all the little rills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Concealed among the forkèd hills— <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seven hundred Knights, Retainers all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Neville, at their Master's call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had sate together in Raby Hall!<a name="FNanchor_CC_426" id="FNanchor_CC_426"></a><a href="#Footnote_CC_426" class="fnanchor">[CC]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such strength that Earldom held of yore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor wanted at this time rich store <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of well-appointed chivalry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Not both the sleepy lance to wield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And greet the old paternal shield,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">They heard the summons;—and, furthermore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Horsemen and Foot of each degree,<a name="FNanchor_63_254" id="FNanchor_63_254"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_254" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unbound by pledge of fealty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appeared, with free and open hate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of novelties in Church and State;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">night, burgher, yeoman, and esquire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Romish priest,<a name="FNanchor_64_255" id="FNanchor_64_255"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_255" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> in priest's attire. <span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus, in arms, a zealous Band<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proceeding under joint command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Durham first their course they bear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in Saint Cuthbert's ancient seat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sang mass,—and tore the book of prayer,— <span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trod the bible beneath their feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thence marching southward smooth and free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They mustered their host at Wetherby,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full sixteen thousand fair to see;"<a name="FNanchor_DD_427" id="FNanchor_DD_427"></a><a href="#Footnote_DD_427" class="fnanchor">[DD]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Choicest Warriors of the North! <span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But none for beauty and for worth<a name="FNanchor_65_256" id="FNanchor_65_256"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_256" class="fnanchor">[65]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like those eight Sons—who, in a ring,<a name="FNanchor_66_257" id="FNanchor_66_257"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_257" class="fnanchor">[66]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Ripe men, or blooming in life's spring)<a name="FNanchor_67_258" id="FNanchor_67_258"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_258" class="fnanchor">[67]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each with a lance, erect and tall,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">A falchion, and a buckler small, <span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood by their Sire, on Clifford-moor,<a name="FNanchor_EE_428" id="FNanchor_EE_428"></a><a href="#Footnote_EE_428" class="fnanchor">[EE]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="FNanchor_68_259" id="FNanchor_68_259"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_259" class="fnanchor">[68]</a>To guard the Standard which he bore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On foot they girt their Father round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so will keep the appointed ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where'er their march: no steed will he<a name="FNanchor_69_260" id="FNanchor_69_260"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_260" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> <span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Henceforth bestride;—triumphantly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stands upon the grassy sod,<a name="FNanchor_70_261" id="FNanchor_70_261"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_261" class="fnanchor">[70]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trusting himself to the earth, and God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rare sight to embolden and inspire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud was the field of Sons and Sire; <span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him the most; and, sooth to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No shape of man in all the array<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So graced the sunshine of that day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The monumental pomp of age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was with this goodly Personage; <span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stature undepressed in size,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unbent, which rather seemed to rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In open victory o'er the weight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of seventy years, to loftier<a name="FNanchor_71_262" id="FNanchor_71_262"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_262" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> height;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Magnific limbs of withered state; <span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A face to fear and venerate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyes dark and strong; and on his head</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Bright<a name="FNanchor_72_263" id="FNanchor_72_263"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_263" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> locks of silver hair, thick spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which a brown morion half-concealed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light as a hunter's of the field; <span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus, with girdle round his waist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereon the Banner-staff might rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At need, he stood, advancing high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glittering, floating Pageantry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Who sees him?—thousands see,<a name="FNanchor_73_264" id="FNanchor_73_264"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_264" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> and One <span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With unparticipated gaze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, 'mong those<a name="FNanchor_74_265" id="FNanchor_74_265"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_265" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> thousands, friend hath none,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And treads in solitary ways.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He, following wheresoe'er he might,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath watched the Banner from afar, <span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As shepherds watch a lonely star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or mariners the distant light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That guides them through<a name="FNanchor_75_266" id="FNanchor_75_266"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_266" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> a stormy night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, upon a chosen plot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rising ground, yon heathy spot! <span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He takes alone<a name="FNanchor_76_267" id="FNanchor_76_267"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_267" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> his far-off stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With breast unmailed, unweaponed hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bold is his aspect; but his eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is pregnant with anxiety,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, like a tutelary Power, <span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He there stands fixed from hour to hour:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet sometimes in more humble guise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the turf-clad height he lies</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Stretched, herdsman-like, as if to bask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sunshine were his only task,<a name="FNanchor_77_268" id="FNanchor_77_268"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_268" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> <span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or by his mantle's help to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shelter from the nipping wind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus, with short oblivion blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His weary spirits gather rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again he lifts his eyes; and lo! <span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pageant glancing to and fro;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hope is wakened by the sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He<a name="FNanchor_78_269" id="FNanchor_78_269"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_269" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> thence may learn, ere fall of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which way the tide is doomed to flow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">To London were the Chieftains bent; <span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what avails the bold intent?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Royal army is gone forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To quell the <span class="smcap">Rising of the North</span>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They march with Dudley at their head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in seven days' space, will to York be led!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can such a mighty Host be raised <span class="linenum">196</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus suddenly, and brought so near?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Earls upon each other gazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Neville's cheek grew pale with fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, with a high and valiant name, <span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bore a heart of timid frame;<a name="FNanchor_79_270" id="FNanchor_79_270"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_270" class="fnanchor">[79]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bold if both had been, yet they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Against so many may not stay."<a name="FNanchor_FF_429" id="FNanchor_FF_429"></a><a href="#Footnote_FF_429" class="fnanchor">[FF]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Back therefore will they hie to seize<a name="FNanchor_80_271" id="FNanchor_80_271"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_271" class="fnanchor">[80]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A strong Hold on the banks of Tees; <span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There wait a favourable hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until Lord Dacre with his power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Naworth come;<a name="FNanchor_81_272" id="FNanchor_81_272"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_272" class="fnanchor">[81]</a><a name="FNanchor_GG_430" id="FNanchor_GG_430"></a><a href="#Footnote_GG_430" class="fnanchor">[GG]</a> and Howard's aid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be with them openly displayed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">While through the Host, from man to man, <span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rumour of this purpose ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Standard trusting<a name="FNanchor_82_273" id="FNanchor_82_273"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_273" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> to the care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him who heretofore did bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That charge, impatient Norton sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Chieftains to unfold his thought, <span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus abruptly spake;—"We yield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(And can it be?) an unfought field!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How oft has strength, the strength of heaven,<a name="FNanchor_83_274" id="FNanchor_83_274"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_274" class="fnanchor">[83]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To few triumphantly been given!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still do our very children boast <span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of mitred Thurston—what a Host<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He conquered!<a name="FNanchor_HH_431" id="FNanchor_HH_431"></a><a href="#Footnote_HH_431" class="fnanchor">[HH]</a>—Saw we not the Plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(And flying shall behold again)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where faith was proved?—while to battle moved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Standard, on the Sacred Wain <span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bore it, compassed round by a bold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fraternity of Barons old;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And with those grey-haired champions stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the saintly ensigns three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The infant Heir of Mowbray's blood— <span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All confident of victory!—<a name="FNanchor_84_275" id="FNanchor_84_275"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_275" class="fnanchor">[84]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall Percy blush, then, for his name?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must Westmoreland be asked with shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose were the numbers, where the loss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that other day of Neville's Cross?<a name="FNanchor_II_432" id="FNanchor_II_432"></a><a href="#Footnote_II_432" class="fnanchor">[II]</a> <span class="linenum">235</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span><span class="i0">When the Prior of Durham with holy hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raised, as the Vision gave command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saint Cuthbert's Relic—far and near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kenned on the point of a lofty spear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the Monks prayed in Maiden's Bower <span class="linenum">240</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To God descending in his power.<a name="FNanchor_85_276" id="FNanchor_85_276"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_276" class="fnanchor">[85]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less would not at our need be due<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To us, who war against the Untrue;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The delegates of Heaven we rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convoked the impious to chastise: <span class="linenum">245</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We, we, the sanctities of old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would re-establish and uphold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be warned"—His zeal the Chiefs confounded,<a name="FNanchor_86_277" id="FNanchor_86_277"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_277" class="fnanchor">[86]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But word was given, and the trumpet sounded:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back through the melancholy Host <span class="linenum">250</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went Norton, and resumed his post.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! thought he, and have I borne</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">This Banner raised with joyful pride,<a name="FNanchor_87_278" id="FNanchor_87_278"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_278" class="fnanchor">[87]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This hope of all posterity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By those dread symbols sanctified;<a name="FNanchor_88_279" id="FNanchor_88_279"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_279" class="fnanchor">[88]</a> <span class="linenum">255</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus to become at once the scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of babbling winds as they go by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spot of shame to the sun's bright eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the light<a name="FNanchor_89_280" id="FNanchor_89_280"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_280" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> clouds a mockery!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—"Even these poor eight of mine would stem"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half to himself, and half to them <span class="linenum">261</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spake—"would stem, or quell, a force<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten times their number, man and horse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This by their own unaided might,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without their father in their sight, <span class="linenum">265</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without the Cause for which they fight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Cause, which on a needful day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would breed us thousands brave as they."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—So speaking, he his reverend head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raised towards that Imagery once more:<a name="FNanchor_90_281" id="FNanchor_90_281"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_281" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> <span class="linenum">270</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the familiar prospect shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Despondency unfelt before:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shock of intimations vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dismay,<a name="FNanchor_91_282" id="FNanchor_91_282"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_282" class="fnanchor">[91]</a> and superstitious pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell on him, with the sudden thought <span class="linenum">275</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her by whom the work was wrought:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh wherefore was her countenance bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With love divine and gentle light?</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">She would not, could not, disobey,<a name="FNanchor_92_283" id="FNanchor_92_283"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_283" class="fnanchor">[92]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But her Faith leaned another way. <span class="linenum">280</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ill tears she wept; I saw them fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I overheard her as she spake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad words to that mute Animal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The White Doe, in the hawthorn brake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She steeped, but not for Jesu's sake, <span class="linenum">285</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Cross in tears: by her, and One<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unworthier far we are undone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her recreant Brother—he prevailed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over that tender Spirit—assailed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too oft alas! by her whose head<a name="FNanchor_93_284" id="FNanchor_93_284"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_284" class="fnanchor">[93]</a> <span class="linenum">290</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the cold grave hath long been laid:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She first, in reason's dawn beguiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her docile, unsuspecting Child:<a name="FNanchor_94_285" id="FNanchor_94_285"></a><a href="#Footnote_94_285" class="fnanchor">[94]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far back—far back my mind must go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To reach the well-spring of this woe! <span class="linenum">295</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">While thus he brooded, music sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of border tunes was played to cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The footsteps of a quick retreat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Norton lingered in the rear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stung with sharp thoughts; and ere the last <span class="linenum">300</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From his distracted brain was cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before his Father, Francis stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spake in firm and earnest mood.<a name="FNanchor_95_286" id="FNanchor_95_286"></a><a href="#Footnote_95_286" class="fnanchor">[95]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span><span class="i1">"Though here I bend a suppliant knee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In reverence, and unarmed, I bear <span class="linenum">305</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In your indignant thoughts my share;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Am grieved this backward march to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So careless and disorderly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I scorn your Chiefs—men who would lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet want courage at their need: <span class="linenum">310</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then look at them with open eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deserve they further sacrifice?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If—when they shrink, nor dare oppose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In open field their gathering foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(And fast, from this decisive day, <span class="linenum">315</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon multitude must melt away;)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If now I ask a grace not claimed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While ground was left for hope; unblamed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be an endeavour that can do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No injury to them or you.<a name="FNanchor_96_287" id="FNanchor_96_287"></a><a href="#Footnote_96_287" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> <span class="linenum">320</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span><span class="i0">My Father! I would help to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A place of shelter, till the rage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of cruel men do like the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exhaust itself and sink to rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be Brother now to Brother joined! <span class="linenum">325</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Admit me in the equipage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your misfortunes, that at least,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever fate remain<a name="FNanchor_97_288" id="FNanchor_97_288"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_288" class="fnanchor">[97]</a> behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may bear witness in my breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To your nobility of mind!" <span class="linenum">330</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Thou Enemy, my bane and blight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! bold to fight the Coward's fight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against all good"—but why declare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length, the issue of a prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which love had prompted, yielding scope <span class="linenum">335</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too free to one bright moment's hope?<a name="FNanchor_98_289" id="FNanchor_98_289"></a><a href="#Footnote_98_289" class="fnanchor">[98]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suffice it that the Son, who strove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fruitless effort to allay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That passion, prudently gave way;<a name="FNanchor_99_290" id="FNanchor_99_290"></a><a href="#Footnote_99_290" class="fnanchor">[99]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor did he turn aside to prove <span class="linenum">340</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Brothers' wisdom or their love—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But calmly from the spot withdrew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His best endeavours<a name="FNanchor_100_291" id="FNanchor_100_291"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_291" class="fnanchor">[100]</a> to renew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should e'er a kindlier time ensue.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> +<p class="bindent2">CANTO FOURTH</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis night: in silence looking down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Moon, from cloudless ether, sees<a name="FNanchor_101_292" id="FNanchor_101_292"></a><a href="#Footnote_101_292" class="fnanchor">[101]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Camp, and a beleaguered Town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Castle like a stately crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the steep rocks of winding Tees;— <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And southward far, with moor between,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hill-top, and flood, and forest green,<a name="FNanchor_102_293" id="FNanchor_102_293"></a><a href="#Footnote_102_293" class="fnanchor">[102]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bright Moon sees that valley small<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Rylstone's old sequestered Hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A venerable image yields <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of quiet to the neighbouring fields;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from one pillared chimney breathes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smoke, and mounts in silver wreaths.<a name="FNanchor_103_294" id="FNanchor_103_294"></a><a href="#Footnote_103_294" class="fnanchor">[103]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—The courts are hushed;—for timely sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grey-hounds to their kennel creep; <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The peacock in the broad ash tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aloft is roosted for the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who in proud prosperity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of colours manifold and bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walked round, affronting the daylight; <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And higher still, above the bower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where he is perched, from yon lone Tower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hall-clock in the clear moonshine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With glittering finger points at nine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ah! who could think that sadness here <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span><span class="i0">Hath<a name="FNanchor_104_295" id="FNanchor_104_295"></a><a href="#Footnote_104_295" class="fnanchor">[104]</a> any sway? or pain, or fear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soft and lulling sound is heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of streams inaudible by day;<a name="FNanchor_JJ_433" id="FNanchor_JJ_433"></a><a href="#Footnote_JJ_433" class="fnanchor">[JJ]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The garden pool's dark surface, stirred<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the night insects in their play, <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breaks into dimples small and bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand, thousand rings of light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shape themselves and disappear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Almost as soon as seen:—and lo!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not distant far, the milk-white Doe— <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same who quietly was feeding<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the green herb, and nothing heeding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Francis, uttering to the Maid<a name="FNanchor_105_296" id="FNanchor_105_296"></a><a href="#Footnote_105_296" class="fnanchor">[105]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His last words in the yew-tree shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Involved whate'er by love was brought <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of his heart, or crossed his thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or chance presented to his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one sad sweep of destiny—<a name="FNanchor_106_297" id="FNanchor_106_297"></a><a href="#Footnote_106_297" class="fnanchor">[106]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">The same fair Creature, who hath found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her way into forbidden ground; <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where now—within this spacious plot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pleasure made, a goodly spot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lawns and beds of flowers, and shades<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of trellis-work in long arcades,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cirque and crescent framed by wall <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of close-clipt foliage green and tall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Converging walks, and fountains gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And terraces in trim array—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath yon cypress spiring high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With pine and cedar spreading wide <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their darksome boughs on either side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In open moonlight doth she lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy as others of her kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, far from human neighbourhood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Range unrestricted as the wind, <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through park, or chase, or savage wood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But see the consecrated Maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Emerging from a cedar shade<a name="FNanchor_107_298" id="FNanchor_107_298"></a><a href="#Footnote_107_298" class="fnanchor">[107]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To open moonshine, where the Doe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the cypress-spire is laid; <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a patch of April snow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a bed of herbage green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lingering in a woody glade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or behind a rocky screen—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lonely relic! which, if seen <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the shepherd, is passed by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With an inattentive eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor more regard doth She bestow</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Upon the uncomplaining Doe<a name="FNanchor_108_299" id="FNanchor_108_299"></a><a href="#Footnote_108_299" class="fnanchor">[108]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now couched at ease, though oft this day <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not unperplexed nor free from pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she had tried, and tried in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Approaching in her gentle way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To win some look of love, or gain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Encouragement to sport or play; <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attempts which still the heart-sick Maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rejected, or with slight repaid.<a name="FNanchor_109_300" id="FNanchor_109_300"></a><a href="#Footnote_109_300" class="fnanchor">[109]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Yet Emily is soothed;—the breeze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came fraught with kindly sympathies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As she approached yon rustic Shed<a name="FNanchor_110_301" id="FNanchor_110_301"></a><a href="#Footnote_110_301" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung with late-flowering woodbine, spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the walls and overhead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fragrance of the breathing flowers</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Revived<a name="FNanchor_111_302" id="FNanchor_111_302"></a><a href="#Footnote_111_302" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> a memory of those hours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When here, in this remote alcove, <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(While from the pendent woodbine came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like odours, sweet as if the same)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fondly-anxious Mother strove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To teach her salutary fears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mysteries above her years. <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, she is soothed: an Image faint,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet not faint—a presence bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Returns to her—that blessèd Saint<a name="FNanchor_112_303" id="FNanchor_112_303"></a><a href="#Footnote_112_303" class="fnanchor">[112]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who with mild looks and language mild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instructed here her darling Child, <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While yet a prattler on the knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To worship in simplicity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The invisible God, and take for guide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faith reformed and purified.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'Tis flown—the Vision, and the sense <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that beguiling influence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But oh! thou Angel from above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mute Spirit<a name="FNanchor_113_304" id="FNanchor_113_304"></a><a href="#Footnote_113_304" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> of maternal love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stood'st before my eyes, more clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than ghosts are fabled to appear <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sent upon embassies of fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thou thy presence hast to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vouchsafed, in radiant ministry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Descend on Francis; nor forbear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To greet him with a voice, and say;— <span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'If hope be a rejected stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do thou, my Christian Son, beware</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of that most lamentable snare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The self-reliance of despair!'"<a name="FNanchor_114_305" id="FNanchor_114_305"></a><a href="#Footnote_114_305" class="fnanchor">[114]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Then from within the embowered retreat <span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where she had found a grateful seat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perturbed she issues. She will go!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herself will follow to the war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clasp her Father's knees;—ah, no!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She meets the insuperable bar, <span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The injunction by her Brother laid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His parting charge—but ill obeyed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That interdicted all debate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All prayer for this cause or for that;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All efforts that would turn aside <span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The headstrong current of their fate:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Her duty is to stand and wait</i>;<a name="FNanchor_115_306" id="FNanchor_115_306"></a><a href="#Footnote_115_306" class="fnanchor">[115]</a><a name="FNanchor_KK_434" id="FNanchor_KK_434"></a><a href="#Footnote_KK_434" class="fnanchor">[KK]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In resignation to abide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shock, <span class="smcap">and finally secure<br /></span></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">O'er pain and grief a triumph pure</span>.<a href="#Footnote_115_306" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> <span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—She feels it, and her pangs are checked.<a name="FNanchor_116_307" id="FNanchor_116_307"></a><a href="#Footnote_116_307" class="fnanchor">[116]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, as silently she paced<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The turf, and thought by thought was chased,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came One who, with sedate respect,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Approached, and, greeting her, thus spake;<a name="FNanchor_117_308" id="FNanchor_117_308"></a><a href="#Footnote_117_308" class="fnanchor">[117]</a> <span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span><span class="i0">"An old man's privilege I take:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark is the time—a woeful day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear daughter of affliction, say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How can I serve you? point the way."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Rights have you, and may well be bold: <span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You with my Father have grown old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In friendship—strive—for his sake go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn from us all the coming woe:<a name="FNanchor_118_309" id="FNanchor_118_309"></a><a href="#Footnote_118_309" class="fnanchor">[118]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This would I beg; but on my mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A passive stillness is enjoined. <span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">On you, if room for mortal aid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be left, is no restriction laid;<a name="FNanchor_119_310" id="FNanchor_119_310"></a><a href="#Footnote_119_310" class="fnanchor">[119]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You not forbidden to recline<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hope upon the Will divine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Hope," said the old Man, "must abide <span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all of us, whate'er betide.<a name="FNanchor_120_311" id="FNanchor_120_311"></a><a href="#Footnote_120_311" class="fnanchor">[120]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Craven's Wilds is many a den,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shelter persecuted men:<a name="FNanchor_LL_435" id="FNanchor_LL_435"></a><a href="#Footnote_LL_435" class="fnanchor">[LL]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far under ground is many a cave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where they might lie as in the grave, <span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span><span class="i0">Until this storm hath ceased to rave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or let them cross the River Tweed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And be at once from peril freed!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Ah tempt me not!" she faintly sighed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I will not counsel nor exhort, <span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With my condition satisfied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you, at least, may make report<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of what befals;—be this your task—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This may be done;—'tis all I ask!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">She spake—and from the Lady's sight <span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sire, unconscious of his age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Departed promptly as a Page<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bound on some errand of delight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—The noble Francis—wise as brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought he, may want not skill<a name="FNanchor_121_312" id="FNanchor_121_312"></a><a href="#Footnote_121_312" class="fnanchor">[121]</a> to save. <span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hopes in tenderness concealed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unarmed he followed to the field;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him will I seek: the insurgent Powers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are now besieging Barnard's Towers,—<a name="FNanchor_MM_436" id="FNanchor_MM_436"></a><a href="#Footnote_MM_436" class="fnanchor">[MM]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Grant that the Moon which shines this night <span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">May guide them in a prudent flight!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But quick the turns of chance and change,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And knowledge has a narrow range;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence idle fears, and needless pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wishes blind, and efforts vain.— <span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Moon may shine, but cannot be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their guide in flight—already she<a name="FNanchor_122_313" id="FNanchor_122_313"></a><a href="#Footnote_122_313" class="fnanchor">[122]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath witnessed their captivity.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">She saw the desperate assault<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon that hostile castle made;— <span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But dark and dismal is the vault<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Norton and his sons are laid!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disastrous issue!—he had said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"This night yon faithless<a name="FNanchor_123_314" id="FNanchor_123_314"></a><a href="#Footnote_123_314" class="fnanchor">[123]</a> Towers must yield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or we for ever quit the field. <span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Neville is utterly dismayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For promise fails of Howard's aid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Dacre to our call replies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That <i>he</i><a name="FNanchor_124_315" id="FNanchor_124_315"></a><a href="#Footnote_124_315" class="fnanchor">[124]</a> is unprepared to rise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart is sick;—this weary pause <span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must needs be fatal to our cause.<a name="FNanchor_125_316" id="FNanchor_125_316"></a><a href="#Footnote_125_316" class="fnanchor">[125]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The breach is open—on the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This night,—the Banner shall be planted!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—'Twas done: his Sons were with him—all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They belt him round with hearts undaunted <span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And others follow;—Sire and Son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leap down into the court;—"'Tis won"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They shout aloud—but Heaven decreed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with their joyful shout should close<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The triumph of a desperate deed<a name="FNanchor_126_317" id="FNanchor_126_317"></a><a href="#Footnote_126_317" class="fnanchor">[126]</a> <span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which struck with terror friends and foes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The friend shrinks back—the foe recoils<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Norton and his filial band;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they, now caught within the toils,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against a thousand cannot stand;— <span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foe from numbers courage drew,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And overpowered that gallant few.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A rescue for the Standard!" cried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Father from within the walls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, see, the sacred Standard falls!— <span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Confusion through the Camp spread<a name="FNanchor_127_318" id="FNanchor_127_318"></a><a href="#Footnote_127_318" class="fnanchor">[127]</a> wide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some fled; and some their fears detained:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ere the Moon had sunk to rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her pale chambers of the west,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that rash levy nought remained. <span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindent2">CANTO FIFTH</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High on a point of rugged ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the wastes of Rylstone Fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the loftiest ridge or mound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where foresters or shepherds dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An edifice of warlike frame <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands single—Norton Tower its name—<a name="FNanchor_NN_437" id="FNanchor_NN_437"></a><a href="#Footnote_NN_437" class="fnanchor">[NN]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It fronts all quarters, and looks round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er path and road, and plain and dell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark moor, and gleam of pool and stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a prospect without bound. <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span><span class="i1">The summit of this bold ascent—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though bleak and bare, and seldom free<a name="FNanchor_128_319" id="FNanchor_128_319"></a><a href="#Footnote_128_319" class="fnanchor">[128]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Pendle-hill or Pennygent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From wind, or frost, or vapours wet—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had often heard the sound of glee <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When there the youthful Nortons met,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To practice games and archery:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How proud and happy they! the crowd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Lookers-on how pleased and proud!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the scorching noon-tide sun,<a name="FNanchor_129_320" id="FNanchor_129_320"></a><a href="#Footnote_129_320" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From showers, or when the prize was won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They to the Tower withdrew, and there<a name="FNanchor_130_321" id="FNanchor_130_321"></a><a href="#Footnote_130_321" class="fnanchor">[130]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would mirth run round, with generous fare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the stern old Lord of Rylstone-hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was happiest, proudest,<a name="FNanchor_131_322" id="FNanchor_131_322"></a><a href="#Footnote_131_322" class="fnanchor">[131]</a> of them all! <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But now, his Child, with anguish pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the height walks to and fro;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis well that she hath heard the tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Received the bitterness of woe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="FNanchor_132_323" id="FNanchor_132_323"></a><a href="#Footnote_132_323" class="fnanchor">[132]</a>For she <i>had</i><a name="FNanchor_133_324" id="FNanchor_133_324"></a><a href="#Footnote_133_324" class="fnanchor">[133]</a> hoped, had hoped and feared, <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span><span class="i0">Such rights did feeble nature claim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft her steps had hither steered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though not unconscious of self-blame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she her brother's charge revered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His farewell words; and by the same, <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea by her brother's very name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had, in her solitude, been cheered.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Beside the lonely watch-tower stood<a name="FNanchor_134_325" id="FNanchor_134_325"></a><a href="#Footnote_134_325" class="fnanchor">[134]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That grey-haired Man of gentle blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who with her Father had grown old <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In friendship; rival hunters they,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fellow warriors in their day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Rylstone he the tidings brought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then on this height the Maid had sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, gently as he could, had told <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The end of that dire Tragedy,<a name="FNanchor_135_326" id="FNanchor_135_326"></a><a href="#Footnote_135_326" class="fnanchor">[135]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which it had been his lot to see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">To him the Lady turned; "You said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Francis lives, <i>he</i> is not dead?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Your noble brother hath been spared; <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To take his life they have not dared;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On him and on his high endeavour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light of praise shall shine for ever!</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Nor did he (such Heaven's will) in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His solitary course maintain; <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not vainly struggled in the might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of duty, seeing with clear sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was their comfort to the last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their joy till every pang was past.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"I witnessed when to York they came— <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, Lady, if their feet were tied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They might deserve a good Man's blame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But marks of infamy and shame—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These were their triumph, these their pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor wanted 'mid the pressing crowd <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep feeling, that found utterance loud,<a name="FNanchor_136_327" id="FNanchor_136_327"></a><a href="#Footnote_136_327" class="fnanchor">[136]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Lo, Francis comes,' there were who cried,<a name="FNanchor_137_328" id="FNanchor_137_328"></a><a href="#Footnote_137_328" class="fnanchor">[137]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'A Prisoner once, but now set free!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis well, for he the worst defied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through force of<a name="FNanchor_138_329" id="FNanchor_138_329"></a><a href="#Footnote_138_329" class="fnanchor">[138]</a> natural piety; <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rose not in this quarrel, he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For concord's sake and England's good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suit to his Brothers often made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tears, and of his Father prayed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when he had in vain withstood <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their purpose—then did he divide,<a name="FNanchor_139_330" id="FNanchor_139_330"></a><a href="#Footnote_139_330" class="fnanchor">[139]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He parted from them; but at their side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now walks in unanimity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then peace to cruelty and scorn,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">While to the prison they are borne, <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace, peace to all indignity!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"And so in Prison were they laid—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh hear me, hear me, gentle Maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am come with power to bless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By scattering gleams,<a name="FNanchor_140_331" id="FNanchor_140_331"></a><a href="#Footnote_140_331" class="fnanchor">[140]</a> through your distress, <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a redeeming happiness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me did a reverent pity move<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And privilege of ancient love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in your service, making bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Entrance I gained to that strong-hold.<a name="FNanchor_141_332" id="FNanchor_141_332"></a><a href="#Footnote_141_332" class="fnanchor">[141]</a> <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Your Father gave me cordial greeting;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to his purposes, that burned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within him, instantly returned:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was commanding and entreating,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said—'We need not stop, my Son! <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoughts press, and time is hurrying on'—<a name="FNanchor_142_333" id="FNanchor_142_333"></a><a href="#Footnote_142_333" class="fnanchor">[142]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so to Francis he renewed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His words, more calmly thus pursued.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'Might this our enterprise have sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Change wide and deep the Land had seen, <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span><span class="i0">A renovation from the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spring-tide of immortal green:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The darksome altars would have blazed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like stars when clouds are rolled away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salvation to all eyes that gazed, <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more the Rood had been upraised<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To spread its arms, and stand for aye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, then—had I survived to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New life in Bolton Priory;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The voice restored, the eye of Truth <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Re-opened that inspired my youth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see<a name="FNanchor_143_334" id="FNanchor_143_334"></a><a href="#Footnote_143_334" class="fnanchor">[143]</a> her in her pomp arrayed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Banner (for such vow I made)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should on the consecrated breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that same Temple have found rest: <span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would myself have hung it high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fit<a name="FNanchor_144_335" id="FNanchor_144_335"></a><a href="#Footnote_144_335" class="fnanchor">[144]</a> offering of glad victory!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'A shadow of such thought remains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cheer this sad and pensive time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A solemn fancy yet sustains <span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">One feeble Being—bids me climb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even to the last—one effort more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To attest my Faith, if not restore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'Hear then,' said he, 'while I impart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Son, the last wish of my heart. <span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Banner strive thou to regain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, if the endeavour prove not<a name="FNanchor_145_336" id="FNanchor_145_336"></a><a href="#Footnote_145_336" class="fnanchor">[145]</a> vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear it—to whom if not to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I this lonely thought consign?</span>—<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span><span class="i0">Bear it to Bolton Priory, <span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lay it on Saint Mary's shrine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wither in the sun and breeze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid those decaying sanctities.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There let at least the gift be laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The testimony there displayed; <span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bold proof that with no selfish aim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for lost Faith and Christ's dear name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I helmeted a brow though white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And took a place in all men's sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea offered up this noble<a name="FNanchor_146_337" id="FNanchor_146_337"></a><a href="#Footnote_146_337" class="fnanchor">[146]</a> Brood, <span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This fair unrivalled Brotherhood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turned away from thee, my Son!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left—but be the rest unsaid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name untouched, the tear unshed;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My wish is known, and I have done: <span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now promise, grant this one request,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This dying prayer, and be thou blest!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Then Francis answered—'Trust thy Son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, with God's will, it shall be done!'—<a name="FNanchor_147_338" id="FNanchor_147_338"></a><a href="#Footnote_147_338" class="fnanchor">[147]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"The pledge obtained, the solemn word<a name="FNanchor_148_339" id="FNanchor_148_339"></a><a href="#Footnote_148_339" class="fnanchor">[148]</a> <span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus scarcely given, a noise was heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Officers appeared in state<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lead the prisoners to their fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rose, oh! wherefore should I fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell, or, Lady, you to hear? <span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rose—embraces none were given—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They stood like trees when earth and heaven</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Are calm; they knew each other's worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reverently the Band went forth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They met, when they had reached the door, <span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">One with profane and harsh intent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Placed there—that he might go before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with that rueful Banner borne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aloft in sign of taunting scorn,<a name="FNanchor_149_340" id="FNanchor_149_340"></a><a href="#Footnote_149_340" class="fnanchor">[149]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conduct them to their punishment: <span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So cruel Sussex, unrestrained<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By human feeling, had ordained.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unhappy Banner Francis saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with a look of calm command<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inspiring universal awe, <span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took it from the soldier's hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the people that stood round<a name="FNanchor_150_341" id="FNanchor_150_341"></a><a href="#Footnote_150_341" class="fnanchor">[150]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Confirmed the deed in peace profound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—High transport did the Father shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his Son—and they were led, <span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Led on, and yielded up their breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together died, a happy death!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Francis, soon as he had braved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That insult, and the Banner saved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Athwart the unresisting tide<a name="FNanchor_151_342" id="FNanchor_151_342"></a><a href="#Footnote_151_342" class="fnanchor">[151]</a> <span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the spectators occupied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In admiration or dismay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bore instantly<a name="FNanchor_152_343" id="FNanchor_152_343"></a><a href="#Footnote_152_343" class="fnanchor">[152]</a> his Charge away."</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span><span class="i1">These things, which thus had in the sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hearing passed of Him who stood <span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Emily, on the Watch-tower height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Rylstone's woeful neighbourhood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He told; and oftentimes with voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of power to comfort<a name="FNanchor_153_344" id="FNanchor_153_344"></a><a href="#Footnote_153_344" class="fnanchor">[153]</a> or rejoice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For deepest sorrows that aspire, <span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go high, no transport ever higher.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yes—God is rich in mercy," said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old Man to the silent Maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yet, Lady! shines, through this black night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One star of aspect heavenly bright;<a name="FNanchor_154_345" id="FNanchor_154_345"></a><a href="#Footnote_154_345" class="fnanchor">[154]</a> <span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Brother lives—he lives—is come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perhaps already to his home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then let us leave this dreary place."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She yielded, and with gentle pace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though without one uplifted look, <span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Rylstone-hall her way she took.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindent2">CANTO SIXTH</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why comes not Francis?—From the doleful City<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He fled,—and, in his flight, could hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The death-sounds of the Minster-bell:<a name="FNanchor_155_346" id="FNanchor_155_346"></a><a href="#Footnote_155_346" class="fnanchor">[155]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">That sullen stroke pronounced farewell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Marmaduke, cut off from pity! <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Ambrose that! and then a knell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For him, the sweet half-opened Flower!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all—all dying in one hour!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Why comes not Francis? Thoughts of love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should bear him to his Sister dear <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the fleet motion of a dove;<a name="FNanchor_156_347" id="FNanchor_156_347"></a><a href="#Footnote_156_347" class="fnanchor">[156]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, like a heavenly messenger<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of speediest wing, should he appear.<a name="FNanchor_157_348" id="FNanchor_157_348"></a><a href="#Footnote_157_348" class="fnanchor">[157]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why comes he not?—for westward fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the plain of York he past; <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reckless of what impels or leads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unchecked he hurries on;—nor heeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sorrow, through the Villages,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread by triumphant cruelties<a name="FNanchor_158_349" id="FNanchor_158_349"></a><a href="#Footnote_158_349" class="fnanchor">[158]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of vengeful military force, <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And punishment without remorse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He marked not, heard not, as he fled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All but the suffering heart was dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For him abandoned to blank awe,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">To vacancy, and horror strong:<a name="FNanchor_159_350" id="FNanchor_159_350"></a><a href="#Footnote_159_350" class="fnanchor">[159]</a> <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the first object which he saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With conscious sight, as he swept along—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was the Banner in his hand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt—and made a sudden stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He looked about like one betrayed: <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What hath he done? what promise made?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh weak, weak moment! to what end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can such a vain oblation tend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he the Bearer?—Can he go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carrying this instrument of woe, <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find, find any where, a right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To excuse him in his Country's sight?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No; will not all men deem the change<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A downward course, perverse and strange?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here is it;—but how? when? must she, <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unoffending Emily,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again this piteous object see?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Such conflict long did he maintain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor liberty nor rest could gain:<a name="FNanchor_160_351" id="FNanchor_160_351"></a><a href="#Footnote_160_351" class="fnanchor">[160]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His own life into danger brought <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By this sad burden—even that thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exciting self-suspicion strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swayed the brave man to his wrong.<a name="FNanchor_161_352" id="FNanchor_161_352"></a><a href="#Footnote_161_352" class="fnanchor">[161]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And how—unless it were the sense<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all-disposing Providence, <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its will unquestionably shown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How has the Banner clung so fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a palsied, and unconscious hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clung to the hand to which it passed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without impediment? And why <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that Heaven's purpose might be known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth now no hindrance meet his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No intervention, to withstand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fulfilment of a Father's prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathed to a Son forgiven, and blest <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all resentments were at rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life in death laid the heart bare?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, like a spectre sweeping by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rushed through his mind the prophecy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of utter desolation made <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Emily in the yew-tree shade:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sighed, submitting will and power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the stern embrace of that grasping hour.<a name="FNanchor_162_353" id="FNanchor_162_353"></a><a href="#Footnote_162_353" class="fnanchor">[162]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No choice is left, the deed is mine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead are they, dead!—and I will go, <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, for their sakes, come weal or woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will lay the Relic on the shrine."</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span><span class="i1">So forward with a steady will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He went, and traversed plain and hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And up the vale of Wharf his way <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pursued;—and, at the dawn of day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attained a summit whence his eyes<a name="FNanchor_163_354" id="FNanchor_163_354"></a><a href="#Footnote_163_354" class="fnanchor">[163]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could see the Tower of Bolton rise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There Francis for a moment's space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made halt—but hark! a noise behind <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of horsemen at an eager pace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He heard, and with misgiving mind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—'Tis Sir George Bowes who leads the Band:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They come, by cruel Sussex sent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, when the Nortons from the hand <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of death had drunk their punishment,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bethought him, angry and ashamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How Francis, with the Banner claimed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As his own charge, had disappeared,<a name="FNanchor_164_355" id="FNanchor_164_355"></a><a href="#Footnote_164_355" class="fnanchor">[164]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all the standers-by revered. <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His whole bold carriage (which had quelled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus far the Opposer, and repelled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All censure, enterprise so bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That even bad men had vainly striven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against that overcoming light) <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was then reviewed, and prompt word given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That to what place soever fled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He should be seized, alive or dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The troop of horse have gained the height<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Francis stood in open sight. <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hem him round—"Behold the proof,"</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">They cried, "the Ensign in his hand!<a name="FNanchor_165_356" id="FNanchor_165_356"></a><a href="#Footnote_165_356" class="fnanchor">[165]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He</i> did not arm, he walked aloof!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For why?—to save his Father's land;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worst Traitor of them all is he, <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Traitor dark and cowardly!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"I am no Traitor," Francis said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Though this unhappy freight I bear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And must not part with. But beware;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Err not, by hasty zeal misled,<a name="FNanchor_166_357" id="FNanchor_166_357"></a><a href="#Footnote_166_357" class="fnanchor">[166]</a> <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor do a suffering Spirit wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose self-reproaches are too strong!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At this he from the beaten road<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Retreated towards a brake of thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That<a name="FNanchor_167_358" id="FNanchor_167_358"></a><a href="#Footnote_167_358" class="fnanchor">[167]</a> like a place of vantage showed; <span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there stood bravely, though forlorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In self-defence with warlike brow<a name="FNanchor_168_359" id="FNanchor_168_359"></a><a href="#Footnote_168_359" class="fnanchor">[168]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stood,—nor weaponless was now;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He from a Soldier's hand had snatched<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spear,—and, so protected, watched <span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Assailants, turning round and round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But from behind with treacherous wound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Spearman brought him to the ground.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The guardian lance, as Francis fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dropped from him; but his other hand <span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Banner clenched; till, from out the Band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One, the most eager for the prize,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Rushed in; and—while, O grief to tell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A glimmering sense still left, with eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unclosed the noble Francis lay— <span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seized it, as hunters seize their prey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not before the warm life-blood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had tinged more deeply, as it flowed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wounds the broidered Banner showed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fatal work, O Maiden, innocent as good!<a name="FNanchor_169_360" id="FNanchor_169_360"></a><a href="#Footnote_169_360" class="fnanchor">[169]</a> <span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Proudly the Horsemen bore away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Standard; and where Francis lay<a name="FNanchor_170_361" id="FNanchor_170_361"></a><a href="#Footnote_170_361" class="fnanchor">[170]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was he left alone, unwept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for two days unnoticed slept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For at that time bewildering fear <span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span><span class="i0">Possessed the country, far and near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, on the third day, passing by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of the Norton Tenantry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Espied the uncovered Corse; the Man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrunk as he recognised the face, <span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the nearest homesteads ran<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And called the people to the place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—How desolate is Rylstone-hall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was the instant thought of all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if the lonely Lady there <span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should be; to her they cannot bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This weight of anguish and despair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, when upon sad thoughts had prest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoughts sadder still, they deemed it best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, if the Priest should yield assent <span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no one hinder their intent,<a name="FNanchor_171_362" id="FNanchor_171_362"></a><a href="#Footnote_171_362" class="fnanchor">[171]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, they, for Christian pity's sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In holy ground a grave would make;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And straightway<a name="FNanchor_172_363" id="FNanchor_172_363"></a><a href="#Footnote_172_363" class="fnanchor">[172]</a> buried he should be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the Church-yard of the Priory. <span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Apart, some little space, was made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grave where Francis must be laid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In no confusion or neglect<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This did they,—but in pure respect<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he was born of gentle blood; <span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that there was no neighbourhood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of kindred for him in that ground:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So to the Church-yard they are bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bearing the body on a bier;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And psalms they sing—a holy sound <span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hill and vale with sadness hear.<a name="FNanchor_173_364" id="FNanchor_173_364"></a><a href="#Footnote_173_364" class="fnanchor">[173]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But Emily hath raised her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is again disquieted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She must behold!—so many gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is the solitary One? <span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And forth from Rylstone-hall stepped she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seek her Brother forth she went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tremblingly her course she bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toward<a name="FNanchor_174_365" id="FNanchor_174_365"></a><a href="#Footnote_174_365" class="fnanchor">[174]</a> Bolton's ruined Priory.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She comes, and in the vale hath heard <span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The funeral dirge;—she sees the knot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of people, sees them in one spot—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And darting like a wounded bird<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She reached the grave, and with her breast</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Upon the ground received the rest,— <span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The consummation, the whole ruth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sorrow of this final truth!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="bindent2">CANTO SEVENTH</p> + +<div class="poem" style="font-size: 90%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">"Powers there are</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That touch each other to the quick—in modes</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Which the gross world no sense hath to perceive,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">No soul to dream of."<a name="FNanchor_OO_438" id="FNanchor_OO_438"></a><a href="#Footnote_OO_438" class="fnanchor">[OO]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou Spirit, whose angelic hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was to the harp a strong command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Called the submissive strings to wake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In glory for this Maiden's sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, Spirit! whither hath she fled <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hide her poor afflicted head?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What mighty forest in its gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enfolds her?—is a rifted tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the wilderness her seat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some island which the wild waves beat— <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that the Sufferer's last retreat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or some aspiring rock, that shrouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its perilous front in mists and clouds?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High-climbing rock, low<a name="FNanchor_175_366" id="FNanchor_175_366"></a><a href="#Footnote_175_366" class="fnanchor">[175]</a> sunless dale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sea, desert, what do these avail? <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh take her anguish and her fears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a deep<a name="FNanchor_176_367" id="FNanchor_176_367"></a><a href="#Footnote_176_367" class="fnanchor">[176]</a> recess of years!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'Tis done;—despoil and desolation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er Rylstone's fair domain have blown;<a name="FNanchor_PP_439" id="FNanchor_PP_439"></a><a href="#Footnote_PP_439" class="fnanchor">[PP]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Pools, terraces, and walks are sown<a name="FNanchor_177_368" id="FNanchor_177_368"></a><a href="#Footnote_177_368" class="fnanchor">[177]</a> <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With weeds; the bowers are overthrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or have given way to slow mutation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, in their ancient habitation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Norton name hath been unknown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lordly Mansion of its pride <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is stripped; the ravage hath spread wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through park and field, a perishing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mocks the gladness of the Spring!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with this silent gloom agreeing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appears<a name="FNanchor_178_369" id="FNanchor_178_369"></a><a href="#Footnote_178_369" class="fnanchor">[178]</a> a joyless human Being, <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of aspect such as if the waste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were under her dominion placed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a primrose bank, her throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of quietness, she sits alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="FNanchor_179_370" id="FNanchor_179_370"></a><a href="#Footnote_179_370" class="fnanchor">[179]</a>Among the ruins of a wood, <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erewhile a covert bright and green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where full many a brave tree stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That used to spread its boughs, and ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the sweet bird's carolling.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Behold her, like a virgin Queen, <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neglecting in imperial state<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These outward images of fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carrying inward a serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And perfect sway, through many a thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of chance and change, that hath been brought <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the subjection of a holy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though stern and rigorous, melancholy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The like authority, with grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of awfulness, is in her face,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There hath she fixed it; yet it seems <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To o'ershadow by no native right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That face, which cannot lose the gleams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lose utterly the tender gleams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of gentleness and meek delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loving-kindness ever bright: <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such is her sovereign mien:—her dress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(A vest with woollen cincture tied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hood of mountain-wool undyed)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is homely,—fashioned to express<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wandering Pilgrim's humbleness. <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And she <i>hath</i> wandered, long and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the light of sun and star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath roamed in trouble and in grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Driven forward like a withered leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea like a ship at random blown <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To distant places and unknown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now she dares to seek a haven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among her native wilds of Craven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath seen again her Father's roof,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And put her fortitude to proof; <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mighty sorrow hath<a name="FNanchor_180_371" id="FNanchor_180_371"></a><a href="#Footnote_180_371" class="fnanchor">[180]</a> been borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she is thoroughly forlorn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her soul doth in itself stand fast,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Sustained by memory of the past<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strength of Reason; held above <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The infirmities of mortal love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Undaunted, lofty, calm, and stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And awfully impenetrable.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And so—beneath a mouldered tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A self-surviving leafless oak <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By unregarded age from stroke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ravage saved—sate Emily.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There did she rest, with head reclined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herself most like a stately flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Such have I seen) whom chance of birth <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath separated from its kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To live and die in a shady bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Single on the gladsome earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">When, with a noise like distant thunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A troop of deer came sweeping by; <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, suddenly, behold a wonder!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For One, among those rushing deer,<a name="FNanchor_181_372" id="FNanchor_181_372"></a><a href="#Footnote_181_372" class="fnanchor">[181]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A single One, in mid career<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath stopped, and fixed her<a name="FNanchor_182_373" id="FNanchor_182_373"></a><a href="#Footnote_182_373" class="fnanchor">[182]</a> large full eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the Lady Emily; <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Doe most beautiful, clear-white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A radiant creature, silver-bright!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus checked, a little while it stayed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little thoughtful pause it made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then advanced with stealth-like pace, <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew softly near her, and more near—</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Looked round—but saw no cause for fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So to her feet the Creature came,<a name="FNanchor_183_374" id="FNanchor_183_374"></a><a href="#Footnote_183_374" class="fnanchor">[183]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laid its head upon her knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And looked into the Lady's face, <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A look of pure benignity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fond unclouded memory.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is, thought Emily, the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very Doe of other years!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pleading look the Lady viewed, <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, by her gushing thoughts subdued,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She melted into tears—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A flood of tears, that flowed apace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the happy Creature's face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Oh, moment ever blest! O Pair <span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beloved of Heaven, Heaven's chosen<a name="FNanchor_184_375" id="FNanchor_184_375"></a><a href="#Footnote_184_375" class="fnanchor">[184]</a> care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was for you a precious greeting;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And may it prove a fruitful meeting!<a name="FNanchor_185_376" id="FNanchor_185_376"></a><a href="#Footnote_185_376" class="fnanchor">[185]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joined are they, and the sylvan Doe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can she depart? can she forego <span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lady, once her playful peer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now her sainted Mistress dear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And will not Emily receive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This lovely chronicler of things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long past, delights and sorrowings? <span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone Sufferer! will not she believe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The promise in that speaking face;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And welcome, as a gift of grace,<a name="FNanchor_186_377" id="FNanchor_186_377"></a><a href="#Footnote_186_377" class="fnanchor">[186]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The saddest thought the Creature brings?<a name="FNanchor_187_378" id="FNanchor_187_378"></a><a href="#Footnote_187_378" class="fnanchor">[187]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">That day, the first of a re-union <span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which was to teem with high communion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That day of balmy April weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They tarried in the wood together.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when, ere fall of evening dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She from her<a name="FNanchor_188_379" id="FNanchor_188_379"></a><a href="#Footnote_188_379" class="fnanchor">[188]</a> sylvan haunt withdrew, <span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The White Doe tracked with faithful pace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lady to her dwelling-place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That nook where, on paternal ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A habitation she had found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Master of whose humble board <span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once owned her Father for his Lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hut, by tufted trees defended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Rylstone brook with Wharf is blended.<a name="FNanchor_QQ_440" id="FNanchor_QQ_440"></a><a href="#Footnote_QQ_440" class="fnanchor">[QQ]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">When Emily by morning light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went forth, the Doe stood there<a name="FNanchor_189_380" id="FNanchor_189_380"></a><a href="#Footnote_189_380" class="fnanchor">[189]</a> in sight. <span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She shrunk:—with one frail shock of pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Received and followed by a prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw the Creature once again;<a name="FNanchor_190_381" id="FNanchor_190_381"></a><a href="#Footnote_190_381" class="fnanchor">[190]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Shun will she not, she feels, will bear;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, wheresoever she looked round, <span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All now was trouble-haunted ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And therefore now she deems it good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more this restless neighbourhood<a name="FNanchor_191_382" id="FNanchor_191_382"></a><a href="#Footnote_191_382" class="fnanchor">[191]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To leave. Unwooed, yet unforbidden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The White Doe followed up the vale, <span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up to another cottage, hidden<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the deep fork of Amerdale;<a name="FNanchor_RR_441" id="FNanchor_RR_441"></a><a href="#Footnote_RR_441" class="fnanchor">[RR]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there may Emily restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herself, in spots unseen before.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Why tell of mossy rock, or tree, <span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By lurking Dernbrook's pathless side,<a name="FNanchor_SS_442" id="FNanchor_SS_442"></a><a href="#Footnote_SS_442" class="fnanchor">[SS]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haunts of a strengthening amity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That calmed her, cheered, and fortified?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she hath ventured now to read<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of time, and place, and thought, and deed— <span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endless history that lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her silent Follower's eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who with a power like human reason</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Discerns the favourable season,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Skilled to approach or to retire,— <span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From looks conceiving her desire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From look, deportment, voice, or mien,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That vary to the heart within.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If she too passionately wreathed<a name="FNanchor_192_383" id="FNanchor_192_383"></a><a href="#Footnote_192_383" class="fnanchor">[192]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her arms, or over-deeply breathed, <span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walked quick or slowly, every mood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In its degree was understood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then well may their accord be true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kindliest<a name="FNanchor_193_384" id="FNanchor_193_384"></a><a href="#Footnote_193_384" class="fnanchor">[193]</a> intercourse ensue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Oh! surely 'twas a gentle rousing <span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she by sudden glimpse espied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The White Doe on the mountain browsing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or in the meadow wandered wide!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How pleased, when down the Straggler sank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside her, on some sunny bank! <span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How soothed, when in thick bower enclosed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They, like a nested pair, reposed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Vision! when it crossed the Maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within some rocky cavern laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dark cave's portal gliding by, <span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as whitest<a name="FNanchor_194_385" id="FNanchor_194_385"></a><a href="#Footnote_194_385" class="fnanchor">[194]</a> cloud on high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floating through the<a name="FNanchor_195_386" id="FNanchor_195_386"></a><a href="#Footnote_195_386" class="fnanchor">[195]</a> azure sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—What now is left for pain or fear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Presence, dearer and more dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While they, side by side, were straying, <span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the shepherd's pipe was playing,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Did now a very gladness yield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At morning to the dewy field,<a name="FNanchor_196_387" id="FNanchor_196_387"></a><a href="#Footnote_196_387" class="fnanchor">[196]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with a deeper peace endued<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hour of moonlight solitude. <span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">With her Companion, in such frame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of mind, to Rylstone back she came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, ranging<a name="FNanchor_197_388" id="FNanchor_197_388"></a><a href="#Footnote_197_388" class="fnanchor">[197]</a> through the wasted groves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Received the memory of old loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Undisturbed and undistrest, <span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a soul which now was blest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a soft spring-day of holy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mild, and grateful, melancholy:<a name="FNanchor_198_389" id="FNanchor_198_389"></a><a href="#Footnote_198_389" class="fnanchor">[198]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not sunless gloom or unenlightened,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But by tender fancies brightened. <span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">When the bells of Rylstone played<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their sabbath music—"<em class="antiqua">God us ayde!</em>"<a name="FNanchor_TT_443" id="FNanchor_TT_443"></a><a href="#Footnote_TT_443" class="fnanchor">[TT]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That was the sound they seemed to speak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inscriptive legend which I ween<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May on those holy bells be seen, <span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That legend and her Grandsire's name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oftentimes the Lady meek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had in her childhood read the same;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Words which she slighted at that day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, when such sad change was wrought, <span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of that lonely name she thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bells of Rylstone seemed to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While she sate listening in the shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With vocal music, "<em class="antiqua">God us ayde</em>;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the hills were glad to bear <span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their part in this effectual prayer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Nor lacked she Reason's firmest power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with the White Doe at her side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up would she climb to Norton Tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thence look round her far and wide, <span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her fate there measuring;—all is stilled,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weak One hath subdued her heart;<a name="FNanchor_199_390" id="FNanchor_199_390"></a><a href="#Footnote_199_390" class="fnanchor">[199]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the prophecy fulfilled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fulfilled, and she sustains her part!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But here her Brother's words have failed; <span class="linenum">235</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here hath a milder doom prevailed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she, of him and all bereft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath yet this faithful Partner left;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This one Associate<a name="FNanchor_200_391" id="FNanchor_200_391"></a><a href="#Footnote_200_391" class="fnanchor">[200]</a> that disproves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His words, remains for her, and loves. <span class="linenum">240</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If tears are shed, they do not fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For loss of him—for one, or all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, sometimes, sometimes doth she weep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved gently in her soul's soft sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few tears down her cheek descend <span class="linenum">245</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this her last and living Friend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Bless, tender Hearts, their mutual lot,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And bless for both this savage spot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which Emily doth sacred hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For reasons dear and manifold— <span class="linenum">250</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here hath she, here before her sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close to the summit of this height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grassy rock-encircled Pound<a name="FNanchor_UU_444" id="FNanchor_UU_444"></a><a href="#Footnote_UU_444" class="fnanchor">[UU]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which the Creature first was found.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So beautiful the timid Thrall <span class="linenum">255</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(A spotless Youngling white as foam)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her youngest Brother brought it home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The youngest, then a lusty boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bore it, or led, to Rylstone-hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heart brimful of pride and joy!<a name="FNanchor_201_392" id="FNanchor_201_392"></a><a href="#Footnote_201_392" class="fnanchor">[201]</a> <span class="linenum">260</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span><span class="i1">But most to Bolton's sacred Pile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On favouring nights, she loved to go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There ranged through cloister, court, and aisle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attended by the soft-paced Doe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor feared she in the still moonshine<a name="FNanchor_202_393" id="FNanchor_202_393"></a><a href="#Footnote_202_393" class="fnanchor">[202]</a> <span class="linenum">265</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To look upon Saint Mary's shrine;<a name="FNanchor_VV_445" id="FNanchor_VV_445"></a><a href="#Footnote_VV_445" class="fnanchor">[VV]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor on the lonely turf that showed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Francis slept in his last abode.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For that she came; there oft she sate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forlorn, but not disconsolate:<a name="FNanchor_203_394" id="FNanchor_203_394"></a><a href="#Footnote_203_394" class="fnanchor">[203]</a> <span class="linenum">270</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, when she from the abyss returned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thought, she neither shrunk nor mourned;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was happy that she lived to greet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her mute Companion as it lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In love and pity at her feet; <span class="linenum">275</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How happy in its<a name="FNanchor_204_395" id="FNanchor_204_395"></a><a href="#Footnote_204_395" class="fnanchor">[204]</a> turn to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The<a name="FNanchor_205_396" id="FNanchor_205_396"></a><a href="#Footnote_205_396" class="fnanchor">[205]</a> recognition! the mild glance</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Beamed from that gracious countenance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Communication, like the ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a new morning, to the nature <span class="linenum">280</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prospects of the inferior Creature!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A mortal Song we sing,<a name="FNanchor_206_397" id="FNanchor_206_397"></a><a href="#Footnote_206_397" class="fnanchor">[206]</a> by dower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Encouraged of celestial power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Power which the viewless Spirit shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By whom we were first visited; <span class="linenum">285</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose voice we heard, whose hand and wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept like a breeze the conscious strings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, left in solitude, erewhile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We stood before this ruined Pile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, quitting unsubstantial dreams, <span class="linenum">290</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sang in this Presence kindred themes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distress and desolation spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through human hearts, and pleasure dead,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead—but to live again on earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A second and yet nobler birth; <span class="linenum">295</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dire overthrow, and yet how high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The re-ascent in sanctity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From fair to fairer; day by day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A more divine and loftier way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even such this blessèd Pilgrim trod, <span class="linenum">300</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By sorrow lifted towards her God;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uplifted to the purest sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of undisturbed mortality.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her own thoughts loved she; and could bend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dear look to her lowly Friend; <span class="linenum">305</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There stopped; her thirst was satisfied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With what this innocent spring supplied:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sanction inwardly she bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stood apart from human cares:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to the world returned no more, <span class="linenum">310</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although with no unwilling mind</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Help did she give at need, and joined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Wharfdale peasants in their prayers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length, thus faintly, faintly tied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To earth, she was set free, and died. <span class="linenum">315</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy soul, exalted Emily,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maid of the blasted family,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose to the God from whom it came!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—In Rylstone Church her mortal frame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was buried by her Mother's side. <span class="linenum">320</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Most glorious sunset! and a ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Survives—the twilight of this day—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that fair Creature whom the fields<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Support, and whom the forest shields;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, having filled a holy place, <span class="linenum">325</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Partakes, in her degree, Heaven's grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bears a memory and a mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raised far above the law of kind;<a name="FNanchor_WW_446" id="FNanchor_WW_446"></a><a href="#Footnote_WW_446" class="fnanchor">[WW]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haunting the spots with lonely cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which her dear Mistress once held dear: <span class="linenum">330</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loves most what Emily loved most—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The enclosure of this church-yard ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here wanders like a gliding ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every sabbath here is found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes with the people when the bells <span class="linenum">335</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are heard among the moorland dells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Finds entrance through yon arch, where way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies open on the sabbath-day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here walks amid the mournful waste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of prostrate altars, shrines defaced, <span class="linenum">340</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And floors encumbered with rich show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fret-work imagery laid low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paces softly, or makes halt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By fractured cell, or tomb, or vault;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By plate of monumental brass <span class="linenum">345</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span><span class="i0">Dim-gleaming among weeds and grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sculptured Forms of Warriors brave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But chiefly by that single grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That one sequestered hillock green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pensive visitant is seen. <span class="linenum">350</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There doth the gentle Creature lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With those adversities unmoved;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm spectacle, by earth and sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In their benignity approved!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye, methinks, this hoary Pile, <span class="linenum">355</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Subdued by outrage and decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks down upon her with a smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gracious smile, that seems to say—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou, thou art not a Child of Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Daughter of the Eternal Prime!" <span class="linenum">360</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The following is the full text of the first "note" to <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The +White Doe of Rylstone</i></a>, published in the quarto edition of 1815. +The other notes to that edition are printed in this, at the foot +of the pages where they occur:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"The Poem of <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a> is founded on +a local tradition, and on the Ballad in Percy's Collection, +entitled <i>The Rising of the North</i>. The tradition is as +follows: 'About this time,' not long after the Dissolution, 'a +White Doe, say the aged people of the neighbourhood, long +continued to make a weekly pilgrimage from Rylstone over the +fells of Bolton, and was constantly found in the Abbey +Church-yard during divine service; after the close of which she +returned home as regularly as the rest of the congregation.'—Dr. +<span class="smcap">Whitaker's</span> <i>History of the Deanery of Craven</i>.—Rylstone +was the property and residence of the Nortons, distinguished in +that ill-advised and unfortunate Insurrection, which led me to +connect with this tradition the principal circumstances of their +fate, as recorded in the Ballad which I have thought it proper +to annex.</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>The Rising in the North.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>"The subject of this ballad is the great Northern Insurrection +in the 12th year of Elizabeth, 1569, which proved so fatal +to Thomas Percy, the seventh Earl of Northumberland.</p> + +<p>"There had not long before been a secret negociation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +entered into between some of the Scottish and English nobility, +to bring about a marriage between Mary Q. of Scots, at +that time a prisoner in England, and the Duke of Norfolk, a +nobleman of excellent character. This match was proposed to +all the most considerable of the English nobility, and among +the rest to the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, +two noblemen very powerful in the North. As it seemed to +promise a speedy and safe conclusion of the troubles in +Scotland, with many advantages to the crown of England, they +all consented to it, provided it should prove agreeable to Queen +Elizabeth. The Earl of Leicester (Elizabeth's favourite) +undertook to break the matter to her, but before he could find +an opportunity, the affair had come to her ears by other hands, +and she was thrown into a violent flame. The Duke of +Norfolk, with several of his friends, was committed to the +Tower, and summons were sent to the Northern Earls +instantly to make their appearance at court. It is said that the +Earl of Northumberland, who was a man of a mild and gentle +nature,<a name="FNanchor_XX_447" id="FNanchor_XX_447"></a><a href="#Footnote_XX_447" class="fnanchor">[XX]</a> was deliberating with himself whether he should not +obey the message, and rely upon the Queen's candour and +clemency, when he was forced into desperate measures by a +sudden report at midnight, Nov. 14, that a party of his enemies +were come to seize his person. The Earl was then at his house +at Topcliffe in Yorkshire. When, rising hastily out of bed, he +withdrew to the Earl of Westmoreland at Brancepeth, where +the country came in to them, and pressed them to take up arms +in their own defence. They accordingly set up their standards, +declaring their intent was to restore the ancient Religion, to +get the succession of the crown firmly settled, and to prevent +the destruction of the ancient nobility, etc. Their common +banner (on which was displayed the cross, together with the +five wounds of Christ) was borne by an ancient gentleman, Richard +Norton, Esquire, who, with his sons (among whom, Christopher, +Marmaduke, and Thomas, are expressly named by Camden), +distinguished himself on this occasion. Having entered +Durham, they tore the Bible, etc., and caused mass to be said +there; they then marched on to Clifford-moor near Wetherby, +where they mustered their men.... The two Earls, who +spent their large estates in hospitality, and were extremely +beloved on that account, were masters of little ready money; +the E. of Northumberland bringing with him only 8000<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +crowns, and the E. of Westmoreland nothing at all, for the +subsistence of their forces, they were not able to march to +London, as they had at first intended. In these circumstances, +Westmoreland began so visibly to despond, that many of his +men slunk away, though Northumberland still kept up his +resolution, and was master of the field till December 13, +when the Earl of Sussex, accompanied with Lord Hunsden and +others, having marched out of York at the head of a large body +of forces, and being followed by a still larger army under the +command of Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick, the insurgents +retreated northward towards the borders, and there dismissing +their followers, made their escape into Scotland. Though this +insurrection had been suppressed with so little bloodshed, the +Earl of Sussex and Sir George Bowes, marshal of the army, +put vast numbers to death by martial law, without any regular +trial. The former of these caused at Durham sixty-three +constables to be hanged at once. And the latter made his +boast, that for sixty miles in length, and forty in breadth, +betwixt Newcastle and Wetherby, there was hardly a town or +village wherein he had not executed some of the inhabitants. +This exceeds the cruelties practised in the West after +Monmouth's rebellion.</p> + +<p>"Such is the account collected from Stow, Speed, Camden, +Guthrie, Carte, and Rapin; it agrees, in most particulars, with +the following Ballad, apparently the production of some northern +minstrel.—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Listen, lively lordings all,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Lithe and listen unto mee,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And I will sing of a noble earle,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The noblest earle in the north countrie.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Earle Percy is into his garden gone,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And after him walks his fair leddie:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">I heard a bird sing in mine ear,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That I must either fight, or flee.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now heaven forefend, my dearest lord,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That ever such harm should hap to thee:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">But goe to London to the court,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And fair fall truth and honestie.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now nay, now nay, my ladye gay,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Alas! thy counsell suits not mee;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Mine enemies prevail so fast,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That at the court I may not bee.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span><span class="i0">O goe to the court yet, good my lord,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And take thy gallant men with thee;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">If any dare to do you wrong,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Then your warrant they may bee.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now nay, now nay, thou ladye faire,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The court is full of subtiltie:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And if I goe to the court, ladye,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Never more I may thee see.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet goe to the court, my lord, she sayes,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And I myselfe will ryde wi' thee:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">At court then for my dearest lord,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">His faithful borrowe I will bee.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now nay, now nay, my ladye deare;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Far lever had I lose my life,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Than leave among my cruell foes</span><br /> +<span class="i2">My love in jeopardy and strife.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But come thou hither, my little foot-page,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Come thou hither unto mee,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To Maister Norton thou must goe</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In all the haste that ever may bee.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Commend me to that gentleman,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And beare this letter here fro mee;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And say that earnestly I praye,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">He will ryde in my companie.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One while the little foot-page went,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And another while he ran;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Untill he came to his journey's end,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The little foot-page never blan.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When to that gentleman he came,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Down he kneeled on his knee;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And took the letter betwixt his hands,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And lett the gentleman it see.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when the letter it was redd,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Affore that goodlye companie,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">I wis if you the truthe wold know,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">There was many a weeping eye.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sayd, Come thither, Christopher Norton,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">A gallant youth thou seem'st to bee;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">What dost thou counsell me, my sonne,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Now that good earle's in jeopardy?</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span><span class="i0">Father, my counselle's fair and free;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That erle he is a noble lord,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And whatsoever to him you hight,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">I would not have you breake your word.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gramercy, Christopher, my sonne,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Thy counsell well it liketh mee,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And if we speed and 'scape with life,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Well advanced shalt thou bee.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come you hither, my nine good sonnes,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Gallant men I trowe you bee:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">How many of you, my children deare,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Will stand by that good erle and mee?</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Eight of them did answer make,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Eight of them spake hastilie,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">O Father, till the day we dye</span><br /> +<span class="i2">We'll stand by that good erle and thee.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gramercy, now, my children deare,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">You shew yourselves right bold and brave,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And whethersoe'er I live or dye,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">A father's blessing you shall have.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But what say'st thou, O Francis Norton,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Thou art mine eldest sonne and heire:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Somewhat lies brooding in thy breast;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Whatever it bee, to mee declare.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Father, you are an aged man,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Your head is white, your beard is gray;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">It were a shame at these your years</span><br /> +<span class="i2">For you to ryse in such a fray.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now fye upon thee, coward Francis,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Thou never learned'st this of mee;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">When thou wert young and tender of age,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Why did I make soe much of thee?</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But, father, I will wend with you,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Unarm'd and naked will I bee;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And he that strikes against the crowne,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Ever an ill death may he dee.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then rose that reverend gentleman,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And with him came a goodlye band</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To join with the brave Earle Percy,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And all the flower o' Northumberland.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span><span class="i0">With them the noble Nevill came,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The erle of Westmoreland was hee;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">At Wetherbye they mustered their host,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Thirteen thousand fair to see.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Westmorland his ancyent raisde,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The Dun Bull he rays'd on hye,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And three Dogs with golden collars</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Were there set out most royallye.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Erle Percy there his ancyent spread,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The Halfe Moone shining all soe faire;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The Nortons ancyent had the Crosse,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And the five wounds our Lord did beare.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Sir George Bowes he straitwaye rose,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">After them some spoile to make:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Those noble erles turned back againe,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And aye they vowed that knight to take.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That baron he to his castle fled,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">To Barnard castle then fled hee.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The uttermost walles were eathe to win.</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The earles have wonne them presentlie.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The uttermost walles were lime and bricke;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">But though they won them soon anone,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Long ere they wan their innermost walles,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">For they were cut in rocke and stone.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then news unto leeve London came</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In all the speed that ever might bee,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And word is brought to our royall queene</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of the rysing in the North countrie.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her grace she turned her round about,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And like a royall queene shee swore,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">I will ordayne them such a breakfast,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As never was in the North before.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shee caused thirty thousand men be rays'd,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">With horse and harneis faire to see;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">She caused thirty thousand men be raised</span><br /> +<span class="i2">To take the earles i' th' North countrie.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wi' them the false Erle Warwicke went,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The Erle Sussex and the Lord Hunsden,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Untill they to York castle came</span><br /> +<span class="i2">I wiss they never stint ne blan.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span><span class="i0">Now spred thy ancyent, Westmoreland,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Thy dun Bull faine would we spye:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And thou, the Erle of Northumberland,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Now rayse thy Halfe Moone on hye.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the dun bulle is fled and gone,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And the halfe moone vanished away:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The Erles, though they were brave and bold,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Against soe many could not stay.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thee, Norton, wi' thine eight good sonnes,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">They doomed to dye, alas! for ruth!</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Thy reverend lockes thee could not save,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Nor them their faire and blooming youthe.</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wi' them full many a gallant wight</span><br /> +<span class="i2">They cruellye bereav'd of life:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And many a child made fatherlesse,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And widowed many a tender wife.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'Bolton Priory,' says Dr. Whitaker in his excellent book—<i>The +History and Antiquities of the Deanery of Craven</i>—'stands +upon a beautiful curvature of the Wharf, on a level +sufficiently elevated to protect it from inundations, and low +enough for every purpose of picturesque effect.</p> + +<p>"'Opposite to the East window of the Priory Church, the +river washes the foot of a rock nearly perpendicular, and of the +richest purple, where several of the mineral beds, which break +out, instead of maintaining their usual inclination to the horizon, +are twisted by some inconceivable process, into undulating and +spiral lines. To the South all is soft and delicious; the eye +reposes upon a few rich pastures, a moderate reach of the river, +sufficiently tranquil to form a mirror to the sun, and the +bounding hills beyond, neither too near nor too lofty to exclude, +even in winter, any portion of his rays.</p> + +<p>"'But, after all, the glories of Bolton are on the North. +Whatever the most fastidious taste could require to constitute a +perfect landscape is not only found here, but in its proper place. +In front, and immediately under the eye, is a smooth expanse +of park-like enclosure, spotted with native elm, ash, etc. of the +finest growth: on the right a skirting oak wood, with jutting +points of grey rock; on the left a rising copse. Still forward +are seen the aged groves of Bolton Park, the growth of centuries; +and farther yet, the barren and rocky distances of Simon-seat +and Barden Fell contrasted with the warmth, fertility, and +luxuriant foliage of the valley below.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>"'About half a mile above Bolton the Valley closes, and +either side of the Wharf is overhung by solemn woods, from +which huge perpendicular masses of grey rock jut out at +intervals.</p> + +<p>"'This sequestered scene was almost inaccessible till of late, +that ridings have been cut on both sides of the River, and the +most interesting points laid open by judicious thinnings in the +woods. Here a tributary stream rushes from a waterfall, and +bursts through a woody glen to mingle its waters with the +Wharf: there the Wharf itself is nearly lost in a deep cleft in +the rock, and next becomes a horned flood enclosing a woody +island—sometimes it reposes for a moment, and then resumes +its native character, lively, irregular, and impetuous.</p> + +<p>"'The cleft mentioned above is the tremendous <span class="smcap">Strid</span>. +This chasm, being incapable of receiving the winter floods, has +formed, on either side, a broad strand of naked gritstone full of +rock-basons, or "pots of the Linn," which bear witness to the +restless impetuosity of so many Northern torrents. But, if here +Wharf is lost to the eye, it amply repays another sense by its +deep and solemn roar, like "the Voice of the angry Spirit of +the Waters," heard far above and beneath, amidst the silence +of the surrounding woods.</p> + +<p>"'The terminating object of the landscape is the remains of +Barden Tower, interesting from their form and situation, and +still more so from the recollections which they excite.'"</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a> has been assigned chronologically +to the year 1808; although part of it—probably the larger half—was +written during the autumn of the previous year, and it +remained unfinished in 1810, while the Dedication was not +written till 1815. In the Fenwick note, Wordsworth tells us +that the "earlier half" was written at Stockton-on-Tees "at +the close" of 1807, and "proceeded with" at Dove Cottage, +after his return to Grasmere, which was in April 1808. But +on the 28th February, 1810, Dorothy Wordsworth, writing from +Allan Bank to Lady Beaumont, says, "Before my brother +turns to any other labour, I hope he will have finished three +books of <i>The Recluse</i>. He seldom writes less than 50 lines +every day. After this task is finished he hopes to complete +<a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe</i></a>, and proud should we all be if it should be +honoured by a frontispiece from the pencil of Sir George +Beaumont. Perhaps this is not impossible, if you come into +the north next summer."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>A frontispiece was drawn by Sir George Beaumont for +the quarto edition of 1815.</p> + +<p>When part of the poem was finished, Wordsworth showed it +to Southey; and Southey, writing to Walter Scott, in February +1808, said,—</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"Wordsworth has just completed a most masterly poem +upon the fate of the Nortons; two or three lines in the old +ballad of <i>The Rising of the North</i> gave him the hint. The +story affected me more deeply than I wish to be affected; +younger readers, however, will not object to the depth of the +distress, and nothing was ever more ably treated. He is looking, +too, for a narrative subject, pitched in a lower key."</p> + +<p>One of the most interesting letters of S. T. Coleridge to +Wordsworth is an undated one, sent from London in the spring +of 1808, containing a characteristic criticism of <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe</i></a>. +The Wordsworth family had asked Coleridge to discuss the +subject of the publication of the poem with the Longmans' +firm. It is more than probable that it was Coleridge's criticism +of the structural defects in the poem, that led Wordsworth to +postpone its publication. The following is part of the +letter:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"... In my reperusals of the poem, it seemed always to +strike on my feeling as well as judgment, that if there were any +serious defect, it consisted in a disproportion of the Accidents +to the spiritual Incidents; and, closely connected with this,—if +it be not indeed the same,—that Emily is indeed talked of, +and once appears, but neither speaks nor acts, in all the first +three-fourths of the poem. Then, as the outward interest of +the poem is in favour of the old man's religious feelings, and +the filial heroism of his band of sons, it seemed to require +something in order to place the two protestant malcontents of +the family in a light that made them beautiful as well as +virtuous. In short, to express it far more strongly than I +mean or think, in order (in the present anguish of my spirits) +to be able to express it at all, that three-fourths of the work +is everything rather <i>than</i> Emily; and then, the last—almost a +separate and doubtless an exquisite poem—wholly <i>of</i> Emily. +The whole of the rest, and the delivering up of the family +by Francis, I never ceased to find, not only comparatively +heavy, but to me quite obscure as to Francis's motives. On +the few, to whom, within my acquaintance, the poem has been +read, either by yourself or me (I have, I believe, read it only at +the Beaumonts'), it produced the same effect.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>"Now I have conceived two little incidents, the introduction +of which, joined to a little abridgment, and lyrical precipitation +of the last half of the third, I had thought would have removed +this defect, so seeming to me, and bring to a finer balance the +<i>business</i> with the <i>action</i> of the tale. But after my receipt of +your letter, concerning Lamb's censures, I felt my courage fail, +and that what I deemed a harmonizing would disgust you as a +<i>materialization</i> of the plan, and appear to you like insensibility +to the power of the history in the mind. Not that I should +have shrunk back from the mere fear of giving transient pain, +and a temporary offence, from the want of sympathy of feeling +and coincidence of opinions. I rather envy than blame that +deep interest in a production, which is inevitable perhaps, and +certainly not dishonourable to such as feel poetry their calling +and their duty, and which no man would find much fault with +if the object, instead of a poem, were a large estate or a title. +It appears to me to become a foible only when the poet denies, +or is unconscious of its existence, but I did not deem myself in +such a state of mind as to entitle me to rely on my own opinion +when opposed to yours, from the heat and bustle of these disgusting +lectures.</p> + +<p class="center" style="letter-spacing: 3em;">·······</p> + +<p>"From most of these causes I was suffering, so as not to +allow me any rational confidence in my opinions when contrary +to yours, which had been formed in calmness and on long reflection. +Then I received your sister's letter, stating the wish +that I would give up the thought of proposing the means of +correction, and merely point out the things to be corrected, +which—as they could be of no great consequence—you might +do in a day or two, and the publication of the poem—for the +immediacy of which she expressed great anxiety—be no longer +retarded. The merely verbal <i>alteranda</i> did appear to me very +few and trifling. From your letter on L——, I concluded that +you would not have the incidents and action interfered with, +and therefore I sent it off; but soon retracted it, in order to +note down the single words and phrases that I disliked in the +books, after the two first, as there would be time to receive +your opinion of them during the printing of the two first, in +which I saw nothing amiss, except the one passage we altered +together, and the two lines which I scratched out, because you +yourself were doubtful. Mrs. Shepherd told me that she had +felt them exactly as I did—namely, as interrupting the spirit of +the continuous tranquil motion of <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe</i></a>."</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>It will be seen from this letter that Wordsworth had gone +over the poem with Coleridge, and that they had altered some +passages "together"; that Coleridge had read a copy of it sent +to the Beaumonts, doubtless at Dunmow in Essex; that he +had thought of a plan by which the poem could be immensely +improved, both by addition and subtraction; but that hearing +from Wordsworth, or more probably from his sister Dorothy, +that Charles Lamb had also criticised its structure, he gave up +his intention of sending to his friend suggestions, which +evidently implied a radical alteration of "the incidents and +action" of the tale. It would have been extremely interesting +to know how the author of <i>Christabel</i> and <i>The Ancient Mariner</i> +proposed to recast <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a>. It is, alas! +impossible for posterity to know this, although it is not difficult +to conjecture the line which the alterations would take. +Wordsworth's genius was not great in construction, as in imagination; +and he valued a story only as giving him a "point +of departure" for a flight of fancy or of idealization. Early in +1808 he wrote to Walter Scott asking him for facts about the +Norton family. Scott supplied him with them, and the following +was Wordsworth's reply.</p> + +<p class="quotdate"> +"<span class="smcap">Grasmere</span>, May 14, 1808.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="indentsm">"<span class="smcap">My dear Scott</span>—Thank you for the interesting particulars +about the Nortons. I like them much for their own +sakes; but so far from being serviceable to my poem, they +would stand in the way of it, as I have followed (as I was in +duty bound to do) the traditionary and common historic account. +Therefore I shall say, in this case, a plague upon your industrious +antiquarians, that have put my fine story to confusion."</p> +</div> + +<p>From the "advertisement" which Wordsworth prefixed to +his edition of 1815, I infer that the larger part of the poem +was written at Stockton. In it he says that "the Poem of +<a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe</i></a> was composed at the close of the year" (1807). +This is an illustration of the vague manner in which he was +in the habit of assigning dates. The Fenwick note, and the +evidence of his sister's letter, is conclusive; although the fact +that <a href="#THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA"><i>The Force of Prayer</i></a>—written in 1807—is called in +the Fenwick note "an appendage to <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe</i></a>," is +further confirmation of the belief that the principal part of +the latter poem was finished in 1807. All things considered, +<a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a> may be most conveniently placed +after the poems belonging to the year 1807, and before those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +known to have been written in 1808; while <a href="#THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA"><i>The Force of +Prayer</i></a> naturally follows it.</p> + +<p>The poem—first published in quarto in 1815—was scarcely +altered in the editions of 1820, 1827, and 1832. In 1837, +however, it was revised throughout, and in that year the text +was virtually settled; the subsequent changes being few and +insignificant, while those introduced in 1837 were numerous +and important. A glance at the foot-notes will show that +many passages were entirely rewritten in that year, and that +a good many lines of the earlier text were altogether omitted. +All the poems were subjected to minute revision in 1836-37; +but few, if any, were more thoroughly recast, and improved, +in that year than <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a>. As a sample +of the best kind of changes—where a new thought was added +to the earlier text with admirable felicity—compare the lines +in canto vii., as it stood in 1815, when the Lady Emily +first saw the White Doe at the old Hall of Rylstone, after her +terrible losses and desolation—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Lone Sufferer! will not she believe</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The promise in that speaking face,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And take this gift of Heaven with grace?</span> +</div></div> + +<p>with the additional thought conveyed in the version of 1837—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Lone Sufferer! will not she believe</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The promise in that speaking face;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And welcome, as a gift of grace,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The saddest thought the Creature brings?</span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the "Reminiscences" of Wordsworth—written by the Hon. +Mr. Justice Coleridge for the late Bishop of Lincoln's <i>Memoirs</i> +of his uncle—the following occurs. (See vol. ii. p. 311.) +"His conversation was on critical subjects, arising out of his +attempts to alter his poems. He said he considered <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White +Doe</i></a> as, in conception, the highest work he had ever produced. +The mere physical action was all unsuccessful: but the true +action of the poem was spiritual—the subduing of the will, +and all inferior fancies, to the perfect purifying and spiritualizing +of the intellectual nature; while the Doe, by connection +with Emily, is raised as it were from its mere animal nature +into something mysterious and saint-like. He said he should +devote much labour to perfecting the execution of it in the +mere business parts, in which, from anxiety 'to get on' with +the more important parts, he was sensible that imperfections +had crept in which gave the style a feebleness of character."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>From this conversation—which took place in 1836—it will +be seen that Wordsworth knew very well that there were feeble +passages in the earlier editions; and that, in the thorough +revision which he gave to all his poems in 1836-37, this one was +specially singled out for "much labour." The result is seen +by a glance at the changes of the text.</p> + +<p>The notes appended by Wordsworth to the edition of 1815 +explain some of the historical and topographical allusions in the +poem. To these the following editorial notes may be added—</p> + +<div class="section"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">I. (See pp. <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>.)<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>... Bolton's mouldering Priory.</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2" style="letter-spacing: 2em;">·······</span><br /> +<span class="i9"><i>... the tower</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Is standing with a voice of power,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2" style="letter-spacing: 2em;">·······</span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>And in the shattered fabric's heart</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Remaineth one protected part;</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>A Chapel, like a wild-bird's nest,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Closely embowered and trimly drest.</i></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>In 1153, the canons of the Augustinian Priory at Embsay, +near Skipton, were removed to Bolton, by William Fitz Duncan, +and his wife, Cecilia de Romillé, who granted it by charter +in exchange for the Manors of Skibdem and Stretton. The +establishment at Bolton consisted of a prior and about 15 +canons, over 200 persons (including servants and lay brethren) +being supported at Bolton. During the Scottish raids of the +fourteenth century, the prior and canons had frequently to +retreat to Skipton for safety. In 1542 the site of the priory +and demesnes were sold to Harry Clifford, first Earl of Cumberland. +From the last Earl of Cumberland it passed to the +second Earl of Cork, and then to the Devonshire family, to +which it still belongs. The following is part of the excellent +account of the Priory, given in Murray's <i>Yorkshire</i>:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"The chief relic of the Priory is the church, the nave of +which after the Dissolution was retained as the chapel of this +so-called 'Saxon-Cure.' This nave remains perfect, but the +rest of the church is in complete ruin. The lower walls of the +choir are Trans-Norman, and must have been built immediately +after (if not before) the removal from Embsay. The upper +walls and windows (the tracery of which is destroyed) are +decorated. The nave is early English, and decorated; and +the original west front remains with an elaborate Perpendicular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +front of excellent design, intended as the base of a western +tower, which was never finished.... The nave (which has +been restored under the direction of Crace)—the</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3h">... "'One protected part</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In the shattered fabric's heart,'</span> +</div></div> + +<p>is Early English on the south side, and Decorated on the +north.... At the end of the nave aisle, enclosed by a +Perpendicular screen, is a chantry, founded by the Mauleverers; +and below it is the vault, in which, according to tradition, +the Claphams of Beamsley and their ancestors the Mauleverers +were interred upright—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"'Pass, pass who will, yon chantry door;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And, through the chink in the fractured floor</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Look down, and see a griesly sight;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">A vault where the bodies are buried upright!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">There, face by face, and hand by hand,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The Claphams and Mauleverers stand.'</span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Whitaker, however, could never see this 'griesly sight' through +the chink in the floor; and it is perhaps altogether traditional. +The ruined portion of the church is entirely Decorated, with +the exception of the lower walls of the choir. The transepts +had eastern aisles. The north transept is nearly perfect: the +south retains only its western wall, in which are two decorated +windows. The piers of a central tower remain; but at what +period it was destroyed, or if it was ever completed, is uncertain. +The choir is long and aisleless. Some fragments of +tracery remain in the south window, which was a very fine +one. Below the window runs a Transitional Norman arcade. +Some portions of tomb-slabs remain in the choir.... The +church-yard lies on the north side of the ruins. This has been +made classic ground by Wordsworth's poem."</p> +</div> + +<div class="section"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">II. (See <a href="#Page_118">p. 118</a>.)<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10"><i>... the shy recess</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Of Barden's lowly quietness.</i></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Compare the poem <a href="#THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA"><i>The Force of Prayer, or the Founding of +Bolton Priory</i>, p. 204</a>. Whitaker writes thus of the district of +Upper Wharfedale at Barden. "Grey tower-like projections of +rock, stained with the various hues of lichens, and hung with +loose and streaming canopies of ling, start out at intervals." +Before the restoration of Henry Clifford, the Shepherd-lord,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +to the estates of his ancestors—on the accession of Henry +VII.—there was only a keeper's lodge or tower at Barden, +"one of six which existed in different parts of Barden Forest. +The Shepherd-lord, whose early life among the Cumberland +Fells led him to seek quiet and retirement after his restoration, +preferred Barden to his greater castles, and enlarged +(or rather rebuilt) it so as to provide accommodation for a +moderate train of attendants."</p> + +<div class="section"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">III. (See <a href="#Page_121">p. 121</a>.)<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3"><i>It was the time when England's Queen</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Twelve years had reigned, a Sovereign dread;</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2" style="letter-spacing: 2em;">·······</span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>But now the inly-working North</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Was ripe to send its thousands forth,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>A potent vassalage, to fight</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>In Percy's and in Neville's right,</i> etc.</span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>The circumstances which led to the Rising in the North, +and the chief incidents of that unfortunate episode in English +history, are traced in detail by Mr. Froude, in the fifty-third +chapter of his <i>History of England</i>. They are also summarized, +in a lecture on <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a>, by the late Principal +Shairp, in his <i>Aspects of Poetry</i>, from which the following +passage is an extract (pp. 346-48).</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"The incidents on which the <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>White Doe</i></a> is founded belong +to the year 1569, the twelfth of Queen Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>"It is well known that as soon as Queen Mary of Scotland +was imprisoned in England, she became the centre around +which gathered all the intrigues which were then on foot, +not only in England but throughout Catholic Europe, to dethrone +the Protestant Queen Elizabeth. Abroad, the Catholic world +was collecting all its strength to crush the heretical island. +The bigot Pope, Pius V., with the dark intriguer, Philip II. +of Spain, and the savage Duke of Alva, were ready to pour +their forces on the shores of England.</p> + +<p>"At home, a secret negotiation for a marriage between +Queen Mary and the Duke of Norfolk had received the approval +of many of the chief English nobles. The Queen discovered +the plot, threw Norfolk and some of his friends into the Tower, +and summoned Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and Neville, +Earl of Westmoreland, immediately to appear at court. These<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +two earls were known to be holding secret communications with +Mary, and longing to see the old faith restored.</p> + +<p>"On receiving the summons, Northumberland at once withdrew +to Brancepeth Castle, a stronghold of the Earl of Westmoreland. +Straightway all their vassals rose, and gathered +round the two great earls. The whole of the North was in +arms. A proclamation went forth that they intended to restore +the ancient religion, to settle the succession to the crown, and +to prevent the destruction of the old nobility. As they marched +forward they were joined by all the strength of the Yorkshire +dales, and, among others, by a gentleman of ancient name, +Richard Norton, accompanied by eight brave sons. He came +bearing the common banner, called the Banner of the Five +Wounds, because on it was displayed the Cross with the five +wounds of our Lord. The insurgents entered Durham, tore the +Bible, caused mass to be said in the cathedral, and then set +forward as for York. Changing their purpose on the way, they +turned aside to lay siege to Barnard Castle, which was held by +Sir George Bowes for the Queen. While they lingered there +for eleven days, Sussex marched against them from York, and +the earls, losing heart, retired towards the Border, and disbanded +their forces, which were left to the vengeance of the +enemy, while they themselves sought refuge in Scotland. +Northumberland, after a confinement of several years in Loch +Leven Castle, was betrayed by the Scots to the English, and +put to death. Westmoreland died an exile in Flanders, the +last of the ancient house of the Nevilles, earls of Westmoreland. +Norton, with his eight sons, fell into the hands of Sussex, and +all suffered death at York. It is the fate of this ancient family +on which Wordsworth's poem is founded."</p> +</div> + +<p>This statement as to the fate of Norton's sons, however, is +not borne out by the historians. Mr. Froude says (<i>History of +England</i>, chap. 53), "Two sons of old Norton and two of his +brothers, after long and close cross-questioning in the Tower, +were tried and convicted at Westminster. Two of these +Nortons were afterwards pardoned. Two, one of whom was +Christopher, the poor youth who had been bewildered by the +fair eyes of the Queen of Scots at Bolton, were put to death at +Tyburn, with the usual cruelties."</p> + +<div class="section"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">IV. (See <a href="#Page_127">p. 127</a>.)<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>For we must fall, both we and ours—</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>This Mansion and these pleasant bowers,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Walks, pools, and arbours, homestead, hall—</i></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Our fate is theirs, will reach them all.</i></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Little now remains of Rylstone Hall but the site. "Some +garden flowers still, as when Whitaker wrote, mark the site of +the pleasaunce. The house fell into decay immediately after +the attainder of the Nortons; and, with the estates here, +remained in the hands of the Crown until the second year of +James I., when they were granted to the Earl of Cumberland. +Although Wordsworth makes the Nortons raise their famous +banner here, they assembled their followers in fact at Ripon +(November 18, 1569), but their Rylstone tenants rose with them."</p> + +<div class="section"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">V. (See <a href="#Page_137">p. 137</a>.)<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Until Lord Dacre with his power</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>From Naworth come; and Howard's aid</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Be with them openly displayed.</i></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Naworth Castle, at the head of the vale of Llanercort, in the +Gilsland district of Cumberland, was the seat of the Dacres from +the reign of Edward III. George, Lord Dacre, the last heir-male +of that family, was killed in 1559; and Lord William +Howard (the third son of Thomas, Duke of Norfolk), who was +made Warden of the Borders by Queen Elizabeth, and did much +to introduce order and good government into the district, +married the heiress of the Dacre family, and succeeded to the +castle and estate of Naworth. The arms over the entrance of +the castle are the Howard's and Dacre's quartered.</p> + +<div class="section"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">VI. (See <a href="#Page_137">p. 137</a>.)<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3"><i>... mitred Thurston—what a Host</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>He conquered!....</i></span><br /> +<span class="i9h"><i>... while to battle moved</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>The Standard, on the Sacred Wain</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>That bore it....</i></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>The Battle of the Standard was fought in 1137.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"One gleam of national glory broke the darkness of the +time. King David of Scotland stood first among the partizans +of his kinswoman Matilda, and on the accession of Stephen his +army crossed the border to enforce her claim. The pillage and +cruelties of the wild tribes of Galloway and the Highlands +roused the spirit of the north; baron and freeman gathered at +York round Archbishop Thurstan, and marched to the field of +Northallerton to await the foe. The sacred banners of St.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +Cuthbert of Durham, St. Peter of York, St. John of Beverley, +and St. Wilfrid of Ripon, hung from a pole fixed in a four-wheeled +car, which stood in the centre of the host. 'I who +wear no armour,' shouted the chief of the Galwegians, 'will go +as far this day as any one with breastplate of mail;' his men +charged with wild shouts of 'Albin, Albin,' and were followed +by the Norman knighthood of the Lowlands. The rout, however, +was complete; the fierce hordes dashed in vain against +the close English ranks around the Standard, and the whole +army fled in confusion to Carlisle." (J. R. Green's <i>Short +History of the English People</i>, p. 99.)</p> + +<div class="section"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">VII. (See <a href="#Page_153">p. 153</a>.)<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>High on a point of rugged ground</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Among the wastes of Rylstone Fell</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Above the loftiest ridge or mound</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Where foresters or shepherds dwell,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>An edifice of warlike frame</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Stands single—Norton Tower its name—</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>It fronts all quarters, and looks round</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>O'er path and road, and plain and dell,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Dark moor, and gleam of pool and stream</i></span><br /> +<span class="i2"><i>Upon a prospect without bound.</i></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="blockquot">"Some mounds near the tower are thought to have been +used as butts for archers; and there are traces of a strong wall, +running from the tower to the edge of a deep glen, whence +a ditch runs to another ravine. This was once a pond, used +by the Nortons for detaining the red deer within the township +of Rylstone, which they asserted was not within the forest of +Skipton, and consequently that the Cliffords had no right to +hunt therein. The Cliffords eventually became lords of all the +Norton lands here."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>In January 1816, Wordsworth wrote thus to his friend +Archdeacon Wrangham.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"Of <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe</i></a> I have little to say, but that I hope +it will be acceptable to the intelligent, for whom alone it is +written. It starts from a high point of imagination, and comes +round, through various wanderings of that faculty, to a still +higher—nothing less than the apotheosis of the animal who +gives the first of the two titles to the poem. And as the poem +thus begins and ends with pure and lofty imagination, every +motive and impetus that actuates the persons introduced is from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +the same source; a kindred spirit pervades, and is intended to +harmonise, the whole. Throughout objects (the banner, for +instance) derive their influence, not from properties inherent in +them, not from what they <i>are</i> actually in themselves, but from +such as are <i>bestowed</i> upon them by the minds of those who are +conversant with, or affected by, these objects. Thus the poetry, +if there be any in the work, proceeds, as it ought to do, from +the <i>soul of man</i>, communicating its creative energies to the +images of the external world."</p> + +<p>The following is from a letter to Southey in the same year:—"Do +you know who reviewed <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe</i></a> in the +'Quarterly'? After having asserted that Mr. W. uses his words +without any regard to their sense, the writer says that on no other +principle can he explain that Emily is <i>always</i> called 'the +consecrated Emily.' Now, the name Emily occurs just fifteen +times in the poem; and out of these fifteen, the epithet is +attached to it <i>once</i>, and that for the express purpose of recalling +the scene in which she had been consecrated by her brother's +solemn adjuration, that she would fulfil her destiny, and become +a soul,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"'By force of sorrows high</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Uplifted to the purest sky</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of undisturbed mortality.'</span> +</div></div> + +<p>The point upon which the whole moral interest of the piece +hinges, when that speech is closed, occurs in this line,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"'He kissed the consecrated Maid;'</span> +</div></div> + +<p>And to bring back this to the reader, I repeated the epithet."</p> + +<p>In a letter to Wordsworth about <i>The Waggoner</i>, Charles +Lamb wrote, June 7, 1819, "I re-read <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of +Rylstone</i></a>; the title should be always written at length, as +Mary Sabilla Novello, a very nice woman of our acquaintance, +always signs hers at the bottom of the shortest note.... Manning +had just sent it home, and it came as fresh to me as the +immortal creature it speaks of. M. sent it home with a note, +having this passage in it: 'I cannot help writing to you while I +am reading Wordsworth's poem.... 'Tis broad, noble, poetical, +with a masterly scanning of human actions, absolutely above +common readers.'" (See <i>The Letters of Charles Lamb</i>, edited +by Alfred Ainger, vol. ii. pp. 25, 26.)</p> + +<p>Henry Crabb Robinson's judgment, as given in his <i>Diary</i>, +June 1815, is interesting. (See vol. i. p. 484.)</p> + +<p>The following is from Principal Shairp's estimate of <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The +White Doe of Rylstone</i></a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> in his Oxford Lectures, <i>Aspects of Poetry</i> +(chapter xii. pp. 373-76). "What is it that gives to it" (the +poem) "its chief power and charm? Is it not the imaginative +use which the poet has made of the White Doe? With her +appearance the poem opens, with her re-appearance it closes. +And the passages in which she is introduced are radiant with +the purest light of poetry. A mere floating tradition she was, +which the historian of Craven had preserved. How much does +the poet bring out of how little! It was a high stroke of genius +to seize on this slight traditionary incident, and make it the +organ of so much. What were the objects which he had to +describe and blend into one harmonious whole. They were +these:</p> + +<p>"1. The last expiring gleam of feudal chivalry, ending in +the ruin of an ancient race, and the desolation of an ancestral +home.</p> + +<p>"2. The sole survivor, purified and exalted by the sufferings +she had to undergo.</p> + +<p>"3. The pathos of the decaying sanctities of Bolton, after +wrong and outrage, abandoned to the healing of nature and time.</p> + +<p>"4. Lastly, the beautiful scenery of pastoral Wharfdale, +and of the fells around Bolton, which blend so well with these +affecting memories.</p> + +<p>"All these were before him—they had melted into his +imagination, and waited to be woven into one harmonious +creation. He takes the White Doe, and makes her the exponent, +the symbol, the embodiment of them all. The one central aim—to +represent the beatification of the heroine—how was this to +be attained? Had it been a drama, the poet would have made +the heroine give forth in speeches, her hidden mind and character. +But this was a romantic narrative. Was the poet to make her +soliloquise, analyse her own feelings, lay bare her heart in +metaphysical monologue? This might have been done by some +modern poets, but it was not Wordsworth's way of exhibiting +character, reflective though he was. When he analyses feelings +they are generally his own, not those of his characters. To +shadow forth that which is invisible, the sanctity of Emily's +chastened soul, he lays hold of this sensible image—a creature, +the purest, most innocent, most beautiful in the whole realm of +nature—and makes her the vehicle in which he embodies the +saintliness which is a thing invisible. It is the hardest of all +tasks to make spiritual things sensuous, without degrading them. +I know not where this difficulty has been more happily met;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +for we are made to feel that, before the poem closes, the Doe +has ceased to be a mere animal, or a physical creature at all, but +in the light of the poet's imagination, has been transfigured into +a heavenly apparition—a type of all that is pure, and affecting, +and saintly. And not only the chastened soul of her mistress, +but the beautiful Priory of Bolton, the whole Vale of Wharfe, +and all the surrounding scenery, are illumined by the glory +which she makes; her presence irradiates them all with a beauty +and an interest more than the eye discovers. Seen through +her as an imaginative transparency, they become spiritualized; +in fact, she and they alike become the symbol and expression +of the sentiment which pervades the poem—a sentiment broad +and deep as the world. And yet, any one who visits these +scenes, in a mellow autumnal day, will feel that she is no alien +or adventitious image, imported by the caprice of the poet, but +altogether native to the place, one which gathers up and concentrates +all the undefined spirit and sentiment which lie spread +around it. She both glorifies the scenery by her presence, and +herself seems to be a natural growth of the scenery, so that it +finds in her its most appropriate utterance. This power of +imagination to divine and project the very corporeal image +which suits and expresses the image of a scene, Wordsworth +has many times shown....</p> + +<p>"And so the poem has no definite end, but passes off, as it +were, into the illimitable. It rises out of the perturbations of +time and transitory things, and, passing upward itself, takes +our thoughts with it to calm places and eternal sunshine."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_192" id="Footnote_1_192"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_192"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... born of heavenly birth, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_193" id="Footnote_2_193"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_193"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... which ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_194" id="Footnote_3_194"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_194"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... is ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_195" id="Footnote_4_195"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_195"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... of the crystal Wharf, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_196" id="Footnote_5_196"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_196"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A rural Chapel, neatly drest,</span><br /> +<span class="var">In covert like a little nest; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_197" id="Footnote_6_197"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_197"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And faith and hope are in their prime, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_198" id="Footnote_7_198"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_198"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And right across the verdant sod</span><br /> +<span class="var">Towards the very house of God;</span> +</div></div><p> +Inserted in the editions of 1815 to 1832.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_199" id="Footnote_8_199"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_199"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A gift ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_200" id="Footnote_9_200"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_200"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Is through ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_201" id="Footnote_10_201"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_201"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... she no less</span><br /> +<span class="var">To the open day gives blessedness. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_202" id="Footnote_11_202"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_202"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var8h">... hand of healing,—</span><br /> +<span class="var">The altar, whence the cross was rent,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Now rich with mossy ornament,—</span><br /> +<span class="var">The dormitory's length laid bare,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Where the wild-rose blossoms fair;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And sapling ash, whose place of birth</span><br /> +<span class="var">Is that lordly chamber's hearth? <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">For altar, ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Or dormitory's length ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_203" id="Footnote_12_203"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_203"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Methinks she passeth by the sight, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_204" id="Footnote_13_204"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_204"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And in this way she fares, till at last <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_205" id="Footnote_14_205"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_205"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Gently ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_206" id="Footnote_15_206"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_206"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Like the river in its flowing;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Can there be a softer sound? <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_207" id="Footnote_16_207"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_207"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—When now again the people rear</span><br /> +<span class="var">A voice of praise, with awful chear! <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_208" id="Footnote_17_208"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_208"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Turn, with obeisance gladly paid,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Towards the spot, where, full in view,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The lovely Doe of whitest hue, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_209" id="Footnote_18_209"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_209"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">This whisper soft repeats what he</span><br /> +<span class="var">Had known from early infancy.</span> +</div></div><p> +In the editions of 1815 to 1832 the paragraph begins with these +lines.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_210" id="Footnote_19_210"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_210"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... is ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_211" id="Footnote_20_211"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_211"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Who in his youth had often fed <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... hath ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_212" id="Footnote_21_212"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_212"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And lately hath brought home the scars</span><br /> +<span class="var">Gathered in long and distant wars— <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_213" id="Footnote_22_213"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_213"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... hath mounted ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_214" id="Footnote_23_214"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_214"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... when God's grace</span><br /> +<span class="var">At length had in her heart found place, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_215" id="Footnote_24_215"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_215"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Well may her thoughts be harsh; for she</span><br /> +<span class="var">Numbers among her ancestry <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_216" id="Footnote_25_216"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_216"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... Cumbria's ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_217" id="Footnote_26_217"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_217"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... humble ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_218" id="Footnote_27_218"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_218"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... through strong desire</span><br /> +<span class="var">Searching the earth with chemic fire: <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_219" id="Footnote_28_219"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_219"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> These two lines were added in the edition of 1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_220" id="Footnote_29_220"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_220"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">By busy dreams, and fancies wild; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_221" id="Footnote_30_221"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_221"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> 1840. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Thou hast breeze-like visitings;</span><br /> +<span class="var">For a Spirit with angel wings</span><br /> +<span class="var">Hath touched thee, ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A Spirit, with angelic wings,</span><br /> +<span class="var">In soft and breeze-like visitings,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Has touched thee— ... <span class="yearnum">1837.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A Spirit, with his angelic wings,<span class="yearnum"><span class="allcapsc">C.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_222" id="Footnote_31_222"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_222"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... —'twas She who wrought <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_223" id="Footnote_32_223"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_223"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... the ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_224" id="Footnote_33_224"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_224"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... one that did fulfil <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_225" id="Footnote_34_225"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_225"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... (such was the command) <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_226" id="Footnote_35_226"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_226"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">To be by force of arms renewed;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Glad prospect for the multitude! <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">To be triumphantly restored;</span><br /> +<span class="var">By the dread justice of the sword! <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_227" id="Footnote_36_227"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_227"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">This ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_228" id="Footnote_37_228"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_228"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... blissful ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_229" id="Footnote_38_229"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_229"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Loud noise was in the crowded hall, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_230" id="Footnote_39_230"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_230"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... which had a dying fall, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_231" id="Footnote_40_231"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_231"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And on ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_232" id="Footnote_41_232"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_232"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... wet ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_233" id="Footnote_42_233"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_233"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Then seized the staff, and thus did say: <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_234" id="Footnote_43_234"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_234"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">Forth when Sire and Sons appeared</span><br /> +<span class="var">A gratulating shout was reared,</span><br /> +<span class="var">With din ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_235" id="Footnote_44_235"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_235"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—A shout ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_236" id="Footnote_45_236"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_236"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And, when he waked at length, his eye <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_237" id="Footnote_46_237"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_237"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Oh! hide them from each other, hide,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Kind Heaven, this pair severely tried!</span> +</div></div><p> +Inserted in the editions of 1815 to 1832.<br /> +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_238" id="Footnote_47_238"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_238"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">How could he chuse but shrink or sigh?</span><br /> +<span class="var">He shrunk, and muttered inwardly,</span> +</div></div><p> +Inserted in the editions of 1815 to 1832. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_239" id="Footnote_48_239"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_239"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">He paused, her silence to partake,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And long it was before he spake:</span><br /> +<span class="var">Then, all at once, his thoughts turned round, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_240" id="Footnote_49_240"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_240"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... were beloved, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_241" id="Footnote_50_241"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_241"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> This line was added in 1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_242" id="Footnote_51_242"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_242"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Was He, ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_243" id="Footnote_52_243"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_243"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">I, in the right ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_244" id="Footnote_53_244"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_244"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... to stand against ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_245" id="Footnote_54_245"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_245"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Thee, chiefly thee, ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_246" id="Footnote_55_246"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_246"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The last leaf which by heaven's decree</span><br /> +<span class="var">Must hang upon a blasted tree; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_247" id="Footnote_56_247"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_247"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... we have breathed ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_248" id="Footnote_57_248"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_248"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... he pursued, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_249" id="Footnote_58_249"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_249"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Now joy for you and sudden chear,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Ye Watchmen upon Brancepeth Towers;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Looking forth in doubt and fear, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_250" id="Footnote_59_250"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_250"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Forthwith the armed Company <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_251" id="Footnote_60_251"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_251"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... hail ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_252" id="Footnote_61_252"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_252"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... the mildest birth, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_253" id="Footnote_62_253"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_253"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">With tumult and indignant rout</span> +</div></div><p> +Inserted in the editions of 1815 to 1832.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_254" id="Footnote_63_254"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_254"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Came Foot and Horse-men of each degree, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_255" id="Footnote_64_255"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_255"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And the Romish Priest, ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_256" id="Footnote_65_256"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_256"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">But none for undisputed worth <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_257" id="Footnote_66_257"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_257"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Like those eight Sons—embosoming</span><br /> +<span class="var">Determined thoughts—who, in a ring <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1837 returns to that of 1815. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_258" id="Footnote_67_258"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_258"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> This line was added in 1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_259" id="Footnote_68_259"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_259"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">In youthful beauty flourishing,</span> +</div></div><p> +Inserted in the editions of 1815 and 1820. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_260" id="Footnote_69_260"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_260"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—With feet that firmly pressed the ground</span><br /> +<span class="var">They stood, and girt their Father round;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Such was his choice,—no Steed will he <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_261" id="Footnote_70_261"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_261"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">He stood upon the verdant sod, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... grassy sod, <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_262" id="Footnote_71_262"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_262"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... higher ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_263" id="Footnote_72_263"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_263"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Rich ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_264" id="Footnote_73_264"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_264"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... —many see, ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_265" id="Footnote_74_265"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_265"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... these ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_266" id="Footnote_75_266"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_266"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... on ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_267" id="Footnote_76_267"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_267"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">He takes this day ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_268" id="Footnote_77_268"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_268"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Stretched out upon the ground he lies,—</span><br /> +<span class="var">As if it were his only task</span><br /> +<span class="var">Like Herdsman in the sun to bask, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_269" id="Footnote_78_269"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_269"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">That he ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_79_270" id="Footnote_79_270"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_270"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And Neville was opprest with fear;</span><br /> +<span class="var">For, though he bore a valiant name,</span><br /> +<span class="var">His heart was of a timid frame, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_80_271" id="Footnote_80_271"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_271"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And therefore will retreat to seize <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_81_272" id="Footnote_81_272"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_272"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... comes; ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_82_273" id="Footnote_82_273"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_273"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... giving ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_83_274" id="Footnote_83_274"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_274"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—How often hath the strength of heaven <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_84_275" id="Footnote_84_275"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_275"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var7hz">... on the sacred wain,</span><br /> +<span class="var">On which the grey-haired Barons stood,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And the infant Heir of Mowbray's blood.</span><br /> +<span class="var">Beneath the saintly Ensigns three,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Their confidence and victory! <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Stood confident of victory! <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_85_276" id="Footnote_85_276"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_276"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">When, as the Vision gave command,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The Prior of Durham with holy hand</span><br /> +<span class="var">Saint Cuthbert's Relic did uprear</span><br /> +<span class="var">Upon the point of a lofty spear,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And God descended in his power,</span><br /> +<span class="var">While the Monks prayed in Maiden's Bower. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_86_277" id="Footnote_86_277"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_277"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var13">... and uphold."—</span><br /> +<span class="var">—The Chiefs were by his zeal confounded, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_87_278" id="Footnote_87_278"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_278"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... raised so joyfully, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_88_279" id="Footnote_88_279"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_279"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> This line was added in 1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_89_280" id="Footnote_89_280"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_280"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... frail ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_90_281" id="Footnote_90_281"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_281"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—So speaking, he upraised his head</span><br /> +<span class="var">Towards that Imagery once more; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_91_282" id="Footnote_91_282"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_282"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Blank fear, ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_92_283" id="Footnote_92_283"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_283"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">She did in passiveness obey, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_93_284" id="Footnote_93_284"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_284"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Her Brother was it who assailed</span><br /> +<span class="var">Her tender spirit and prevailed.</span><br /> +<span class="var">Her other Parent, too, whose head <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_94_285" id="Footnote_94_285"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94_285"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">From reason's earliest dawn beguiled</span><br /> +<span class="var">The docile, unsuspecting Child: <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_95_286" id="Footnote_95_286"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95_286"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var11h">... music sweet</span><br /> +<span class="var">Was played to chear them in retreat;</span><br /> +<span class="var">But Norton lingered in the rear:</span><br /> +<span class="var">Thought followed thought—and ere the last</span><br /> +<span class="var">Of that unhappy train was past,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Before him Francis did appear. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_96_287" id="Footnote_96_287"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96_287"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">"Now when 'tis not your aim to oppose,"</span><br /> +<span class="var">Said he, "in open field your Foes;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Now that from this decisive day</span><br /> +<span class="var">Your multitude must melt away,</span><br /> +<span class="var">An unarmed Man may come unblamed;</span><br /> +<span class="var">To ask a grace, that was not claimed</span><br /> +<span class="var">Long as your hopes were high, he now</span><br /> +<span class="var">May hither bring a fearless brow;</span><br /> +<span class="var">When his discountenance can do</span><br /> +<span class="var">No injury,—may come to you.</span><br /> +<span class="var">Though in your cause no part I bear,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Your indignation I can share;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Am grieved this backward march to see,</span><br /> +<span class="var">How careless and disorderly!</span><br /> +<span class="var">I scorn your Chieftains, Men who lead,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And yet want courage at their need;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Then look at them with open eyes!</span><br /> +<span class="var">Deserve they further sacrifice?</span><br /> +<span class="var">My Father!..." <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_97_288" id="Footnote_97_288"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97_288"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... remains ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_98_289" id="Footnote_98_289"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98_289"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">At length, the issue of this prayer?</span><br /> +<span class="var">Or how, from his depression raised,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The Father on his Son had gazed; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_99_290" id="Footnote_99_290"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99_290"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Suffice it that the Son gave way,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Nor strove that passion to allay, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_100_291" id="Footnote_100_291"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100_291"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The like endeavours <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_101_292" id="Footnote_101_292"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101_292"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">From cloudless ether looking down,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The Moon, this tranquil evening, sees <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_102_293" id="Footnote_102_293"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102_293"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... with moors between,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Hill-tops, and floods, and forests green, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_103_294" id="Footnote_103_294"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103_294"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The silver smoke, and mounts in wreaths. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_104_295" id="Footnote_104_295"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104_295"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Had ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_105_296" id="Footnote_105_296"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105_296"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The same fair Creature which was nigh</span><br /> +<span class="var">Feeding in tranquillity,</span><br /> +<span class="var">When Francis uttered to the Maid <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... who was nigh <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_106_297" id="Footnote_106_297"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106_297"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> Lines 40-43 were added in 1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_107_298" id="Footnote_107_298"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107_298"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> 1836. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">But where at this still hour is she,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The consecrated Emily?</span><br /> +<span class="var">Even while I speak, behold the Maid</span><br /> +<span class="var">Emerging from the cedar shade <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_108_299" id="Footnote_108_299"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108_299"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> In the editions of 1815 to 1832, the paragraph ends with this +line. The remaining nine lines in these editions are added to the +following paragraph.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_109_300" id="Footnote_109_300"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109_300"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">Yet the meek Creature was not free,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Erewhile, from some perplexity:</span><br /> +<span class="var">For thrice hath she approached, this day,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The thought-bewildered Emily;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Endeavouring, in her gentle way,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Some smile or look of love to gain,—</span><br /> +<span class="var">Encouragement to sport or play;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Attempts which by the unhappy Maid</span><br /> +<span class="var">Have all been slighted or gainsaid. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_110_301" id="Footnote_110_301"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110_301"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—O welcome to the viewless breeze!</span><br /> +<span class="var">'Tis fraught with acceptable feeling,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And instantaneous sympathies</span><br /> +<span class="var">Into the Sufferer's bosom stealing;—</span><br /> +<span class="var">Ere she hath reached yon rustic Shed <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Yet is she soothed: the viewless breeze</span><br /> +<span class="var">Comes fraught with kindlier sympathies:</span><br /> +<span class="var">Ere she hath reached yon rustic Shed <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Ere she had reached ... <span class="yearnum">1832.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_111_302" id="Footnote_111_302"></a><a href="#FNanchor_111_302"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Revives ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_112_303" id="Footnote_112_303"></a><a href="#FNanchor_112_303"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... —'tis that bless'd Saint <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_113_304" id="Footnote_113_304"></a><a href="#FNanchor_113_304"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Thou Spirit ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_114_305" id="Footnote_114_305"></a><a href="#FNanchor_114_305"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Descend on Francis:—through the air</span><br /> +<span class="var">Of this sad earth to him repair,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Speak to him with a voice, and say,</span><br /> +<span class="var">"That he must cast despair away!" <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_115_306" id="Footnote_115_306"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_115_306"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> +<i>Italics</i> and capitals were first used in the edition of 1820. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_116_307" id="Footnote_116_307"></a><a href="#FNanchor_116_307"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—She knows, she feels it, and is cheared;</span><br /> +<span class="var">At least her present pangs are checked. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_117_308" id="Footnote_117_308"></a><a href="#FNanchor_117_308"><span class="label">[117]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—And now an ancient Man appeared,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Approaching her with grave respect.</span><br /> +<span class="var">Down the smooth walk which then she trod</span><br /> +<span class="var">He paced along the silent sod,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And greeting her thus gently spake, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—But now ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_118_309" id="Footnote_118_309"></a><a href="#FNanchor_118_309"><span class="label">[118]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">In friendship;—go—from him—from me—</span><br /> +<span class="var">Strive to avert this misery. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_119_310" id="Footnote_119_310"></a><a href="#FNanchor_119_310"><span class="label">[119]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">—If prudence offer help or aid,</span><br /> +<span class="var">On <i>you</i> is no restriction laid; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_120_311" id="Footnote_120_311"></a><a href="#FNanchor_120_311"><span class="label">[120]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">"Hope," said the Sufferer's zealous Friend,</span><br /> +<span class="var">"Must not forsake us till the end.— <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_121_312" id="Footnote_121_312"></a><a href="#FNanchor_121_312"><span class="label">[121]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... may have the skill ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_122_313" id="Footnote_122_313"></a><a href="#FNanchor_122_313"><span class="label">[122]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Their flight the fair Moon may not see;</span><br /> +<span class="var">For, from mid-heaven, already she <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_123_314" id="Footnote_123_314"></a><a href="#FNanchor_123_314"><span class="label">[123]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... haughty ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_124_315" id="Footnote_124_315"></a><a href="#FNanchor_124_315"><span class="label">[124]</span></a> <i>Italics</i> were first used in 1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_125_316" id="Footnote_125_316"></a><a href="#FNanchor_125_316"><span class="label">[125]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... to the cause. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_126_317" id="Footnote_126_317"></a><a href="#FNanchor_126_317"><span class="label">[126]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">They shout aloud—but Heaven decreed</span><br /> +<span class="var8">Another close</span><br /> +<span class="var8">To that brave deed</span><br /> +<span class="var">Which struck ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_127_318" id="Footnote_127_318"></a><a href="#FNanchor_127_318"><span class="label">[127]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... spreads ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_128_319" id="Footnote_128_319"></a><a href="#FNanchor_128_319"><span class="label">[128]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... and as seldom free <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_129_320" id="Footnote_129_320"></a><a href="#FNanchor_129_320"><span class="label">[129]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And from the heat of the noon-tide sun, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_130_321" id="Footnote_130_321"></a><a href="#FNanchor_130_321"><span class="label">[130]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">They to the Watch-tower did repair,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Commodious Pleasure-house! and there <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_131_322" id="Footnote_131_322"></a><a href="#FNanchor_131_322"><span class="label">[131]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">He was the proudest ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_132_323" id="Footnote_132_323"></a><a href="#FNanchor_132_323"><span class="label">[132]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Dead are they, they were doomed to die;</span><br /> +<span class="var">The Sons and Father all are dead,</span><br /> +<span class="var">All dead save One; and Emily</span><br /> +<span class="var">No more shall seek this Watch-tower high,</span><br /> +<span class="var">To look far forth with anxious eye,—</span><br /> +<span class="var">She is relieved from hope and dread,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Though suffering in extremity.</span> +</div></div><p> +Inserted only in the edition of 1815. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_133_324" id="Footnote_133_324"></a><a href="#FNanchor_133_324"><span class="label">[133]</span></a> <i>Italics</i> were first used in 1820.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_134_325" id="Footnote_134_325"></a><a href="#FNanchor_134_325"><span class="label">[134]</span></a> 1837. In the editions of 1815-32 the following passage took +the place of this line:— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">She turned to him, who with his eye</span><br /> +<span class="var">Was watching her while on the height</span><br /> +<span class="var">She sate, or wandered restlessly,</span><br /> +<span class="var">O'erburdened by her sorrow's weight;</span><br /> +<span class="var">To him who this dire news had told,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And now beside the Mourner stood;</span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_135_326" id="Footnote_135_326"></a><a href="#FNanchor_135_326"><span class="label">[135]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Then on this place the Maid had sought:</span><br /> +<span class="var">And told, as gently as could be,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The end of that sad Tragedy, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_136_327" id="Footnote_136_327"></a><a href="#FNanchor_136_327"><span class="label">[136]</span></a> These two lines were added in 1827.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_137_328" id="Footnote_137_328"></a><a href="#FNanchor_137_328"><span class="label">[137]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... the people cried, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_138_329" id="Footnote_138_329"></a><a href="#FNanchor_138_329"><span class="label">[138]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">For sake of ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_139_330" id="Footnote_139_330"></a><a href="#FNanchor_139_330"><span class="label">[139]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">He rose not in this quarrel, he</span><br /> +<span class="var">His Father and his Brothers wooed,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Both for their own and Country's good,</span><br /> +<span class="var">To rest in peace—he did divide, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_140_331" id="Footnote_140_331"></a><a href="#FNanchor_140_331"><span class="label">[140]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">To scatter gleams ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_141_332" id="Footnote_141_332"></a><a href="#FNanchor_141_332"><span class="label">[141]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var7h">... of ancient love,</span><br /> +<span class="var">But most, compassion for your fate,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Lady! for your forlorn estate,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Me did these move, and I made bold,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And entrance gained to that strong-hold. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var7h">... of ancient love;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And, in your service, I made bold—</span><br /> +<span class="var">And entrance gained to that strong-hold. <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_142_333" id="Footnote_142_333"></a><a href="#FNanchor_142_333"><span class="label">[142]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var6h">... 'We need not stop, my Son!</span><br /> +<span class="var">But I will end what is begun;</span><br /> +<span class="var">'Tis matter which I do not fear</span><br /> +<span class="var">To entrust to any living ear.' <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_143_334" id="Footnote_143_334"></a><a href="#FNanchor_143_334"><span class="label">[143]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Had seen ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_144_335" id="Footnote_144_335"></a><a href="#FNanchor_144_335"><span class="label">[144]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Glad ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_145_336" id="Footnote_145_336"></a><a href="#FNanchor_145_336"><span class="label">[145]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... be not <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_146_337" id="Footnote_146_337"></a><a href="#FNanchor_146_337"><span class="label">[146]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... beauteous <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_147_338" id="Footnote_147_338"></a><a href="#FNanchor_147_338"><span class="label">[147]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">Then Francis answered fervently,</span><br /> +<span class="var">"If God so will, the same shall be." <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_148_339" id="Footnote_148_339"></a><a href="#FNanchor_148_339"><span class="label">[148]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Immediately, this solemn word <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_149_340" id="Footnote_149_340"></a><a href="#FNanchor_149_340"><span class="label">[149]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... had reached the door,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The Banner which a Soldier bore,</span><br /> +<span class="var">One marshalled thus with base intent</span><br /> +<span class="var">That he in scorn might go before,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And, holding up this monument, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_150_341" id="Footnote_150_341"></a><a href="#FNanchor_150_341"><span class="label">[150]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... that were round <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_151_342" id="Footnote_151_342"></a><a href="#FNanchor_151_342"><span class="label">[151]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">This insult, and the Banner saved,</span><br /> +<span class="var">That moment, from among the tide <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_152_343" id="Footnote_152_343"></a><a href="#FNanchor_152_343"><span class="label">[152]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Bore unobserved ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_153_344" id="Footnote_153_344"></a><a href="#FNanchor_153_344"><span class="label">[153]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... to encourage ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_154_345" id="Footnote_154_345"></a><a href="#FNanchor_154_345"><span class="label">[154]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">"Yet, yet in this affliction," said</span><br /> +<span class="var">The old Man to the silent Maid,</span><br /> +<span class="var">"Yet, Lady! heaven is good—the night</span><br /> +<span class="var">Shews yet a Star which is most bright; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_155_346" id="Footnote_155_346"></a><a href="#FNanchor_155_346"><span class="label">[155]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Why comes not Francis?—Joyful chear</span><br /> +<span class="var">In that parental gratulation,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And glow of righteous indignation,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Went with him from the doleful City:—</span><br /> +<span class="var">He fled—yet in his flight could hear</span><br /> +<span class="var">The death-sound of the Minster-bell; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_156_347" id="Footnote_156_347"></a><a href="#FNanchor_156_347"><span class="label">[156]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">With motion fleet as winged Dove; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... as a wingèd Dove; <span class="yearnum">1832.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_157_348" id="Footnote_157_348"></a><a href="#FNanchor_157_348"><span class="label">[157]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">An Angel-guest, should he appear. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_158_349" id="Footnote_158_349"></a><a href="#FNanchor_158_349"><span class="label">[158]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Along the plain of York he passed;</span><br /> +<span class="var">The Banner-staff was in his hand,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The Imagery concealed from sight,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And cross the expanse, in open flight,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Reckless of what impels or leads,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Unchecked he hurries on;—nor heeds</span><br /> +<span class="var">The sorrow of the Villages;</span><br /> +<span class="var">From the triumphant cruelties <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Spread by triumphant cruelties <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The sorrow through the Villages, <span class="yearnum">1832.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_159_350" id="Footnote_159_350"></a><a href="#FNanchor_159_350"><span class="label">[159]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And punishment without remorse,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Unchecked he journies—under law</span><br /> +<span class="var">Of inward occupation strong;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And the first ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_160_351" id="Footnote_160_351"></a><a href="#FNanchor_160_351"><span class="label">[160]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var9h">... did he maintain</span><br /> +<span class="var">Within himself, and found no rest;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Calm liberty he could not gain;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And yet the service was unblest. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_161_352" id="Footnote_161_352"></a><a href="#FNanchor_161_352"><span class="label">[161]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Raised self-suspicion which was strong,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Swaying the brave Man to his wrong: <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_162_353" id="Footnote_162_353"></a><a href="#FNanchor_162_353"><span class="label">[162]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Of all-disposing Providence,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Its will intelligibly shewn,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Finds he the Banner in his hand,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Without a thought to such intent,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Or conscious effort of his own?</span><br /> +<span class="var">And no obstruction to prevent</span><br /> +<span class="var">His Father's wish and last command!</span><br /> +<span class="var">And, thus beset, he heaved a sigh;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Remembering his own prophecy</span><br /> +<span class="var">Of utter desolation, made</span><br /> +<span class="var">To Emily in the yew-tree shade:</span><br /> +<span class="var">He sighed, submitting to the power,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The might of that prophetic hour. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_163_354" id="Footnote_163_354"></a><a href="#FNanchor_163_354"><span class="label">[163]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var6">... and, on the second day,</span><br /> +<span class="var">He reached a summit whence his eyes <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_164_355" id="Footnote_164_355"></a><a href="#FNanchor_164_355"><span class="label">[164]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">How Francis had the Banner claimed,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And with that charge had disappeared; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_165_356" id="Footnote_165_356"></a><a href="#FNanchor_165_356"><span class="label">[165]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Behold the Ensign in his hand! <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_166_357" id="Footnote_166_357"></a><a href="#FNanchor_166_357"><span class="label">[166]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... freight I bear;</span><br /> +<span class="var">It weakens me, my heart hath bled</span><br /> +<span class="var">Till it is weak—but you beware,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Nor do ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_167_358" id="Footnote_167_358"></a><a href="#FNanchor_167_358"><span class="label">[167]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Which ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_168_359" id="Footnote_168_359"></a><a href="#FNanchor_168_359"><span class="label">[168]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... with a Warrior's brow <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_169_360" id="Footnote_169_360"></a><a href="#FNanchor_169_360"><span class="label">[169]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... had snatched</span><br /> +<span class="var">A spear,—and with his eyes he watched</span><br /> +<span class="var">Their motions, turning round and round:—</span><br /> +<span class="var">His weaker hand the Banner held;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And straight by savage zeal impelled</span><br /> +<span class="var">Forth rushed a Pikeman, as if he,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Not without harsh indignity,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Would seize the same:—instinctively—</span><br /> +<span class="var">To smite the Offender—with his lance</span><br /> +<span class="var">Did Francis from the brake advance;</span><br /> +<span class="var">But, from behind, a treacherous wound</span><br /> +<span class="var">Unfeeling, brought him to the ground,</span><br /> +<span class="var">A mortal stroke:—oh, grief to tell!</span><br /> +<span class="var">Thus, thus, the noble Francis fell:</span><br /> +<span class="var">There did he lie of breath forsaken;</span><br /> +<span class="var">The Banner from his grasp was taken,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And borne exultingly away;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And the Body was left on the ground where it lay. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">But not before the warm life-blood</span><br /> +<span class="var">Had tinged with searching overflow,</span><br /> +<span class="var">More deeply tinged the embroidered show</span><br /> +<span class="var">Of His whose side was pierced upon the Rood! <span class="yearnum">1837.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1837 is otherwise identical with the final version of +1845.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_170_361" id="Footnote_170_361"></a><a href="#FNanchor_170_361"><span class="label">[170]</span></a> These two lines were added in 1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_171_362" id="Footnote_171_362"></a><a href="#FNanchor_171_362"><span class="label">[171]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var4">Two days, as many nights, he slept</span><br /> +<span class="var">Alone, unnoticed, and unwept;</span><br /> +<span class="var">For at that time distress and fear</span><br /> +<span class="var">Possessed the Country far and near;</span><br /> +<span class="var">The third day, One, who chanced to pass,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Beheld him stretched upon the grass.</span><br /> +<span class="var">A gentle Forester was he,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And of the Norton Tenantry;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And he had heard that by a Train</span><br /> +<span class="var">Of Horsemen Francis had been slain.</span><br /> +<span class="var">Much was he troubled—for the Man</span><br /> +<span class="var">Hath recognized his pallid face;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And to the nearest Huts he ran,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And called the People to the place.</span><br /> +<span class="var">—How desolate is Rylstone-hall!</span><br /> +<span class="var">Such was the instant thought of all;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And if the lonely Lady there</span><br /> +<span class="var">Should be, this sight she cannot bear!</span><br /> +<span class="var">Such thought the Forester express'd,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And all were swayed, and deemed it best</span><br /> +<span class="var">That, if the Priest should yield assent</span><br /> +<span class="var">And join himself to their intent, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_172_363" id="Footnote_172_363"></a><a href="#FNanchor_172_363"><span class="label">[172]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">That straightway ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_173_364" id="Footnote_173_364"></a><a href="#FNanchor_173_364"><span class="label">[173]</span></a> 1840. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... on a bier</span><br /> +<span class="var">In decency and humble chear;</span><br /> +<span class="var">And psalms are sung with holy sound. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And psalms they sung—a holy sound</span><br /> +<span class="var">That hill and vale with sadness hear. <span class="yearnum">1837.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_174_365" id="Footnote_174_365"></a><a href="#FNanchor_174_365"><span class="label">[174]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Tow'rds ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_175_366" id="Footnote_175_366"></a><a href="#FNanchor_175_366"><span class="label">[175]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... deep ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_176_367" id="Footnote_176_367"></a><a href="#FNanchor_176_367"><span class="label">[176]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... calm ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_177_368" id="Footnote_177_368"></a><a href="#FNanchor_177_368"><span class="label">[177]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">The walks and pools neglect hath sown <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_178_369" id="Footnote_178_369"></a><a href="#FNanchor_178_369"><span class="label">[178]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">There is ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_179_370" id="Footnote_179_370"></a><a href="#FNanchor_179_370"><span class="label">[179]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">There seated, may this Maid be seen,</span> +</div></div><p> +Inserted in the editions of 1815-1832. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_180_371" id="Footnote_180_371"></a><a href="#FNanchor_180_371"><span class="label">[180]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... has ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_181_372" id="Footnote_181_372"></a><a href="#FNanchor_181_372"><span class="label">[181]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">For, of that band of rushing Deer, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_182_373" id="Footnote_182_373"></a><a href="#FNanchor_182_373"><span class="label">[182]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... its ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... his ... <span class="yearnum">1832.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_183_374" id="Footnote_183_374"></a><a href="#FNanchor_183_374"><span class="label">[183]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var10h">... and more near,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Stopped once again;—but, as no trace</span><br /> +<span class="var">Was found of any thing to fear,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Even to her feet the Creature came, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_184_375" id="Footnote_184_375"></a><a href="#FNanchor_184_375"><span class="label">[184]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... choicest ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_185_376" id="Footnote_185_376"></a><a href="#FNanchor_185_376"><span class="label">[185]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">For both a bounteous, fruitful meeting. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_186_377" id="Footnote_186_377"></a><a href="#FNanchor_186_377"><span class="label">[186]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And take this gift of Heaven with grace? <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_187_378" id="Footnote_187_378"></a><a href="#FNanchor_187_378"><span class="label">[187]</span></a> This line was added in 1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_188_379" id="Footnote_188_379"></a><a href="#FNanchor_188_379"><span class="label">[188]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... this ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_189_380" id="Footnote_189_380"></a><a href="#FNanchor_189_380"><span class="label">[189]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... was there ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_190_381" id="Footnote_190_381"></a><a href="#FNanchor_190_381"><span class="label">[190]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Did she behold—saw once again; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_191_382" id="Footnote_191_382"></a><a href="#FNanchor_191_382"><span class="label">[191]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">So doth the Sufferer deem it good</span><br /> +<span class="var">Even once again this neighbourhood <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_192_383" id="Footnote_192_383"></a><a href="#FNanchor_192_383"><span class="label">[192]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... writhed <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_193_384" id="Footnote_193_384"></a><a href="#FNanchor_193_384"><span class="label">[193]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... kindly ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_194_385" id="Footnote_194_385"></a><a href="#FNanchor_194_385"><span class="label">[194]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... as the whitest ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_195_386" id="Footnote_195_386"></a><a href="#FNanchor_195_386"><span class="label">[195]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... through an ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1837 returns to that of 1815. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_196_387" id="Footnote_196_387"></a><a href="#FNanchor_196_387"><span class="label">[196]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Did now a very gladness yield</span><br /> +<span class="var">At morning to the dewy field,</span><br /> +<span class="var">While they side by side were straying,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And the Shepherd's pipe was playing; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_197_388" id="Footnote_197_388"></a><a href="#FNanchor_197_388"><span class="label">[197]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... wandering ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_198_389" id="Footnote_198_389"></a><a href="#FNanchor_198_389"><span class="label">[198]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Mild, delicious melancholy: <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_199_390" id="Footnote_199_390"></a><a href="#FNanchor_199_390"><span class="label">[199]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Up doth she climb to Norton Tower,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And thence looks round her far and wide.</span><br /> +<span class="var">Her fate there measures,—all is stilled,—</span><br /> +<span class="var">The feeble hath subdued her heart; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_200_391" id="Footnote_200_391"></a><a href="#FNanchor_200_391"><span class="label">[200]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">This single Creature ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_201_392" id="Footnote_201_392"></a><a href="#FNanchor_201_392"><span class="label">[201]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">So beautiful the spotless Thrall,</span><br /> +<span class="var">(A lovely Youngling white as foam,)</span><br /> +<span class="var">That it was brought to Rylstone-hall;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Her youngest Brother led it home,</span><br /> +<span class="var">The youngest, then a lusty Boy,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Brought home the prize—and with what joy! <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_202_393" id="Footnote_202_393"></a><a href="#FNanchor_202_393"><span class="label">[202]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Nor did she fear in the still moonshine <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... in still moonshine <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_203_394" id="Footnote_203_394"></a><a href="#FNanchor_203_394"><span class="label">[203]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">For that she came; there oft and long</span><br /> +<span class="var">She sate in meditation strong: <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_204_395" id="Footnote_204_395"></a><a href="#FNanchor_204_395"><span class="label">[204]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... her ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_205_396" id="Footnote_205_396"></a><a href="#FNanchor_205_396"><span class="label">[205]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">That ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_206_397" id="Footnote_206_397"></a><a href="#FNanchor_206_397"><span class="label">[206]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... we frame, ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_398" id="Footnote_A_398"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_398"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> This is the final form of the "Advertisement" to <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White +Doe of Rylstone</i></a>. The variations from it, which occur in earlier +editions, from 1815 onwards, need not be noted. The poem was placed in +the 1820 edition in volume iii., in 1827 in volume iv., in 1832 in +volume iii., and in 1836-37 and afterwards in volume iv. of the +Collected Works.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_399" id="Footnote_B_399"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_399"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> <i>I.e.</i>, in the small bower in the +orchard of Dove Cottage, Grasmere.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_400" id="Footnote_C_400"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_400"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Compare <i>The Faërie Queene</i>, book <span class="allcapsc">I.</span> canto i. stanza iv. l. 9— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And by her, in a line, a milkewhite lambe she lad.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_401" id="Footnote_D_401"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_401"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> See <i>The Faërie Queene</i>, book <span class="allcapsc">I.</span> canto viii. stanza xliv. l. 9— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That blisse may not abide in state of mortall men.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_402" id="Footnote_E_402"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_402"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> The above extract, which, in 1837 and subsequent editions, +follows the Dedication of the poem to Mrs. Wordsworth, is taken from the +tragedy of <i>The Borderers</i>, act <span class="allcapsc">III.</span> line 405 (vol. i. p. 187). In the +prefatory note to <i>The Borderers</i>—published in 1842—Wordsworth says he +would not have made use of these lines in <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a> if +he could have foreseen the time when he would be induced to publish the +tragedy. It is signed M. S. in the 1837-43 editions. +</p><p> +In a note to the edition of 1837, he says, "'Action is transitory,' etc. +This and the five lines that follow were either read or recited by me, +more than thirty years since, to the late Mr. Hazlitt, who quoted some +expressions in them (imperfectly remembered) in a work of his published +several years ago." +</p><p> +In the quarto edition of 1815 the following lines precede the extract +from Lord Bacon; and in the edition of 1820 they follow it. In 1827 they +were transferred to the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>"Weak is the will of Man, his judgement blind;</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Remembrance persecutes, and Hope betrays;</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Heavy is woe;—and joy, for human kind,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>A mournful thing, so transient is the blaze!"—</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Thus might he paint our lot of mortal days</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Who wants the glorious faculty, assigned</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>To elevate the more-than-reasoning Mind,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>And colour life's dark cloud with orient rays.</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Imagination is that sacred power,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Imagination lofty and refined:</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>'Tis her's to pluck the amaranthine Flower</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Of Faith, and round the Sufferer's temples bind</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower,</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.</i><span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_403" id="Footnote_F_403"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_403"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> See his <i>Essays</i>, XVI., "Of Atheism." Wordsworth's +quotation is not quite accurate.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_404" id="Footnote_G_404"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_404"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> It is to be regretted that at the present day Bolton Abbey +wants this ornament: but the Poem, according to the imagination of the +Poet, is composed in Queen Elizabeth's time. "Formerly," says Dr. +Whitaker, "over the Transept was a tower. This is proved not only from +the mention of bells at the Dissolution, when they could have had no +other place, but from the pointed roof of the choir, which must have +terminated westward, in some building of superior height to the +ridge."—W. W. 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_405" id="Footnote_H_405"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_405"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> See note I. at the end of the poem, <a href="#Page_196">p. 196</a>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_406" id="Footnote_I_406"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_406"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> See note I. at the end of the poem, <a href="#Page_196">p. 196</a>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_J_407" id="Footnote_J_407"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_407"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> The Nave of the Church having been reserved at the +Dissolution, for the use of the Saxon Cure, is still a parochial Chapel; +and, at this day, is as well kept as the neatest English Cathedral.—W. W. 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_K_408" id="Footnote_K_408"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_408"><span class="label">[K]</span></a> "At a small distance from the great gateway stood the +Prior's Oak, which was felled about the year 1720, and sold for 70<i>l.</i> +According to the price of wood at that time, it could scarcely +have contained less than 1400 feet of timber."—W. W. 1815. +</p><p> +This note is quoted from Whitaker.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span> +</p><p> +The place where this Oak tree grew is uncertain. Whitaker says it stood +"at a small distance from the great gateway." This old entrance or +gateway to the Abbey was through a part of the modern and now inhabited +structure of Bolton Hall, under the Tower; and the old sexton at the +Abbey told me that the tree stood near that gateway, at some distance +from the ruins of the Abbey.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_L_409" id="Footnote_L_409"></a><a href="#FNanchor_L_409"><span class="label">[L]</span></a> Of Wharfedale at Bolton, Henry Crabb Robinson says, in his +<i>Diary</i> (September 1818), "This valley has been very little adorned, and +it needs no other accident to grace it than sunshine."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_M_410" id="Footnote_M_410"></a><a href="#FNanchor_M_410"><span class="label">[M]</span></a> Compare the lines in the sonnet <i>At Furness Abbey</i> +(composed in 1844)— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A soothing spirit follows in the way</span><br /> +<span class="i0">That Nature takes, her counter-work pursuing.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_N_411" id="Footnote_N_411"></a><a href="#FNanchor_N_411"><span class="label">[N]</span></a> Roses still grow plentifully among the ruins, although they +are not abundant in the district.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_O_412" id="Footnote_O_412"></a><a href="#FNanchor_O_412"><span class="label">[O]</span></a> This is not topographical. No "warrior carved in stone" is +now to be seen among the ruins of Bolton Abbey, whatever may have been +the case in 1807; nor can Francis Norton's grave be discovered in the +Abbey grounds.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_P_413" id="Footnote_P_413"></a><a href="#FNanchor_P_413"><span class="label">[P]</span></a> The detail of this tradition may be found in Dr. Whitaker's +book, and in the Poem, <a href="#THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA"><i>The Force of Prayer</i></a>, etc. [<a href="#THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA">p. 204</a>].—W. W. +1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_Q_414" id="Footnote_Q_414"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Q_414"><span class="label">[Q]</span></a> Compare <i>The Boy of Egremond</i>, by Samuel Rogers.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_R_415" id="Footnote_R_415"></a><a href="#FNanchor_R_415"><span class="label">[R]</span></a> "At the East end of the North aisle of Bolton Priory Church +is a chantry belonging to Bethmesly Hall, and a vault, where, according +to tradition, the Claphams" (who inherited this estate, by the female +line from the Mauliverers) "were interred upright." John de Clapham, of +whom this ferocious act is recorded, was a name of great note in his +time; "he was a vehement partisan of the House of Lancaster, in whom the +spirit of his chieftains, the Cliffords, seemed to survive."—W. W. +1815. +</p><p> +This quotation is from Dr. Whitaker's <i>History of the Deanery of +Craven</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_S_416" id="Footnote_S_416"></a><a href="#FNanchor_S_416"><span class="label">[S]</span></a> In 1868, when this chapel was under restoration, a vault +was discovered at the eastern end of the north aisle, with evident signs +of several bodies having been buried upright. On the site of this vault +the organ is now placed. The chapel was restored by the late Duke of +Devonshire.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_T_417" id="Footnote_T_417"></a><a href="#FNanchor_T_417"><span class="label">[T]</span></a> In the second volume of Poems published by the author, will +be found one, entitled, <i>Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle, upon the +Restoration of Lord Clifford, the Shepherd, to the Estates and Honours +of his Ancestors</i>. To that Poem is annexed an account of this personage +[p. 89], chiefly extracted from Burn's and Nicholson's History of +Cumberland and Westmoreland. It gives me pleasure to add these further +particulars concerning him from Dr. Whitaker, who says, "he retired to +the solitude of Barden, where he seems to have enlarged the tower out of +a common keeper's lodge, and where he found a retreat equally favourable +to taste, to instruction, and to devotion. The narrow limits of his +residence shew that he had learned to despise the pomp of greatness, and +that a small train of servants could suffice him, who had lived to the +age of thirty a servant himself. I think this nobleman resided here +almost entirely when in Yorkshire, for all his charters which I have +seen are dated at Barden. +</p><p> +"His early habits, and the want of those artificial measures of time +which even shepherds now possess, had given him a turn for observing the +motions of the heavenly bodies, and, having purchased such an apparatus +as could then be procured, he amused and informed himself by those +pursuits, with the aid of the Canons of Bolton, some of whom are said to +have been well versed in what was then known of the science. +</p><p> +"I suspect this nobleman to have been sometimes occupied in a more +visionary pursuit, and probably in the same company. +</p><p> +"For, from the family evidences, I have met with two MSS. on the subject +of Alchemy, which, from the character, spelling, etc., may almost +certainly be referred to the reign of Henry the Seventh. If these were +originally deposited with the MSS. of the Cliffords, it might have been +for the use of this nobleman. If they were brought from Bolton at the +Dissolution, they must have been the work of those Canons whom he almost +exclusively conversed with. +</p><p> +"In these peaceful employments Lord Clifford spent the whole reign of +Henry the Seventh, and the first years of his son. But in the year 1513, +when almost sixty years old, he was appointed to a principal command +over the army which fought at Flodden, and shewed that the military +genius of the family had neither been chilled in him by age, nor +extinguished by habits of peace. +</p><p> +"He survived the battle of Flodden ten years, and died April 23d, 1523, +aged about 70. I shall endeavour to appropriate to him a tomb, vault, +and chantry, in the choir of the church of Bolton, as I should be sorry +to believe that he was deposited when dead at a distance from the place +which in his life-time he loved so well. +</p><p> +"By his last will he appointed his body to be interred at Shap if he +died in Westmoreland; or at Bolton if he died in Yorkshire." +</p><p> +With respect to the Canons of Bolton, Dr. Whitaker shews from MSS. that +not only alchemy but astronomy was a favourite pursuit with them.—W. W. +1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_U_418" id="Footnote_U_418"></a><a href="#FNanchor_U_418"><span class="label">[U]</span></a> Barden Tower is on the western bank of the Wharfe, fully +two miles north-west of Bolton Priory, above the Strid. At the time of +the restoration of the Shepherd-lord, Barden Tower was only a keeper's +forest lodge. It is so hidden in trees, and so retired, that the +situation is most accurately described as +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">the shy recess</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of Barden's lowly quietness.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_V_419" id="Footnote_V_419"></a><a href="#FNanchor_V_419"><span class="label">[V]</span></a> The year 1569.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_W_420" id="Footnote_W_420"></a><a href="#FNanchor_W_420"><span class="label">[W]</span></a> Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and Neville, Earl of +Westmoreland—the two peers who joined in support of the Duke of +Norfolk's marriage with Queen Mary, with a view to the restoration of +Catholicism in England. See note III. <a href="#Page_198">p. 198</a>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_X_421" id="Footnote_X_421"></a><a href="#FNanchor_X_421"><span class="label">[X]</span></a> Compare <i>Twelfth Night</i>, act <span class="allcapsc">I.</span> scene i. l. 4— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That strain again! it had a dying fall.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_Y_422" id="Footnote_Y_422"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Y_422"><span class="label">[Y]</span></a> See the Old Ballad,—<i>The Rising of the North</i>.—W. W. +1827. +</p><p> +This Ballad is printed in Wordsworth's note, <a href="#Page_186">p. 186</a>. The reference here +is to the lines— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But, father, I will wend with you,</span><br /> +<span class="i1">Unarm'd and naked will I bee.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_Z_423" id="Footnote_Z_423"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Z_423"><span class="label">[Z]</span></a> The site of Rylstone Hall is still recognisable, but the +building is gone. It was not at Rylstone, but at Ripon, that the Nortons +raised their banner in November 1569; but their tenantry at Rylstone +rose with them at the same time.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AA_424" id="Footnote_AA_424"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AA_424"><span class="label">[AA]</span></a> Brancepeth Castle stands near the river Were, a few miles +from the city of Durham. It formerly belonged to the Nevilles, Earls of +Westmoreland. See Dr. Percy's account.—W. W. 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BB_425" id="Footnote_BB_425"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BB_425"><span class="label">[BB]</span></a> The tower of the Cathedral of Durham, of which St. +Cuthbert is the patron saint.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_CC_426" id="Footnote_CC_426"></a><a href="#FNanchor_CC_426"><span class="label">[CC]</span></a> Now Raby Castle, a seat of the Duke of Cleveland in the +county of Durham.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_DD_427" id="Footnote_DD_427"></a><a href="#FNanchor_DD_427"><span class="label">[DD]</span></a> From the old Ballad.—W. W. 1820. +</p><p> +The lines are— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At Wetherbye they mustered their host,</span><br /> +<span class="i1">Thirteen thousand fair to see.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_EE_428" id="Footnote_EE_428"></a><a href="#FNanchor_EE_428"><span class="label">[EE]</span></a> The village of Clifford is three miles from Wetherby, +where the host was mustered.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_FF_429" id="Footnote_FF_429"></a><a href="#FNanchor_FF_429"><span class="label">[FF]</span></a> From the old Ballad.—W. W. 1820. +</p><p> +The line referred to is— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Against soe many could not stay.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_GG_430" id="Footnote_GG_430"></a><a href="#FNanchor_GG_430"><span class="label">[GG]</span></a> See note V. <a href="#Page_200">p. 200</a>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_HH_431" id="Footnote_HH_431"></a><a href="#FNanchor_HH_431"><span class="label">[HH]</span></a> See the Historians for the account of this memorable +battle, usually denominated the Battle of the Standard.—W. W. 1815. +</p><p> +It was fought at Northallerton in 1137, under Archbishop Thurston of +York. See note VI. <a href="#Page_200">p. 200</a>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_II_432" id="Footnote_II_432"></a><a href="#FNanchor_II_432"><span class="label">[II]</span></a> "In the night before the battle of Durham was strucken and +begun, the 17th day of October, <i>anno</i> 1346, there did appear to John +Fosser, then Prior of the abbey of Durham, a Vision, commanding him to +take the holy Corporax-cloth, wherewith St. Cuthbert did cover the +chalice when he used to say mass, and to put the same holy relique like +to a banner-cloth upon the point of a spear, and the next morning to go +and repair to a place on the west side of the city of Durham, called the +Red Hills, where the Maid's Bower wont to be, and there to remain and +abide till the end of the battle. To which vision, the Prior obeying, +and taking the same for a revelation of God's grace and mercy by the +mediation of holy St. Cuthbert, did accordingly the next morning, with +the monks of the said abbey, repair to the said Red Hills, and there +most devoutly humbling and prostrating themselves in prayer for the +victory in the said battle: (a great multitude of the Scots running and +pressing by them, with intention to have spoiled them, yet had no power +to commit any violence under such holy persons, so occupied in prayer, +being protected and defended by the mighty Providence of Almighty God, +and by the mediation of Holy St. Cuthbert, and the presence of the holy +relique). And, after many conflicts and warlike exploits there had and +done between the English men and the King of Scots and his company, the +said battle ended, and the victory was obtained, to the great overthrow +and confusion of the Scots, their enemies: And then the said Prior and +monks, accompanied with Ralph Lord Nevil, and John Nevil his son, and +the Lord Percy, and many other nobles of England, returned home and went +to the abbey church, there joining in hearty prayer and thanksgiving to +God and holy St. Cuthbert for the victory atchieved that day." +</p><p> +This battle was afterwards called the Battle of Neville's Cross from the +following circumstance:— +</p><p> +"On the west side of the city of Durham, where two roads pass each +other, a most notable, famous, and goodly cross of stone-work was +erected, and set up to the honour of God for the victory there obtained +in the field of battle, and known by the name of Nevil's Cross, and +built at the sole cost of the Lord Ralph Nevil, one of the most +excellent and chief persons in the said battle." The Relique of St. +Cuthbert afterwards became of great importance in military events. For +soon after this battle, says the same author, "The prior caused a goodly +and sumptuous banner to be made, (which is then described at great +length,) and in the midst of the same banner-cloth was the said holy +relique and corporax-cloth enclosed, etc. etc., and so sumptuously +finished, and absolutely perfected, this banner was dedicated to holy +St. Cuthbert, of intent and purpose, that for the future it should be +carried to any battle, as occasion should serve; and was never carried +and shewed at any battle but by the especial grace of God Almighty, and +the mediation of holy St. Cuthbert, it brought home victory; which +banner-cloth, after the dissolution of the abbey, fell into the +possession of Dean <span class="smcap">Whittingham</span>, whose wife was called <span class="smcap">Katharine</span>, being a +French woman, (as is most credibly reported by eye-witnesses,) did most +injuriously burn the same in her fire, to the open contempt and disgrace +of all ancient and goodly reliques."—Extracted from a book entitled, +<i>Durham Cathedral, as it stood before the Dissolution of the Monastery</i>. +It appears, from the old metrical History, that the above-mentioned +banner was carried by the Earl of Surrey to Flodden Field.—W. W. 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_JJ_433" id="Footnote_JJ_433"></a><a href="#FNanchor_JJ_433"><span class="label">[JJ]</span></a> Compare <i>An Evening Walk</i>, ll. 365, 366 (vol. i. p. 31)— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The song of mountain-streams, unheard by day,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Now hardly heard, beguiles my homeward way.</span> +</div></div><p> +Also <i>The Excursion</i> (book iv. ll. 1173, 1174)— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The little rills, and waters numberless,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Inaudible by daylight.</span> +</div></div><p> +And Wordsworth's sonnet beginning— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The unremitting voice of nightly streams</span><br /> +<span class="i0">That wastes so oft, we think, its tuneful powers.</span> +</div></div><p> +Compare also in Gray's <i>Tour in the Lakes</i>, "At distance, heard the +murmur of many waterfalls, not audible in the daytime."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_KK_434" id="Footnote_KK_434"></a><a href="#FNanchor_KK_434"><span class="label">[KK]</span></a> Compare Milton's Sonnet on his Blindness, l. 14— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They also serve who only stand and wait.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_LL_435" id="Footnote_LL_435"></a><a href="#FNanchor_LL_435"><span class="label">[LL]</span></a> In the limestone ridges and hills of the Craven district +of Yorkshire there are many caverns and underground recesses, such as +the Yordas cave referred to in <i>The Prelude</i> (vol. iii. p. 289).—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_MM_436" id="Footnote_MM_436"></a><a href="#FNanchor_MM_436"><span class="label">[MM]</span></a> The Towers of Barnard Castle on the Tees in Yorkshire.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_NN_437" id="Footnote_NN_437"></a><a href="#FNanchor_NN_437"><span class="label">[NN]</span></a> It is so called to this day, and is thus described by Dr. +Whitaker. "Rylstone Fell yet exhibits a monument of the old warfare +between the Nortons and Cliffords. On a point of very high ground, +commanding an immense prospect, and protected by two deep ravines, are +the remains of a square tower, expressly said by Dodsworth to have been +built by Richard Norton. The walls are of strong grout-work, about four +feet thick. It seems to have been three stories high. Breaches have been +industriously made in all the sides, almost to the ground, to render it +untenable. +</p><p> +"But Norton Tower was probably a sort of pleasure-house in summer, as +there are, adjoining to it, several large mounds, (two of them are +pretty entire,) of which no other account can be given than that they +were butts for large companies of archers. +</p><p> +"The place is savagely wild, and admirably adapted to the uses of a +watch-tower."—W. W. 1815. (See note VII. <a href="#Page_201">p. 201</a>.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span> +</p><p> +The remains of Norton Tower are not in the highest point of the Rylstone +Fells, but on one of the western ridges: and there are now only four +bare roofless rectangular walls. It was originally both a watch-tower +and a hunting-tower. Looking towards Malham to the north and north-west, +the view is exactly as described in the poem.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_OO_438" id="Footnote_OO_438"></a><a href="#FNanchor_OO_438"><span class="label">[OO]</span></a> This extract was first prefixed to canto seventh in the +edition of 1837.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_PP_439" id="Footnote_PP_439"></a><a href="#FNanchor_PP_439"><span class="label">[PP]</span></a> "After the attainder of Richard Norton, his estates were +forfeited to the crown, where they remained till the 2d or 3d of James; +they were then granted to Francis Earl of Cumberland." From an accurate survey +made at that time, several particulars have been extracted by Dr. W. It +appears that the mansion-house was then in decay. "Immediately adjoining +is a close, called the Vivery, so called undoubtedly from the French +Vivier, or modern Latin Viverium; for there are near the house large +remains of a pleasure-ground, such as were introduced in the earlier +part of Elizabeth's time, with topiary works, fish-ponds, an island, +etc. The whole township was ranged by an hundred and thirty red deer, +the property of the Lord, which, together with the wood, had, after the +attainder of Mr. Norton, been committed to Sir Stephen Tempest. The +wood, it seems, had been abandoned to depredations, before which time it +appears that the neighbourhood must have exhibited a forest-like and +sylvan scene. In this survey, among the old tenants, is mentioned one +Richard Kitchen, butler to Mr. Norton, who rose in rebellion with his +master, and was executed at Ripon."—W. W. 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_QQ_440" id="Footnote_QQ_440"></a><a href="#FNanchor_QQ_440"><span class="label">[QQ]</span></a> There are two small streams which rise near Rylstone. One, +called Rylstone beck, flows westwards into the Aire. Another makes its +way eastwards towards the Wharfe, joins Linton beck, and so enters +Wharfe between Linton Church and Grassington Bridge. It is to the latter +that Wordsworth refers, although the former is now called Rylstone +beck.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_RR_441" id="Footnote_RR_441"></a><a href="#FNanchor_RR_441"><span class="label">[RR]</span></a> "At the extremity of the parish of Burnsal, the valley of +Wharf forks off into two great branches, one of which retains the name +of Wharfdale to the source of the river; the other is usually called +Littondale, but more anciently and properly Amerdale. Dern-brook, which +runs along an obscure valley from the N. W., is derived from a Teutonic +word, signifying concealment."—Dr. <span class="smcap">Whitaker</span>.—W. W. 1815. +</p><p> +The valley of Littondale, as is shown in Wordsworth's note, once bore +the name of Amerdale. Though the name is not now given to the beck, it +survives, singularly enough, in one pool in the stream, where it joins +the Wharfe, which is still called "Amerdale Dub."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_SS_442" id="Footnote_SS_442"></a><a href="#FNanchor_SS_442"><span class="label">[SS]</span></a> From this valley of Litton a small lateral one runs up in +a south-westerly direction at Arncliffe, making a "deep fork," and is +called Dernbrook. Dern means seclusion, and two or three miles up this +ghyll is a farm-house bearing the name of Dernbrook House. "The phrase +'By lurking Dernbrook's pathless side' is so appropriate," says the late +incumbent of Arncliffe, the Ven. Archdeacon Boyd, in a letter to the +editor, "that it would almost seem that Wordsworth had been there." Mr. +Boyd adds, "In the illustrated edition of <i>The White Doe</i>, published by +Longmans a few years ago, there is an illustration by Birket Foster of +the Dernbrook House, the original of which I had the honour to supply. +It is but a short distance—two or three miles—from Malham Tarn."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_TT_443" id="Footnote_TT_443"></a><a href="#FNanchor_TT_443"><span class="label">[TT]</span></a> On one of the bells of Rylstone church, which seems +co-eval with the building of the tower, is this cypher, <em class="antiqua">J. N.</em> +for John Norton, and the motto, "<em class="antiqua">God us ayde</em>."—W. W. +1815. +</p><p> +"A ring, bearing the same motto, was sold at a sale of antiquities from +Bramhope Manor, Feb. 1865. The Norton Shield of Arms is in Rylstone +Church." (See Murray's <i>Yorkshire</i>.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_UU_444" id="Footnote_UU_444"></a><a href="#FNanchor_UU_444"><span class="label">[UU]</span></a> Which is thus described by Dr. Whitaker:—"On the plain +summit of the hill are the foundations of a strong wall, stretching from +the S. W. to the N. E. corner of the tower, and to the edge of a very +deep glen. From this glen, a ditch, several hundred yards long, runs +south to another deep and rugged ravine. On the N. and W. where the +banks are very steep, no wall or mound is discoverable, paling being the +only fence that would stand on such ground. +</p><p> +"From the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, it appears that such pounds +for deer, sheep, etc., were far from being uncommon in the south of +Scotland. The principle of them was something like that of a wire +mouse-trap. On the declivity of a steep hill, the bottom and sides of +which were fenced so as to be impassable, a wall was constructed nearly +level with the surface on the outside, yet so high within that without +wings it was impossible to escape in the opposite direction. Care was +probably taken that these enclosures should contain better feed than the +neighbouring parks or forests; and whoever is acquainted with the habits +of these sequacious animals, will easily conceive, that if the leader +was once tempted to descend into the snare, an herd would follow." +</p><p> +I cannot conclude without recommending to the notice of all lovers of +beautiful scenery—Bolton Abbey and its neighbourhood. This enchanting +spot belongs to the Duke of Devonshire; and the superintendance of it +has for some years been entrusted to the Rev. William Carr, who has most +skilfully opened out its features; and in whatever he has added, has +done justice to the place by working with an invisible hand of art in +the very spirit of nature.—W. W. 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_VV_445" id="Footnote_VV_445"></a><a href="#FNanchor_VV_445"><span class="label">[VV]</span></a> The late Archdeacon of Craven wrote to me of this, "There +never can have been a Lady Chapel in the usual place at Bolton, for the +altar was close to the east window. I never heard of a Saint Mary's +<i>shrine</i>; but, most probably, the church was dedicated to St. Mary, in +which case she" (the Lady Emily) "would be speaking of the building. In +proof of this, the Priory of Embsay was dedicated to St. Mary; and +naturally the dedication, on the removal from Embsay to Bolton, would be +renewed. See Whitaker, p. 369, in extracting from the compotus, 'Comp. +Monasterii be' Mar' de Boulton in Craven.'" It may be added that the +whole church being dedicated to St. Mary—as in the case of the +Cistercian buildings—there would be no Lady Chapel. The mention in +detail of "prostrate altars," "shrines defaced," "fret-work imagery," +"plates of ornamental brass," and "sculptured Forms of Warriors" in the +closing canto of <i>The White Doe</i> is—like the "one sequestered hillock +green" where Francis Norton was supposed to "sleep in his last +abode"—part of the imaginative drapery of the poem.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_WW_446" id="Footnote_WW_446"></a><a href="#FNanchor_WW_446"><span class="label">[WW]</span></a> Compare Sackville's <i>Ferrex and Porrex</i>, iv. 2; Lord +Surrey's lines beginning, "Give place, ye lovers"; and George +Turberville's poem which begins, "You want no skill."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_XX_447" id="Footnote_XX_447"></a><a href="#FNanchor_XX_447"><span class="label">[XX]</span></a> Camden expressly says that he was violently attached to +the Catholic Religion.—W. W. 1815.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA" id="THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA"></a>THE FORCE OF PRAYER;<a name="FNanchor_A_454" id="FNanchor_A_454"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_454" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">Or, The Founding of Bolton Priory</span></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">A Tradition</span></h4> + +<p class="center">Composed 1807.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>[An appendage to <i>The White Doe</i>. My friend, Mr. +Rogers, has also written on the subject.<a name="FNanchor_B_455" id="FNanchor_B_455"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_455" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> The story is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +preserved in Dr. Whitaker's <i>History of Craven</i>—a topographical +writer of first-rate merit in all that concerns the past; but such +was his aversion from the modern spirit, as shown in the spread +of manufactories in those districts of which he treats, that his +readers are left entirely ignorant both of the progress of these +arts and their real bearing upon the comfort, virtues, and +happiness of the inhabitants. While wandering on foot +through the fertile valleys and over the moorlands of the +Apennine that divide Yorkshire from Lancashire, I used to be +delighted with observing the number of substantial cottages that +had sprung up on every side, each having its little plot of fertile +ground won from the surrounding waste. A bright and warm +fire, if needed, was always to be found in these dwellings. +The father was at his loom; the children looked healthy and +happy. Is it not to be feared that the increase of mechanic +power had done away with many of these blessings, and +substituted many ills? Alas! if these evils grow, how are +they to be checked, and where is the remedy to be found? +Political economy will not supply it; that is certain; we must +look to something deeper, purer, and higher.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<em class="antiqua" style="font-size: 110%;">What is good for a bootless bene?</em>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these dark words begins my Tale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their meaning is, whence can comfort spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Prayer is of no avail?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<em class="antiqua" style="font-size: 110%;">What is good for a bootless bene?</em>" <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Falconer to the Lady said;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she made answer "<span class="allcapsc">ENDLESS SORROW</span>!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she knew that her Son was dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She knew it by<a name="FNanchor_1_448" id="FNanchor_1_448"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_448" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> the Falconer's words,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the look of the Falconer's eye; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the love which was in her soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For her youthful Romilly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">—Young Romilly through Barden woods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is ranging high and low;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And holds a greyhound in a leash, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To let slip upon buck or doe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The pair<a name="FNanchor_2_449" id="FNanchor_2_449"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_449" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> have reached that fearful chasm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How tempting to bestride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For lordly Wharf is there pent in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rocks on either side. <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The<a name="FNanchor_3_450" id="FNanchor_3_450"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_450" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> striding-place is called <span class="smcap">The Strid</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A name which it took of yore:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand years hath it borne that name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shall a thousand more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And hither is young Romilly come, <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what may now forbid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he, perhaps for the hundredth time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall bound across <span class="smcap">The Strid</span>?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sprang in glee,—for what cared he <span class="linenum">29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the river was strong, and the rocks were steep?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the greyhound in the leash hung back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And checked him in his leap.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Boy is in the arms of Wharf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strangled by<a name="FNanchor_4_451" id="FNanchor_4_451"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_451" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> a merciless force;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For never more was young Romilly seen <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he rose a lifeless corse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now there is<a name="FNanchor_5_452" id="FNanchor_5_452"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_452" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> stillness in the vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And long,<a name="FNanchor_6_453" id="FNanchor_6_453"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_453" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> unspeaking, sorrow:</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Wharf shall be to pitying hearts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A name more sad than Yarrow. <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If for a lover the Lady wept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A solace she might borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From death, and from the passion of death:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Wharf might heal her sorrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She weeps not for the wedding-day <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which was to be to-morrow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hope was a further-looking hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hers is a mother's sorrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He was a tree that stood alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And proudly did its branches wave; <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the root of this delightful tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was in her husband's grave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long, long in darkness did she sit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her first words were, "Let there be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Bolton, on the field of Wharf, <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stately Priory!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The stately Priory was reared;<a name="FNanchor_C_456" id="FNanchor_C_456"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_456" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Wharf, as he moved along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To matins joined a mournful voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor failed at even-song. <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the Lady prayed in heaviness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That looked not for relief!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But slowly did her succour come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a patience to her grief.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! there is never sorrow of heart <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shall lack a timely end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If but to God we turn, and ask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Him to be our friend!<a name="FNanchor_D_457" id="FNanchor_D_457"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_457" class="fnanchor">[D]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>There were few variations in the text of this poem, from +1815 to 1850; but I have found, in a letter of Dorothy Wordsworth's +to her friend Miss Jane Pollard, the mother of Lady +Monteagle—who kindly sent it to me—an earlier version, +which differs considerably from the form in which it was first +published in 1815. The letter is dated October 18th, 1807, +and the poem is as follows:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"<i>What is good for a bootless bene?</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Lady answer'd, "<i>endless sorrow</i>."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Her</i> words are plain; but the Falconer's words<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are a path that is dark to travel thorough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">These words I bring from the Banks of Wharf,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dark words to front an ancient tale:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And their meaning is, whence can comfort spring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When prayer is of no avail?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"What is good for a bootless bene?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Falconer to the Lady said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she made answer as ye have heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For she knew that her Son was dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">She knew it from the Falconer's words<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And from the look of the Falconer's eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And from the love that was in her heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For her youthful Romelli.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Young Romelli to the Woods is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And who doth on his steps attend?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He hath a greyhound in a leash,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A chosen forest Friend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And they have reach'd that famous Chasm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where he who dares may stride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Across the River Wharf, pent in<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With rocks on either side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And that striding place is call'd <span class="smcap">The Strid</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A name which it took of yore;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A thousand years hath it borne that name,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shall a thousand more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span><span class="i2">And thither is young Romelli come;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And what may now forbid<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That He, perhaps for the hundredth time,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall bound across the Strid?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">He sprang in glee; for what cared he<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That the River was strong, and the Rocks were steep?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the greyhound in the Leash hung back<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And check'd him in his leap.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The Boy is in the arms of Wharf,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And strangled with a merciless force;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For never more was young Romelli seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till he was a lifeless corse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Now is there stillness in the vale<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And long unspeaking sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wharf has buried fonder hopes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than e'er were drown'd in Yarrow.<a name="FNanchor_E_458" id="FNanchor_E_458"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_458" class="fnanchor">[E]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">If for a Lover the Lady wept<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A comfort she might borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From death, and from the passion of death;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Old Wharf might heal her sorrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">She weeps not for the Wedding-day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was to be to-morrow,<a name="FNanchor_F_459" id="FNanchor_F_459"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_459" class="fnanchor">[F]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her hope was a farther-looking hope<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hers is a Mother's sorrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Oh was he not a comely tree?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And proudly did his branches wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the Root of this delightful Tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is in her Husband's grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Long, long in darkness did she sit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her first word was, "Let there be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At Bolton, in the Fields of Wharf<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A stately Priory."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And the stately Priory was rear'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Wharf as he moved along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Matins joined a mournful voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor fail'd at Even-song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And the Lady pray'd in heaviness<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That wish'd not for relief;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span><span class="i2">But slowly did her succour come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a patience to her grief.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Oh! there is never sorrow of heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That shall lack a timely end,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If but to God we turn, and ask<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of him to be our Friend.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The poem of Samuel Rogers, to which Wordsworth refers in +the Fenwick note, is named <i>The Boy of Egremond</i>. It begins—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Say, what remains when Hope is fled?"</span><br /> +<span class="i2">She answered, "endless weeping!"</span> +</div></div> + +<p>In a letter to Wordsworth in 1815, Charles Lamb wrote +thus of <a href="#THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA"><i>The Force of Prayer</i></a>, "Young Romilly is divine; the +reasons of his mother's grief being remediless. I never saw +parental love carried up so high, towering above the other loves. +Shakspeare had done something for the filial in Cordelia, and, +by implication, for the fatherly too, in Lear's resentment; he +left it for you to explore the depths of the maternal heart.... +When I first opened upon the just mentioned poem, in a careless +tone, I said to Mary, as if putting a riddle, '<i>What is good for a +bootless bene?</i>' To which, with infinite presence of mind (as +the jest-book has it), she answered, 'A shoeless pea.' It was +the first joke she ever made.... I never felt deeply in my +life if that poem did not make me feel, both lately and when I +read it in MS." (<i>The Letters of Charles Lamb</i>, edited by Alfred +Ainger, vol. i. p. 288.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_448" id="Footnote_1_448"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_448"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... from ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_449" id="Footnote_2_449"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_449"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And the Pair ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_450" id="Footnote_3_450"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_450"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1850. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">This ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_451" id="Footnote_4_451"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_451"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">with ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_452" id="Footnote_5_452"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_452"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Now is there ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_453" id="Footnote_6_453"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_453"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And deep ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1837 returns to that of 1815.</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_454" id="Footnote_A_454"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_454"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> See <a href="#THE_WHITE_DOE_OF_RYLSTONE"><i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i></a>.—W. W. 1820.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_455" id="Footnote_B_455"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_455"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Charles Lamb wrote to Wordsworth, May 1819, of Rogers—"He has +been re-writing your Poem of the Strid, and publishing it at the end of his +'Human Life.' Tie him up to the cart, hangman, while you are about it." +(<i>The Letters of Charles Lamb</i>, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. ii. p. 20.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_456" id="Footnote_C_456"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_456"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> The Lady Alice De Romilly built not only Bolton Priory, but the nave +of Carlisle Cathedral, and the chancel of Crosthwaite Parish Church at +Keswick.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_457" id="Footnote_D_457"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_457"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> "Young Romilly" was a son of Fitz Duncan, Earl of Murray in Scotland, +whose Cumbrian estates extended from Dunmail Raise to St. Bees. This +"Boy of Egremond" was second cousin of Malcolm, King of Scotland; and +by the marriage of Fitz Duncan's sister (Matilda the Good) with Henry I. of +England, he stood in the same relation to Henry II. of England. Fitz +Duncan married Alice, the only daughter and heiress of Robert de Romilly, +lord of Skipton. Compare Ferguson's <i>History of Cumberland</i>, p. 175.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_458" id="Footnote_E_458"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_458"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> Alluding to a Ballad of Logan's.—W. W. 1807.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_459" id="Footnote_F_459"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_459"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> From the same Ballad.—W. W. 1807.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2 class="spec"><a name="COMPOSED_WHILE_THE_AUTHOR_WAS_ENGAGED" id="COMPOSED_WHILE_THE_AUTHOR_WAS_ENGAGED"></a>COMPOSED WHILE THE AUTHOR WAS ENGAGED +IN WRITING A TRACT, OCCASIONED BY THE +CONVENTION OF CINTRA. 1808</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1808.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>This sonnet was included among those "dedicated to +Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not 'mid the World's vain objects that<a name="FNanchor_1_460" id="FNanchor_1_460"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_460" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> enslave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The free-born Soul—that World whose vaunted skill</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">In selfish interest perverts the will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose factions lead astray the wise and brave—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not there; but in dark wood and rocky cave, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hollow vale which foaming torrents fill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With omnipresent murmur as they rave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down their steep beds, that never shall be still:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, mighty Nature! in this school sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I weigh the hopes and fears of suffering Spain; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For her consult the auguries of time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the human heart explore my way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And look and listen—gathering, whence<a name="FNanchor_2_461" id="FNanchor_2_461"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_461" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> I may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Triumph, and thoughts no bondage can restrain.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Wordsworth began to write on the Convention of Cintra in +November 1808, and sent two articles on the subject to the +December (1808) and January (1809) numbers of <i>The Courier</i>. +The subject grew in importance to him as he discussed it: and +he threw his reflections on the subject into the form of a small +treatise, the preface to which was dated 20th May 1809. The +full title of this (so-called) "Tract" is "Concerning the Relations +of Great Britain, Spain, and Portugal to each other, and +to the common Enemy, at this crisis; and specifically as affected +by the Convention of Cintra: the whole brought to the test of +those Principles, by which alone the Independence and Freedom +of Nations can be Preserved or Recovered."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_460" id="Footnote_1_460"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_460"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1820. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... which ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_461" id="Footnote_2_461"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_461"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... where ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="COMPOSED_AT_THE_SAME_TIME_AND_ON" id="COMPOSED_AT_THE_SAME_TIME_AND_ON"></a>COMPOSED AT THE SAME TIME AND ON +THE SAME OCCASION</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1808.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I dropped my pen; and listened to the Wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sang of trees up-torn and vessels tost—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A midnight harmony; and wholly lost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the general sense of men by chains confined</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of business, care, or pleasure; or resigned <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To timely sleep. Thought I, the impassioned strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, without aid of numbers, I sustain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like acceptation from the World will find.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet some with apprehensive ear shall drink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dirge devoutly breathed o'er sorrows past; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the attendant promise will give heed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prophecy,—like that of this wild blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, while it makes the heart with sadness shrink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tells also of bright calms that shall succeed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Year_1809" id="Year_1809"></a>1809</h2> + + +<p>The poems belonging to the years 1809 and 1810 were +mainly sonnets—although <i>The Excursion</i> was being added to +at intervals. Of twenty-four which were included by Wordsworth, +in the final arrangement of his poems, among those +"dedicated to National Independence and Liberty," fourteen +belong to the year 1809, and ten to 1810. It is difficult +to ascertain the principle which guided him in determining +the succession of these sonnets. They were not placed in +chronological order; nor is there any historical or topographical +reason for their being arranged as they were. I have therefore +felt at liberty to depart from his order, to the following extent.</p> + +<p>The six sonnets referring to the Tyrolese have been brought +together in one group. Those containing allusions to Spain +might have been similarly treated; but the sonnets on Schill, +the King of Sweden, and Napoleon—as arranged by Wordsworth +himself—do not break the continuity of the series on +Spain, in the same way that the insertion of those on Palafox and +Zaragoza interferes with the unity of the Tyrolean group; and +the re-arrangement of the latter series enables me more conveniently +to append to it a German translation of the sonnets, +and a paper upon them, by Alois Brandl.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TYROLESE_SONNETS" id="TYROLESE_SONNETS"></a>TYROLESE SONNETS</h2> + + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<h3>HOFFER</h3> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1809<a name="FNanchor_A_465" id="FNanchor_A_465"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_465" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<p>The six sonnets of this Tyrolean group were placed among +the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span><span class="i0">Of mortal parents is the Hero born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By whom the undaunted Tyrolese are led?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is it Tell's great Spirit, from the dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Returned to animate an age forlorn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He comes like Phœbus through the gates of morn <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When dreary darkness is discomfited,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet mark his modest<a name="FNanchor_1_462" id="FNanchor_1_462"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_462" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> state! upon his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That simple crest, a heron's plume, is worn.<a name="FNanchor_2_463" id="FNanchor_2_463"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_463" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Liberty! they stagger at the shock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From van to rear—and with one mind would flee, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But half their host is buried:<a name="FNanchor_3_464" id="FNanchor_3_464"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_464" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>—rock on rock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Descends:—beneath this godlike Warrior, see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hills, torrents, woods, embodied to bemock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Tyrant, and confound his cruelty.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The expectation that the Germans would rise against the +French in 1807 was realised only in the Tyrol. Andreas Hofer, +an innkeeper in the Passeierthal, was the chief of the Tyrolese +leaders. More than once he called his countrymen to arms, +and was successful for a time. The Bavarians, however, +defeated him, in October 1809. He was tried by court-martial, +and shot in 1810.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_462" id="Footnote_1_462"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_462"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... simple ... <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_463" id="Footnote_2_463"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_463"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A Heron's feather for a crest is worn. <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_464" id="Footnote_3_464"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_464"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var14">... at the shock;</span><br /> +<span class="var">The Murderers are aghast; they strive to flee</span><br /> +<span class="var">And half their Host is buried:— ... <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_465" id="Footnote_A_465"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_465"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, October 26.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ADVANCE_COME_FORTH" id="ADVANCE_COME_FORTH"></a>II</h2> + +<h3>"ADVANCE—COME FORTH FROM THY +TYROLEAN GROUND"</h3> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1809<a name="FNanchor_A_466" id="FNanchor_A_466"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_466" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Advance—come forth from thy Tyrolean ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Liberty! stern Nymph of soul untamed;</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Sweet Nymph, O rightly of the mountains named!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the long chain of Alps from mound to mound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er the eternal snows, like Echo, bound; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Echo, when the hunter train at dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have roused her from her sleep: and forest-lawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cliffs, woods and caves, her viewless steps resound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And babble of her pastime!—On, dread Power!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With such invisible motion speed thy flight, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through hanging clouds, from craggy height to height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the green vales and through the herdsman's bower—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all the Alps may gladden in thy might,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, there, and in all places at one hour.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_466" id="Footnote_A_466"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_466"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, October 26.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="FEELINGS_OF_THE_TYROLESE" id="FEELINGS_OF_THE_TYROLESE"></a>III</h2> + +<h3>FEELINGS OF THE TYROLESE</h3> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1809<a name="FNanchor_A_468" id="FNanchor_A_468"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_468" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Land we from our fathers had in trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to our children will transmit, or die:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is our maxim, this our piety;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And God and Nature say that it is just.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That which we <i>would</i> perform in arms—we must! <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We read the dictate in the infant's eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the wife's smile; and in the placid sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at our feet, amid the silent dust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of them that were before us.—Sing aloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old songs, the precious music of the heart! <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give, herds and flocks, your voices to the wind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While we go forth, a self-devoted crowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With weapons grasped in fearless hands,<a name="FNanchor_1_467" id="FNanchor_1_467"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_467" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> to assert<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our virtue, and to vindicate mankind.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_467" id="Footnote_1_467"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_467"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">With weapons in the fearless hand, <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_468" id="Footnote_A_468"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_468"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, December 21.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ALAS_WHAT_BOOTS_THE_LONG" id="ALAS_WHAT_BOOTS_THE_LONG"></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>"ALAS! WHAT BOOTS THE LONG +LABORIOUS QUEST"</h3> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1809<a name="FNanchor_A_471" id="FNanchor_A_471"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_471" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! what boots the long laborious quest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of moral prudence, sought through good and ill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or pains<a name="FNanchor_1_469" id="FNanchor_1_469"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_469" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> abstruse—to elevate the will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And<a name="FNanchor_2_470" id="FNanchor_2_470"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_470" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> lead us on to that transcendent rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where every passion shall the sway attest <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Reason, seated on her sovereign hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is it but a vain and curious skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If sapient Germany must lie deprest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the brutal sword?—Her haughty Schools<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall blush; and may not we with sorrow say, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few strong instincts and a few plain rules,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the herdsmen of the Alps, have wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More for mankind at this unhappy day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than all the pride of intellect and thought?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>See the paper by Alois Brandl appended to this series of +sonnets, <a href="#Page_218">p. 218</a>. Wordsworth had probably no means of knowing +anything of Fichte's "Addresses to the German Nation," +delivered weekly in Berlin, from December 1807 to March +1808. (See <i>Fichte</i>, by Professor Adamson, pp. 84-91.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_469" id="Footnote_1_469"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_469"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... pain ... <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_470" id="Footnote_2_470"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_470"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Or ... <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_471" id="Footnote_A_471"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_471"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, November 16, under the title, <i>Sonnet suggested by the +efforts of the Tyrolese, contrasted with the present state of Germany</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ON_THE_FINAL_SUBMISSION_OF_THE_TYROLESE" id="ON_THE_FINAL_SUBMISSION_OF_THE_TYROLESE"></a>V</h2> + +<h3>ON THE FINAL SUBMISSION OF THE +TYROLESE</h3> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1809<a name="FNanchor_A_472" id="FNanchor_A_472"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_472" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was a <i>moral</i> end for which they fought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Else how, when mighty Thrones were put to shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could they, poor Shepherds, have preserved an aim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A resolution, or enlivening thought?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor hath that moral good been <i>vainly</i> sought; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in their magnanimity and fame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Powers have they left, an impulse, and a claim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which neither can be overturned nor bought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep, Warriors, sleep! among your hills repose!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We know that ye, beneath the stern control <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of awful prudence, keep the unvanquished soul:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when, impatient of her guilt and woes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Europe breaks forth; then, Shepherds! shall ye rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For perfect triumph o'er your Enemies.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_472" id="Footnote_A_472"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_472"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, December 21, under the title, <i>On the report of the submission +of the Tyrolese</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MARTIAL_COURAGE_OF_A_DAY_IS_VAIN" id="THE_MARTIAL_COURAGE_OF_A_DAY_IS_VAIN"></a>VI</h2> + +<h3>"THE MARTIAL COURAGE OF A DAY IS +VAIN"</h3> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810?<a name="FNanchor_A_473" id="FNanchor_A_473"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_473" class="fnanchor">[A]</a>—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The martial courage of a day is vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An empty noise of death the battle's roar,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">If vital hope be wanting to restore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or fortitude be wanting to sustain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Armies or kingdoms. We have heard a strain <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of triumph, how the labouring Danube bore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A weight of hostile corses: drenched with gore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were the wide fields, the hamlets heaped with slain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet see (the mighty tumult overpast)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Austria a Daughter of her Throne hath sold! <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her Tyrolean Champion we behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murdered, like one ashore by shipwreck cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murdered without relief. Oh! blind as bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think that such assurance can stand fast!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_473" id="Footnote_A_473"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_473"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> I retain this Tyrolese sonnet amongst the others belonging to the same +theme; but, as Hofer was shot in 1810, it was probably written in that +year.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>I append to this series of sonnets on the Tyrol and the +Tyrolese the translation of a paper contributed by Alois Brandl, +a Tyrolean, to the <i>Neue Freie Presse</i> of October 22, 1880. +Herr Brandl was for some time in England investigating the +traces of a German literary influence on Coleridge, Wordsworth, +and their contemporaries.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"It was in the year 1809; Napoleon was at the height of +his career of victory; and England alone of all his opponents +held the supremacy at sea. For years the English were the +only representatives of freedom in Europe. At last it seemed +that two fortunate allies arose to join their cause—the insurgents +in Spain and in the little land of Tyrol. No wonder then that +now British poets sympathised with the victors at the hill of +Isel, and praised their courage and their leaders, and at last, +when they were overcome by superior forces, laid the laurel +wreath of tragic heroism on their graves.</p> + +<p>"Thirty or forty years before, English poets would scarcely +have shown such a lively interest in a war of independence in a +foreign country. They stood under the curse of narrow-mindedness +and one-sidedness both in politics and in art, so that their +smooth-running verses neither sought nor found a response even +in the hearts of their own fellow-countrymen. The poets who +appeared before the public in the year 1798 with the famous +'Lyrical Ballads' were the first to strike out a new path. +Although differing considerably from one another in other +respects, they agreed in their opposition to the conventionality +of the old school."</p> + +<p class="center" style="letter-spacing: 3em;">·······</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>"Wordsworth lived in a simple little house on the romantic +lake of Grasmere, in the heart of the mountains of Westmoreland. +He studied more in his walks over heath and field than +in books, and entered with interest into the questions affecting +the good of the country people around him. All this of +necessity impelled him to take a warm interest in the herdsmen +of the Alps.</p> + +<p>"But the Tyrolese inspired him with still greater interest on +political grounds. Like all the lake poets, he was an enthusiastic +admirer, not of the French revolution, but of the republic +as long as it seemed to desire the realization of the ideas of +Liberty, Fraternity, Equality, and the rest of Rousseau's Arcadian +notions; and it was a bitter disillusion for him, as well as for +Klopstock, when this much-praised home of the free rights of +man resolved itself into the empire of Napoleon. From this +moment he took his place on the side of the enemies of France, +and particularly on the side of the Tyrolese, since they had never +lost the natural simplicity of their habits, and had regained the +hereditary freedom, of which they had been deprived, with the +sword. Thus arose the curious paradox, that a republican poet +glorified spontaneously the cause of an exceedingly monarchical +and conservative country.</p> + +<p>"Wordsworth gave vent to his enthusiasm in six sonnets, +which, as far as power of language and vigour of thought are +concerned, form interesting companion-pieces to the poems of +the contemporary Tyrolese poet Alois Weissenbach. In the +first three sonnets the splendour of the Alpine world, which he +knew from his journeys in Switzerland, forms the background +of the picture. In the foreground he sees a band of brave and +daring men, in whose hearts he thought he could find all his +own moral pathos. Many of the features which he has introduced +certainly show more ideal fancy than knowledge of detail; +but it was not his purpose to compose a correct report of the +war, but to give an exciting description of the heroes of this +struggle for independence, in order that, even though they +themselves should be overpowered, their spirit might arise again +among his own fellow-countrymen. In the fourth sonnet, in +his enthusiasm for the Tyrolese, he has treated the German +universities with unnecessary severity; but this does not prove +any intentional want of fairness on his part, for at that time our +universities stood under general discredit in England as the hotbeds +of the wildest metaphysics and political dreams. The events +of the year 1813 would probably induce Wordsworth to view them +in a more favourable light. Similarly the sixth sonnet is not quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +just to Austria; in particular Wordsworth has made decidedly +too little allowance for the fact that the Emperor Franz I. ceded +the Tyrol quite against his own will under the pressure of +circumstances. But in this case we must not simply impute all +the blame to the poet; for as we see from the diary of his friend +Southey, his information as to the doings of Austria was of a +most vague and unfavourable character. We, however, cannot +have any wish to impute to Austria the sins of ill-advised +diplomacy."</p> +</div> + +<p>The following are Herr Brandl's German translations of +five of Wordsworth's sonnets:—</p> + + +<h3 class="sonnet"><em class="antiqua">1</em></h3> + +<h3 class="sonnet2"><em class="antiqua">Andreas Hofer.</em></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Von Sterblichen geboren sei der Held,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Der den Tirolern todeskühn gebeut?</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Ist etwa Tell's Geist aus der Ewigkeit</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Gekehrt, zu wecken die verlor'ne Welt?</em><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Er kommt wie Phöbus aus dem Morgenzelt,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Wenn sich die Finsterniß der Nacht zerstreut,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Und doch, wie schlicht! Ein Falkenschweif nur dreut</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Von seinem Hut und füllt sein Wappenfeld.</em><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">O Freiheit! Wie der Feind erbebt in Rücken</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Und Front und gerne flöh' in <span style="letter-spacing: .25em;">einer</span> Fluth,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Wär' er nicht halb bedeckt von Felsenstücken,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Gewälzt von dieses Kämpfers Göttermuth!</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Geeint sind Berg, Wald, Wildbach, zu erdrücken</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Hohnlachend den Tyrann und seine Wuth.</em><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="sonnet"><em class="antiqua">2</em><a name="FNanchor_B_474" id="FNanchor_B_474"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_474" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Freiheit, ersteig aus deinem Heimatsland</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Tirol! du Mädchen ernst und unzähmbar</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Und lieblich doch, der Berge Kind fürwahr!</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Ein Echo zwischen Fels und Alpenwand.</em><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Und über Gletschern bist du festgebannt;</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Ein Echo, das die Jagd im Morgengrau</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Vom Schlaf' aufscheucht, daß Berg und Wald und Au</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Und Höhle dröhnen, wo's unsichtbar stand,</em></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span><span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Sein Spiel verkündend. So urplötzlich strahl',</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Du hehre Macht, hervor im Siegeslauf</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Durch Wolkenwust, von Klippenknauf zu Knauf,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Durch Almenhütten, durch das grüne Thal;</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">In dir dann jauchzen alle Alpen auf</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Hier, dort und überall mit <span style="letter-spacing: .25em;">einem</span> Mal!</em><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="sonnet"><em class="antiqua">3</em></h3> + +<h3 class="sonnet4"><em class="antiqua">Gefühle der Tiroler.</em></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">»Das Land ist uns vertraut vom Ahngeschlecht:</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">So sei's vererbt—und kost' es auch das Leben—</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Den Kindern: das ist Pflicht und fromm und eben;</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Natur und Gott, sie nennen es gerecht.</em><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Wir <span style="letter-spacing: .25em;">müssen</span> thun, was möglich, im Gefecht:</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Sieh' dies Gebot im Kindesauge leben,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Von Frauenlippen, aus dem Aether schweben;</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Ihr Väter selbst aus Grabesmoder sprecht</em><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Es laut empor.—So kling' in Sangesbraus</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Der alten Lieder herzliche Musik!</em><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><em class="antiqua">Einstimmen Hirt und Heerde in den Reihen!</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Ein opferwillig' Häuflein zieh'n wir aus,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Die Waffen in den Händen, Muth im Blick,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><em class="antiqua">Der Tugend treu, die Menschheit zu befreien.«</em><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="sonnet"><em class="antiqua">4</em></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Was nützt, ach! langes sittenkluges Streiten,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Das man aus »gut« und »böse« preßt mit Müh';</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Was dummer Fleiß, zu höh'n die Energie</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Und zu transcendentaler Ruh' zu leiten,</em><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Daß jede Leidenschaft sich lasse reiten</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Von der Vernunft in Allsuprematie:</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Ist das nicht seltsam eitle Theorie,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Wenn Deutschland trotz so viel Spitzfindigkeiten</em><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Dem rohen Schwert erliegt? Erröthen sollen</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Die hohen Schulen! Müssen wir nicht sagen:</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Mehr wußten wenig Regeln, starkes Wollen</em><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><em class="antiqua">Durch schlichte Alpenhirten auszuführen</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Für's Menschenwohl in diesen Unglückstagen,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><em class="antiqua">Als alles stolze Metaphysiciren?</em><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<h3 class="sonnet"><em class="antiqua">5</em></h3> + +<h3 class="sonnet3"><em class="antiqua">Auf die schließliche Unterwerfung der Tiroler.</em><br /></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Ist einer <span style="letter-spacing: .25em;">guten</span> Sache galt ihr Schlagen;</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Wie hätten bei der Throne Niederfahrt</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Sonst sie, die armen Schäfer, sich bewahrt</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Begeisternd hohen Sinn und kräftig Wagen?</em><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Auch hat ihr Kampf für's Gute frucht getragen:</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Weckt nicht ihr Ruhm, die große Denkungsart</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Auch uns den Muth, mit Rechtsgefühl gepaart,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Der nicht zu kaufen ist, nicht zu zernagen?</em><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Schlaft, Kämpfer! Unter euren Bergen ruht!</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Dem strengsten Richter kann es nicht entgehen:</em><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><em class="antiqua">Nie kannte euer <span style="letter-spacing: .25em;">Herz</span> das Retiriren.</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em class="antiqua">Und bricht in höchster Pein und Rachewuth</em><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><em class="antiqua">Europa los, so sollt ihr auferstehen,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><em class="antiqua"><span style="letter-spacing: .25em;">Ganz</span> über euern Feind zu triumphiren!</em><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_474" id="Footnote_B_474"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_474"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> <em class="antiqua">Sonette 2 und 4 sind unbetitelt.</em></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AND_IS_IT_AMONG_RUDE_UNTUTORED" id="AND_IS_IT_AMONG_RUDE_UNTUTORED"></a>"AND IS IT AMONG RUDE UNTUTORED +DALES"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1809<a name="FNanchor_A_477" id="FNanchor_A_477"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_477" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<p>This and the remaining sonnets of 1809 were placed among +those "dedicated to Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And is it among rude untutored Dales,<a name="FNanchor_1_475" id="FNanchor_1_475"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_475" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, and there only, that the heart is true?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, rising to repel or to subdue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it by rocks and woods that man prevails?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah no! though Nature's dread protection fails, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a bulwark in the soul.<a name="FNanchor_2_476" id="FNanchor_2_476"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_476" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></span> This knew<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span><span class="i0">Iberian Burghers when the sword they drew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Zaragoza, naked to the gales<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fiercely-breathing war. The truth was felt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Palafox, and many a brave compeer, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like him of noble birth and noble mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By ladies, meek-eyed women without fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wanderers of the street, to whom is dealt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bread which without industry they find.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Palafox-y-Melzi, Don Joseph (1780-1847), immortalized by +his heroic defence of Saragossa in 1808-9. He was of an old +Aragon family, and entered the Spanish army at an early age. +In 1808, when twenty-nine years of age, he was appointed +governor of Saragossa, by the people of the town, who were +menaced by the French armies. He defended it with a few +men, against immense odds, and compelled the French to +abandon the siege, after sixty-one days' attack, and the loss of +thousands. Saragossa, however, was too important to lose, and +Marshals Mortier and Moncy renewed the siege with a large +army. Palafox (twice defeated outside) retired to the fortress +as before, where the men, women, and children fought in +defence, till the city was almost a heap of ruins. Typhus +attacked the garrison within, while the French army assailed it +from without. Palafox, smitten by the fever, had to give up +the command to another, who signed a capitulation next day. +He was sent a prisoner to Vincennes, and kept there for nearly +five years, till the restoration of Ferdinand VII., when he was +sent back on a secret mission to Madrid. In 1814 he was +appointed Captain-General of Aragon; but for about thirty +years—till his death in 1847—he took no part in public affairs.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_475" id="Footnote_1_475"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_475"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... vales, <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_476" id="Footnote_2_476"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_476"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The word "soul" was <i>italicised</i> in the editions of 1809 to +1832.</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_477" id="Footnote_A_477"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_477"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In Coleridge's <i>Friend</i>, December 21.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="OER_THE_WIDE_EARTH_ON_MOUNTAIN" id="OER_THE_WIDE_EARTH_ON_MOUNTAIN"></a>"O'ER THE WIDE EARTH, ON MOUNTAIN +AND ON PLAIN"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1809<a name="FNanchor_A_478" id="FNanchor_A_478"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_478" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O'er the wide earth, on mountain and on plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dwells in the affections and the soul of man</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">A Godhead, like the universal <span class="smcap">Pan</span>;<a name="FNanchor_B_479" id="FNanchor_B_479"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_479" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But more exalted, with a brighter train:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shall his bounty be dispensed in vain, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showered equally on city and on field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And neither hope nor stedfast promise yield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In these usurping times of fear and pain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such doom awaits us. Nay, forbid it Heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We know the arduous strife, the eternal laws <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which the triumph of all good is given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High sacrifice, and labour without pause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even to the death:—else wherefore should the eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of man converse with immortality?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_478" id="Footnote_A_478"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_478"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In Coleridge's <i>Friend</i>, December 21.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_479" id="Footnote_B_479"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_479"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Compare Aubrey de Vere's <i>Picturesque Sketches of Greece and Turkey</i>, +vol. i. chap. viii. p. 204.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span> +</p><p> +In <i>The Friend</i> (edition 1812), the following footnote occurs— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"... universal Pan,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Knit with the graces and the hours in dance,</span><br /> +<span class="i3">Led on the eternal spring.—<span class="smcap">Milton</span>." <span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="HAIL_ZARAGOZA_IF_WITH_UNWET_EYE" id="HAIL_ZARAGOZA_IF_WITH_UNWET_EYE"></a>"HAIL, ZARAGOZA! IF WITH UNWET EYE"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hail, Zaragoza! If with unwet eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We can approach, thy sorrow to behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet is the heart not pitiless nor cold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such spectacle demands not tear or sigh.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These desolate remains are trophies high <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of more than martial courage in the breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of peaceful civic virtue:<a name="FNanchor_A_481" id="FNanchor_A_481"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_481" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> they attest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy matchless worth to all posterity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood flowed before thy sight without remorse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disease consumed thy vitals; War upheaved <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ground beneath thee with volcanic force:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread trials! yet encountered and sustained</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Till not a wreck of help or hope remained,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And law was from necessity<a name="FNanchor_1_480" id="FNanchor_1_480"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_480" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> received.<a name="FNanchor_B_482" id="FNanchor_B_482"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_482" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>See note to the sonnet beginning "And is it among rude untutored +Dales" (<a href="#Page_222">p. 222</a>). "Saragossa surrendered February 20, +1809, after a heroic defence, which may recall the sieges of +Numantiaor Saguntum. Every street, almost every house, had +been hotly contested; the monks, and even the women, had +taken a conspicuous share in the defence; more than 40,000 +bodies of both sexes and every age testified to the obstinate +courage of the besieged." (See Dyer's <i>History of Modern Europe</i>, +vol. iv. p. 496.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_480" id="Footnote_1_480"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_480"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The word "necessity" was <i>italicised</i> in the editions of 1815 +to 1843.</p></div> +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_481" id="Footnote_A_481"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_481"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare a passage in Wordsworth's Essay <i>Concerning the Convention +of Cintra</i> (1809, pp. 180-1), beginning "Most gloriously have the Citizens of +Saragossa proved that the true army of Spain, in a contest of this nature, is +the whole people."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_482" id="Footnote_B_482"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_482"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> The beginning is imitated from an Italian Sonnet.—W. W. 1815. +</p><p> +In 1837 Wordsworth put it thus, "In this Sonnet I am under some +obligations to one of an Italian author, to which I cannot refer." But it is +to be noted that in the edition of 1837, this note does not refer to the sonnet +on Saragossa, but to that beginning "O, for a kindling touch from that pure +flame," belonging to the year 1816. In subsequent editions the note is reappended +to this sonnet beginning "Hail, Zaragoza!"—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SAY_WHAT_IS_HONOUR_TIS_THE" id="SAY_WHAT_IS_HONOUR_TIS_THE"></a>"SAY, WHAT IS HONOUR?—'TIS THE +FINEST SENSE"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Say, what is Honour?—'Tis the finest sense<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of <i>justice</i> which the human mind can frame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guard the way of life from all offence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suffered or done. When lawless violence <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invades a Realm, so pressed that in the scale<a name="FNanchor_1_483" id="FNanchor_1_483"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_483" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of perilous war her weightiest armies fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honour is hopeful elevation,—whence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glory, and triumph. Yet with politic skill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endangered States may yield to terms unjust; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span><span class="i0">Stoop their proud heads, but not unto the dust—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Foe's most favourite purpose to fulfil:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy occasions oft by self-mistrust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are forfeited; but infamy doth kill.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_483" id="Footnote_1_483"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_483"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">A Kingdom doth assault, and in the scale <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BRAVE_SCHILL_BY_DEATH_DELIVERED" id="BRAVE_SCHILL_BY_DEATH_DELIVERED"></a>"BRAVE SCHILL! BY DEATH DELIVERED, +TAKE THY FLIGHT"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brave Schill! by death delivered, take thy flight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Prussia's timid region. Go, and rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heroes, 'mid the islands of the Blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or in the fields of empyrean light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A meteor wert thou crossing a dark night:<a name="FNanchor_1_484" id="FNanchor_1_484"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_484" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet shall thy name, conspicuous and sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand in the spacious firmament of time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fixed as a star: such glory is thy right.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! it may not be: for earthly fame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is Fortune's frail dependant; yet their lives <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Judge, who, as man claims by merit, gives;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whose all-pondering mind a noble aim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faithfully kept, is as a noble deed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In whose pure sight all virtue doth succeed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Ferdinand von Schill, a distinguished Prussian officer, born +1773, entered the army 1789, was seriously wounded in the +battle of Jena, but took the field again at the head of a free +corps. Indignant at the subjection of his country to Buonaparte, +he resolved to make a great effort for the liberation of Germany, +collected a small body of troops, and commenced operations on +the Elbe; but after a few successes was overpowered and slain +at Stralsund, May 31, 1809. On June 4, 1809, Wordsworth +writing to Daniel Stewart, editor of <i>The Courier</i> newspaper, +says, "Many thanks for the newspaper. Schill is a fine fellow." +The sonnet was doubtless inspired by what he thus heard of +Schill.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_484" id="Footnote_1_484"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_484"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... in a darksome night: <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CALL_NOT_THE_ROYAL_SWEDE" id="CALL_NOT_THE_ROYAL_SWEDE"></a>"CALL NOT THE ROYAL SWEDE +UNFORTUNATE"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Call not the royal Swede unfortunate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who never did to Fortune bend the knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who slighted fear; rejected steadfastly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Temptation; and whose kingly name and state<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have "perished by his choice, and not his fate!" <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence lives He, to his inner self endeared;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hence, wherever virtue is revered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sits a more exalted Potentate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throned in the hearts of men. Should Heaven ordain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That this great Servant of a righteous cause <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must still have sad or vexing thoughts to endure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet may a sympathizing spirit pause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Admonished by these truths, and quench all pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thankful joy and gratulation pure.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The royal Swede, "who never did to Fortune bend the knee," +was Gustavus IV. He abdicated in 1809, and came to London +at the close of the year 1810. Compare the earlier sonnet on +the same King of Sweden (vol. ii. p. 338), beginning—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The Voice of song from distant lands shall call.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the edition of 1827, Wordsworth added the following +note:—"In this and a former Sonnet, in honour of the same +Sovereign, let me be understood as a Poet availing himself of +the situation which the King of Sweden occupied, and of +the principles avowed in his manifestos; as laying hold of +these advantages for the purpose of embodying moral truths. +This remark might, perhaps, as well have been suppressed; +for to those who may be in sympathy with the course of these +Poems, it will be superfluous; and will, I fear, be thrown away +upon that other class, whose besotted admiration of the intoxicated +despot here placed in contrast with him, is the most +melancholy evidence of degradation in British feeling and +intellect which the times have furnished."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="LOOK_NOW_ON_THAT_ADVENTURER_WHO" id="LOOK_NOW_ON_THAT_ADVENTURER_WHO"></a>"LOOK NOW ON THAT ADVENTURER WHO +HATH PAID"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look now on that Adventurer who hath paid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His vows to Fortune; who, in cruel slight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of virtuous hope, of liberty, and right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath followed wheresoe'er a way was made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the blind Goddess,—ruthless, undismayed; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so hath gained at length a prosperous height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round which the elements of worldly might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath his haughty feet, like clouds, are laid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O joyless power that stands by lawless force!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curses are <i>his</i> dire portion, scorn, and hate, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Internal darkness and unquiet breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, if old judgments keep their sacred course,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him from that height shall Heaven precipitate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By violent and ignominious death.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The "Adventurer" who "paid his vows to Fortune," in +contrast to the royal Swede "who never did to Fortune bend +the knee," was of course Napoleon Buonaparte.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IS_THERE_A_POWER_THAT_CAN_SUSTAIN" id="IS_THERE_A_POWER_THAT_CAN_SUSTAIN"></a>"IS THERE A POWER THAT CAN SUSTAIN +AND CHEER"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1809.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is there a power that can sustain and cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The captive chieftain, by a tyrant's doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forced to descend into his destined tomb—<a name="FNanchor_1_485" id="FNanchor_1_485"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_485" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dungeon dark! where he must waste the year,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And lie cut off from all his heart holds dear; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What time his injured country is a stage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereon deliberate Valour and the rage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of righteous Vengeance side by side appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filling from morn to night the heroic scene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With deeds of hope and everlasting praise:— <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say can he think of this with mind serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And silent fetters? Yes, if visions bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shine on his soul, reflected from the days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he himself was tried in open light.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This may refer to Palafox, alluded to in the sonnet (<a href="#Page_222">p. 222</a>) +beginning, "And is it among rude untutored Dales," and in +the one next in order in the series (<a href="#Page_223">p. 223</a>); although, from the +latter sonnet, it would seem that Wordsworth did not know +that Palafox was, in 1809, a prisoner at Vincennes.</p> + +<p>In his edition of the poems published in 1837, Professor +Henry Reed of Philadelphia said, "He must be dull of heart +who, in perusing this series of Poems 'dedicated to Liberty,' +does not feel his affection for his own country—wherever it +may be—and his love of freedom, under whatever form of +government his lot may have been cast—at once invigorated and +chastened into a purer and more thoughtful emotion."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_485" id="Footnote_1_485"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_485"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Forced to descend alive into his tomb, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1815 was re-adopted in 1838; the text of 1840 +returned to that of 1837.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>EPITAPHS TRANSLATED FROM CHIABRERA</h2> + + +<p>[Those from Chiabrera were chiefly translated when Mr. +Coleridge was writing his <i>Friend</i>, in which periodical my +"Essay on Epitaphs," written about that time, was first +published. For further notice of Chiabrera, in connection with +his Epitaphs, see <i>Musings near Aquapendente</i>.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>It is better to print all the Epitaphs from Chiabrera together, +than to spread them out over the years when they were written +or published. Some of them were certainly written in 1809, or +at least before 1810; others at a later date. But it is impossible +to say in what year those published after 1810 were composed. +They are all to be found in the class of "Epitaphs and Elegiac +Pieces."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="WEEP_NOT_BELOVED_FRIENDS" id="WEEP_NOT_BELOVED_FRIENDS"></a>I</h3> + +<h3>"WEEP NOT, BELOVÈD FRIENDS! NOR LET +THE AIR"</h3> + +<p class="center">Published 1837</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Weep not, belovèd Friends! nor let the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For me with sighs be troubled. Not from life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I been taken; this is genuine life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this alone—the life which now I live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In peace eternal; where desire and joy <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together move in fellowship without end.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Francesco Ceni willed that, after death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His tombstone thus should speak for him.<a name="FNanchor_1_486" id="FNanchor_1_486"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_486" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> And surely<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Small cause there is for that fond wish of ours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long to continue in this world; a world <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That keeps not faith, nor yet can point a hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To good, whereof itself is destitute.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_486" id="Footnote_1_486"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_486"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1849. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Francesco Ceni after death enjoined</span><br /> +<span class="var">That thus his tomb should speak for him ... <span class="yearnum">1837.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="PERHAPS_SOME_NEEDFUL_SERVICE" id="PERHAPS_SOME_NEEDFUL_SERVICE"></a>II</h3> + +<h3>"PERHAPS SOME NEEDFUL SERVICE OF +THE STATE"</h3> + +<p class="center">Published 1810<a name="FNanchor_A_490" id="FNanchor_A_490"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_490" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Perhaps some needful service of the State<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew <span class="smcap">Titus</span> from the depth of studious bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And doomed him to contend in faithless courts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where gold determines between right and wrong.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Yet did at length his loyalty of heart, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his pure native genius, lead him back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wait upon the bright and gracious Muses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom he had early loved. And not in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such course he held! Bologna's learned schools<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were gladdened by the Sage's voice, and hung <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fondness on those sweet Nestorian strains.<a name="FNanchor_1_487" id="FNanchor_1_487"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_487" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There pleasure crowned his days; and all his thoughts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A roseate fragrance breathed.<a name="FNanchor_2_488" id="FNanchor_2_488"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_488" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><a name="FNanchor_B_491" id="FNanchor_B_491"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_491" class="fnanchor">[B]</a>—O human life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That never art secure from dolorous change!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold a high injunction suddenly <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Arno's side hath brought him,<a name="FNanchor_3_489" id="FNanchor_3_489"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_489" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and he charmed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Tuscan audience: but full soon was called<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the perpetual silence of the grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mourn, Italy, the loss of him who stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Champion stedfast and invincible, <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To quell the rage of literary War!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_487" id="Footnote_1_487"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_487"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... Nestrian <span class="yearnum">1810.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_488" id="Footnote_2_488"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_488"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">There did he live content; and all his thoughts</span><br /> +<span class="var">Were blithe as vernal flowers.— <span class="yearnum">1810.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_489" id="Footnote_3_489"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_489"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">To Arno's side conducts him, <span class="yearnum">1810.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_490" id="Footnote_A_490"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_490"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, February 22.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_491" id="Footnote_B_491"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_491"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ivi vivea giocondo ei suoi pensieri</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Erano tutti rose.</span> +</div></div><p> +The Translator had not skill to come nearer to his original.—W. W. 1815.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="III" id="III"></a><a name="O_THOU_WHO_MOVEST_ONWARD" id="O_THOU_WHO_MOVEST_ONWARD"></a>III</h3> + +<h3>"O THOU WHO MOVEST ONWARD WITH A +MIND"</h3> + +<p class="center">Published 1810<a name="FNanchor_A_493" id="FNanchor_A_493"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_493" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Thou who movest onward with a mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intent upon thy way, pause, though in haste!</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">'Twill be no fruitless moment. I was born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within Savona's walls, of gentle blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Tiber's banks my youth was dedicate <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sacred studies; and the Roman Shepherd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave to my charge Urbino's numerous flock.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well<a name="FNanchor_1_492" id="FNanchor_1_492"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_492" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> did I watch, much laboured, nor had power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To escape from many and strange indignities;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was smitten by the great ones of the world, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But did not fall; for Virtue braves all shocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon herself resting immoveably.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me did a kindlier fortune then invite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To serve the glorious Henry, King of France,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in his hands I saw a high reward <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stretched out for my acceptance,—but Death came.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, Reader, learn from this my fate, how false,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How treacherous to her promise, is the world;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trust in God—to whose eternal doom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must bend the sceptred Potentates of earth. <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_492" id="Footnote_1_492"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_492"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Much ... <span class="yearnum">1810.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_493" id="Footnote_A_493"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_493"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, February 22.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="IV" id="IV"></a><a name="THERE_NEVER_BREATHED_A_MAN" id="THERE_NEVER_BREATHED_A_MAN"></a>IV</h3> + +<h3>"THERE NEVER BREATHED A MAN WHO, +WHEN HIS LIFE"</h3> + +<p class="center">Published 1809<a name="FNanchor_A_497" id="FNanchor_A_497"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_497" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There never breathed a man who, when his life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was closing, might not of that life relate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toils long and hard.—The warrior will report<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wounds, and bright swords flashing in the field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blast of trumpets. He who hath been doomed <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bow his forehead in the courts of kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will tell of fraud and never-ceasing hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Envy and heart-inquietude, derived</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">From intricate cabals of treacherous friends.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, who on shipboard lived from earliest youth, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could represent the countenance horrible<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the vexed waters, and the indignant rage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Auster and Boötes. Fifty<a name="FNanchor_1_494" id="FNanchor_1_494"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_494" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the well-steered galleys did I rule:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From huge Pelorus to the Atlantic pillars, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rises no mountain to mine eyes unknown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the broad gulfs I traversed oft and oft:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of every cloud which in the heavens might stir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I knew the force; and hence the rough sea's pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Availed not to my Vessel's overthrow. <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What noble pomp and frequent have not I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On regal decks beheld! yet in the end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I learned<a name="FNanchor_2_495" id="FNanchor_2_495"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_495" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> that one poor moment can suffice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To equalise the lofty and the low.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We sail the sea of life—a <i>Calm</i> One finds, <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And One a <i>Tempest</i>—and, the voyage o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death is the quiet haven of us all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If more of my condition ye would know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Savona was my birth-place, and I sprang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of noble parents: seventy<a name="FNanchor_3_496" id="FNanchor_3_496"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_496" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> years and three <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lived I—then yielded to a slow disease.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_494" id="Footnote_1_494"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_494"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... Forty <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_495" id="Footnote_2_495"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_495"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1832. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">I learn ... <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_496" id="Footnote_3_496"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_496"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... sixty ... <span class="yearnum">1809.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_497" id="Footnote_A_497"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_497"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, December 28.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="V" id="V"></a><a name="TRUE_IS_IT_THAT_AMBROSIO_SALINERO" id="TRUE_IS_IT_THAT_AMBROSIO_SALINERO"></a>V</h3> + +<h3>"TRUE IS IT THAT AMBROSIO SALINERO"</h3> + +<p class="center">Published 1837</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">True is it that Ambrosio Salinero<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With an untoward fate was long involved</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">In odious litigation; and full long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fate harder still! had he to endure assaults<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of racking malady. And true it is <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That not the less a frank courageous heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And buoyant spirit triumphed over pain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he was strong to follow in the steps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the fair Muses. Not a covert path<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leads to the dear Parnassian forest's shade, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That might from him be hidden; not a track<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mounts to pellucid Hippocrene, but he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had traced its windings.—This Savona knows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet no sepulchral honours to her Son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She paid, for in our age the heart is ruled <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only by gold. And now a simple stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inscribed with this memorial here is raised<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his bereft, his lonely, Chiabrera.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think not, O Passenger! who read'st the lines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That an exceeding love hath dazzled me; <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No—he was One whose memory ought to spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where'er Permessus bears an honoured name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And live as long as its pure stream shall flow.<a name="FNanchor_A_498" id="FNanchor_A_498"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_498" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_498" id="Footnote_A_498"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_498"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare S. T. Coleridge's poem, <i>A Tombless Epitaph</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="DESTINED_TO_WAR_FROM_VERY_INFANCY" id="DESTINED_TO_WAR_FROM_VERY_INFANCY"></a>VI</h3> + +<h3>"DESTINED TO WAR FROM VERY INFANCY"</h3> + +<p class="center">Published 1809<a name="FNanchor_A_499" id="FNanchor_A_499"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_499" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Destined to war from very infancy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was I, Roberto Dati, and I took<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Malta the white symbol of the Cross:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor in life's vigorous season did I shun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hazard or toil; among the sands was seen <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Libya; and not seldom, on the banks</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of wide Hungarian Danube, 'twas my lot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear the sanguinary trumpet sounded.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So lived I, and repined not at such fate:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This only grieves me, for it seems a wrong, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stripped of arms I to my end am brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the soft down of my paternal home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet haply Arno shall be spared all cause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To blush for me. Thou, loiter not nor halt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thy appointed way, and bear in mind <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How fleeting and how frail is human life!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_499" id="Footnote_A_499"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_499"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, December 28.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="VII" id="VII"></a><a name="O_FLOWER_OF_ALL_THAT_SPRINGS" id="O_FLOWER_OF_ALL_THAT_SPRINGS"></a>VII</h3> + +<h3>"O FLOWER OF ALL THAT SPRINGS FROM +GENTLE BLOOD"</h3> + +<p class="center">Published 1837</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O flower of all that springs from gentle blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all that generous nurture breeds to make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth amiable; O friend so true of soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fair Aglaia; by what envy moved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lelius! has death cut short thy brilliant day <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In its sweet opening? and what dire mishap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has from Savona torn her best delight?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thee she mourns, nor e'er will cease to mourn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, should the out-pourings of her eyes suffice not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For her heart's grief, she will entreat Sebeto <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to withhold his bounteous aid, Sebeto<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who saw thee, on his margin, yield to death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the chaste arms of thy belovèd Love!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What profit riches? what does youth avail?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dust are our hopes;—I, weeping bitterly, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Penned these sad lines, nor can forbear to pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That every gentle Spirit hither led<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May read them not without some bitter tears.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a><a name="NOT_WITHOUT_HEAVY_GRIEF_OF_HEART" id="NOT_WITHOUT_HEAVY_GRIEF_OF_HEART"></a>VIII</h3> + +<h3>"NOT WITHOUT HEAVY GRIEF OF HEART +DID HE"</h3> + +<p class="center">Published 1810<a name="FNanchor_A_500" id="FNanchor_A_500"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_500" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not without heavy grief of heart did He<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On whom the duty fell (for at that time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The father sojourned in a distant land)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deposit in the hollow of this tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A brother's Child, most tenderly beloved! <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Francesco</span> was the name the Youth had borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Pozzobonnelli</span> his illustrious house;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, when beneath this stone the Corse was laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eyes of all Savona streamed with tears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! the twentieth April of his life <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had scarcely flowered: and at this early time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By genuine virtue he inspired a hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That greatly cheered his country: to his kin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He promised comfort; and the flattering thoughts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His friends had in their fondness entertained,<a name="FNanchor_B_501" id="FNanchor_B_501"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_501" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He suffered not to languish or decay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now is there not good reason to break forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a passionate lament?—O Soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Short while a Pilgrim in our nether world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do thou enjoy the calm empyreal air; <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round this earthly tomb let roses rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An everlasting spring! in memory<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that delightful fragrance which was once<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From thy mild manners quietly exhaled.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_500" id="Footnote_A_500"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_500"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, January 4.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_501" id="Footnote_B_501"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_501"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> In justice to the Author I subjoin the original— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6h">... e degli amici</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Non lasciava languire i bei pensieri.—W. W. 1815.</span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="IX" id="IX"></a><a name="PAUSE_COURTEOUS_SPIRIT" id="PAUSE_COURTEOUS_SPIRIT"></a>IX</h3> + +<h3>"PAUSE, COURTEOUS SPIRIT!—BALBI +SUPPLICATES"<a name="FNanchor_A_505" id="FNanchor_A_505"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_505" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h3> + +<p class="center">Published 1810<a name="FNanchor_B_506" id="FNanchor_B_506"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_506" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pause, courteous Spirit!—Balbi supplicates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Thou, with no reluctant voice, for him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here laid in mortal darkness, wouldst prefer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A prayer to the Redeemer of the world.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This to the dead by sacred right belongs; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All else is nothing.—Did occasion suit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell his worth, the marble of this tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would ill suffice: for Plato's lore sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the wisdom of the Stagyrite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enriched and beautified his studious mind: <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Archimedes also he conversed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with a chosen friend; nor did he leave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those laureat wreaths ungathered which the Nymphs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twine near their loved Permessus.<a name="FNanchor_1_502" id="FNanchor_1_502"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_502" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>—Finally,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himself above each lower thought uplifting, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His ears he closed to listen to the songs<a name="FNanchor_2_503" id="FNanchor_2_503"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_503" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which Sion's Kings did consecrate of old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his Permessus found on Lebanon.<a name="FNanchor_3_504" id="FNanchor_3_504"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_504" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A blessèd Man! who of protracted days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made not, as thousands do, a vulgar sleep; <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span><span class="i0">But truly did <i>He</i> live his life. Urbino,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take pride in him!—O Passenger, farewell!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I have been unable to obtain any definite information in +reference to the persons commemorated in these epitaphs by +Chiabrera: Francesco Ceni, Titus, Ambrosio Salinero, Roberto +Dati, Lelius, Francesco Pozzobonnelli, and Balbi. Mr. W. +M. Rossetti writes to me that he "supposes all the men named +by Chiabrera to be such as enjoyed a certain local and temporary +reputation, which has hardly passed down to any sort of posterity, +and certainly not to the ordinary English reader."</p> + +<p>Chiabrera was born at Savona on the 8th of June 1552, and +educated at Rome. He entered the service of Cardinal Cornaro, +married in his 50th year, lived to the age of 85, and died +October 14, 1637. His poetical faculty showed itself late. +"Having commenced to read the Greek writers at home, he +conceived a great admiration for Pindar, and strove successfully +to imitate him. He was not less happy in catching the naïve +and pleasant spirit of Anacreon; his canzonetti being distinguished +for their ease and elegance, while his <i>Lettere Famigliari</i> +was the first attempt to introduce the poetical epistle into +Italian Literature. He wrote also several epics, bucolics, and +dramatic poems. His <i>Opere</i> appeared at Venice, in 6 vols., in +1768."</p> + +<p>Wordsworth says of him, in his <i>Essay on Epitaphs</i>, where +translations of two of those Epitaphs of Chiabrera first appeared +(see <i>The Friend</i>, February 22, 1810, and notes to <i>The Excursion</i>)—"His +life was long, and every part of it bore appropriate +fruits. Urbino, his birth-place, might be proud of him, and +the passenger who was entreated to pray for his soul has a wish +breathed for his welfare.... The Epitaphs of Chiabrera are +twenty-nine in number, and all of them, save two, upon men +probably little known at this day in their own country, and +scarcely at all beyond the limits of it; and the reader is +generally made acquainted with the moral and intellectual +excellence which distinguished them by a brief history of the +course of their lives, or a selection of events and circumstances, +and thus they are individualized; but in the two other instances, +namely, in those of Tasso and Raphael, he enters into no +particulars, but contents himself with four lines expressing one +sentiment, upon the principle laid down in the former part of +this discourse, when the subject of the epitaph is a man of +prime note...."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>Compare the poem <i>Musings near Aquapendente</i>. In reference +to the places referred to in these Epitaphs of Chiabrera, it +may be mentioned that Savona (Epitaphs <a href="#III"><span class="allcapsc">III.</span></a>, <a href="#IV"><span class="allcapsc">IV.</span></a>, <a href="#V"><span class="allcapsc">V.</span></a>, <a href="#VII"><span class="allcapsc">VII.</span></a>, <a href="#VIII"><span class="allcapsc">VIII.</span></a>) +is a town in the Genovese territory; Permessus (Epitaphs <a href="#V"><span class="allcapsc">V.</span></a> +and <a href="#IX"><span class="allcapsc">IX.</span></a>) a river of Bœotia, rising in Mount Helicon and flowing +round it, hence sacred to the Muses; and that the fountain +of Hippocrene—also referred to in Epitaph <a href="#V"><span class="allcapsc">V.</span></a>—was not far +distant. Sebeto (Epitaph <a href="#VII"><span class="allcapsc">VII.</span></a>), now cape Faro, is a Sicilian +promontory.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_502" id="Footnote_1_502"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_502"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Twine on the top of Pindus.— ... <span class="yearnum">1810.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_503" id="Footnote_2_503"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_503"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... Song <span class="yearnum">1810.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_504" id="Footnote_3_504"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_504"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And fixed his Pindus upon Lebanon. <span class="yearnum">1810.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_505" id="Footnote_A_505"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_505"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Wordsworth's extended commentary on this sonnet in his <i>Essay on +Epitaphs</i> (see his "Prose Works" in this edition), should here be referred to.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_506" id="Footnote_B_506"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_506"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> In <i>The Friend</i>, January 4.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Year_1810" id="Year_1810"></a>1810</h2> + + +<p>As indicated in the editorial note to the poems belonging to +the year 1809, those of 1810 were mainly sonnets, suggested +by the events occurring on the Continent of Europe, and the +patriotic efforts of the Spaniards to resist Napoleon. I have +assigned the two referring to Flamininus, entitled <a href="#ON_A_CELEBRATED_EVENT_IN_ANCIENT"><i>On a +Celebrated Event in Ancient History</i></a>, to the same year. They +were first published in 1815, and seem to have been due to +the same impulse which led Wordsworth to write the "Sonnets +dedicated to Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AH_WHERE_IS_PALAFOX_NOR_TONGUE" id="AH_WHERE_IS_PALAFOX_NOR_TONGUE"></a>"AH! WHERE IS PALAFOX? NOR TONGUE +NOR PEN"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>All the sonnets of 1810 were "dedicated to Liberty." In +every edition this poem had for its title the date <i>1810</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! where is Palafox? Nor tongue nor pen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reports of him, his dwelling or his grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does yet the unheard-of vessel ride the wave?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is she swallowed up, remote from ken<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pitying human-nature? Once again <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methinks that we shall hail thee, Champion brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Redeemed to baffle that imperial Slave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through all Europe cheer desponding men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With new-born hope. Unbounded is the might</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of martyrdom, and fortitude, and right. <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, how thy Country triumphs!—Smilingly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eternal looks upon her sword that gleams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like his own lightning, over mountains high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On rampart, and the banks of all her streams.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>See notes to sonnets (pp. <a href="#Page_223">223</a> and <a href="#Page_229">229</a>).—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IN_DUE_OBSERVANCE_OF_AN_ANCIENT" id="IN_DUE_OBSERVANCE_OF_AN_ANCIENT"></a>"IN DUE OBSERVANCE OF AN ANCIENT +RITE"</h2> + + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In due observance of an ancient rite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rude Biscayans, when their children lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead in the sinless time of infancy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attire the peaceful corse in vestments white;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in like sign of cloudless triumph bright, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They bind the unoffending creature's brows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With happy garlands of the pure white rose:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then do<a name="FNanchor_1_507" id="FNanchor_1_507"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_507" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> a festal company unite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In choral song; and, while the uplifted cross<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Jesus goes before, the child is borne <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uncovered to his grave: 'tis closed,—her loss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Mother <i>then</i> mourns, as she needs must mourn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But soon, through Christian faith, is grief subdued;<a name="FNanchor_2_508" id="FNanchor_2_508"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_508" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joy returns, to brighten fortitude.<a name="FNanchor_3_509" id="FNanchor_3_509"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_509" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_507" id="Footnote_1_507"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_507"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">This done, ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_508" id="Footnote_2_508"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_508"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Uncovered to his grave.—Her piteous loss</span><br /> +<span class="var">The lonesome Mother cannot chuse but mourn;</span><br /> +<span class="var">Yet soon by Christian faith is grief subdued, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_509" id="Footnote_3_509"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_509"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1838. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And joy attends upon her fortitude. <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Or joy returns to brighten fortitude. <span class="yearnum">1837.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="FEELINGS_OF_A_NOBLE_BISCAYAN_AT_ONE" id="FEELINGS_OF_A_NOBLE_BISCAYAN_AT_ONE"></a>FEELINGS OF A NOBLE BISCAYAN AT ONE +OF THOSE FUNERALS, 1810</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, yet, Biscayans! we must meet our Foes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With firmer soul, yet labour to regain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our ancient freedom; else 'twere worse than vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gather round the bier these festal shows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A garland fashioned of the pure white rose <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Becomes not one whose father is a slave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, bear the infant covered to his grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These venerable mountains now enclose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A people sunk in apathy and fear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If this endure, farewell, for us, all good! <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The awful light of heavenly innocence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will fail to illuminate the infant's bier;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guilt and shame, from which is no defence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Descend on all that issues from our blood.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ON_A_CELEBRATED_EVENT_IN_ANCIENT" id="ON_A_CELEBRATED_EVENT_IN_ANCIENT"></a>ON A CELEBRATED EVENT IN ANCIENT +HISTORY</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Roman Master stands on Grecian ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the people at the Isthmian Games<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assembled, He, by a herald's voice, proclaims<a name="FNanchor_1_510" id="FNanchor_1_510"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_510" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Liberty of Greece</span>:—the words rebound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until all voices in one voice are drowned; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span><span class="i0">Glad acclamation by which air was<a name="FNanchor_2_511" id="FNanchor_2_511"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_511" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> rent!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And birds, high flying in the element,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dropped<a name="FNanchor_3_512" id="FNanchor_3_512"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_512" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> to the earth, astonished at the sound!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet were the thoughtful grieved; and still that voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haunts, with sad echoes, musing Fancy's ear:<a name="FNanchor_4_513" id="FNanchor_4_513"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_513" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! that a <i>Conqueror's</i> words<a name="FNanchor_5_514" id="FNanchor_5_514"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_514" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> should be so dear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! that a <i>boon</i> could shed such rapturous joys!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gift of that which is not to be given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all the blended powers of Earth and Heaven.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This "Roman Master" "on Grecian ground" was T. +Quintius Flamininus, one of the ablest and noblest of the +Roman generals (230-174 <span class="allcapsc">B.C.</span>). He was successful against +Philip of Macedon, overran Thessaly in 198, and conquered the +Macedonian army in 197, defeating Philip at Cynoscephalæ. +He concluded a peace with the vanquished. "In the spring of +196, the Roman commission arrived in Greece to arrange, +conjointly with Flamininus, the affairs of the country: they also +brought with them the terms on which a definite peace was to +be concluded with Philip.... The Ætolians exerted themselves +to excite suspicions among the Greeks as to the sincerity of the +Romans in their dealings with them. Flamininus, however, +insisted upon immediate compliance with the terms of the +peace.... In this summer, the Isthmian games were celebrated +at Corinth, and thousands from all parts of Greece flocked +thither. Flamininus, accompanied by the ten commissioners, +entered the assembly, and, at his command, a herald, in name +of the Roman Senate, proclaimed the freedom and independence +of Greece. The joy and enthusiasm at this unexpected declaration<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +was beyond all description: the throngs of people that +crowded around Flamininus to catch a sight of their liberator or +touch his garment were so enormous, that even his life was +endangered." (Smith's <i>Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography</i>: +Art. Flamininus, No. 4.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_510" id="Footnote_1_510"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_510"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">And to the Concourse of the Isthmian Games</span><br /> +<span class="var">He, by his Herald's voice, aloud proclaims <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_511" id="Footnote_2_511"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_511"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... is ... <span class="yearnum">1838.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1840 returns to that of 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_512" id="Footnote_3_512"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_512"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Drop ... <span class="yearnum">1838.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1840 returns to that of 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_513" id="Footnote_4_513"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_513"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var13">... at the sound!</span><br /> +<span class="var">—A melancholy Echo of that noise</span><br /> +<span class="var">Doth sometimes hang on musing Fancy's ear: <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_514" id="Footnote_5_514"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_514"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... word ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1837 returns to that of 1815.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="UPON_THE_SAME_EVENT" id="UPON_THE_SAME_EVENT"></a>UPON THE SAME EVENT</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed (probably) 1810.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, far and wide, swift as the beams of morn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tidings passed of servitude repealed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of that joy which shook the Isthmian Field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rough Ætolians smiled with bitter scorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'Tis known," cried they, "that he, who would adorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His envied temples with the Isthmian crown, <span class="linenum">6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must either win, through effort of his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prize, or be content to see it worn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By more deserving brows.—Yet so ye prop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sons of the brave who fought at Marathon, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your feeble spirits! Greece her head hath bowed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the wreath of liberty thereon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would fix itself as smoothly as a cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, at Jove's will, descends on Pelion's top."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The Ætolians were the only Greeks that entertained suspicion +of the Roman designs from the first. When Flamininus was +wintering in Phocis in 196, and an insurrection broke out at +Opus, some of the citizens had called in the aid of the Ætolians +against the Macedonian garrison; but the gates of the city were +not opened to admit the Ætolian volunteers till Flamininus +arrived. Then in the battle at the heights of Cynoscephalæ, +where the Macedonian army was routed, the Ætolian contingent, +which had helped Flamininus, claimed the sole credit of the +victory; and wished no truce made with Philip, as they were +bent on the destruction of the Macedonian power. The Ætolians +aimed subsequently at exciting suspicion against the sincerity of +Flamininus. In the second sonnet, Wordsworth's sympathy +seems to have been with the Ætolians, as much as it was with +the Swiss and the Tyrolese in their attitude to Buonaparte. But +Flamininus was not a Napoleon.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_OAK_OF_GUERNICA" id="THE_OAK_OF_GUERNICA"></a>THE OAK OF GUERNICA</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1815</p> + +<p class="hang">The ancient oak of Guernica, says Laborde in his account of +Biscay, is a most venerable natural monument. Ferdinand +and Isabella, in the year 1476, after hearing mass in the +church of Santa Maria de la Antigua, repaired to this tree, +under which they swore to the Biscayans to maintain their +<i>fueros</i> (privileges). What other interest belongs to it in +the minds of this people will appear from the following</p> + +<p class="blockquotx">SUPPOSED ADDRESS TO THE SAME. 1810</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oak of Guernica! Tree of holier power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than that which in Dodona did enshrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(So faith too fondly deemed) a voice divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard from the depths of its aërial bower—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How canst thou flourish at this blighting hour? <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What hope, what joy can sunshine bring to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the soft breezes from the Atlantic sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dews of morn, or April's tender shower?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stroke merciful and welcome would that be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which should extend thy branches on the ground, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If never more within their shady round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those lofty-minded Lawgivers shall meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peasant and lord, in their appointed seat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guardians of Biscay's ancient liberty.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Prophetic power was believed to reside within the grove +which surrounded the temple of Jupiter near Dodona, in Epirus, +and oracles were given forth from the boughs of the sacred oak.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="INDIGNATION_OF_A_HIGH-MINDED" id="INDIGNATION_OF_A_HIGH-MINDED"></a>INDIGNATION OF A HIGH-MINDED +SPANIARD, 1810</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We can endure that He should waste our lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Despoil our temples, and by sword and flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Return us to the dust from which we came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such food a Tyrant's appetite demands:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we can brook the thought that by his hands <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spain may be overpowered, and he possess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For his delight, a solemn wilderness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where all the brave lie dead. But, when of bands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which he will break for us he dares to speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of benefits, and of a future day <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When our enlightened minds shall bless his sway;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Then</i>, the strained heart of fortitude proves weak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our groans, our blushes, our pale cheeks declare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he has power to inflict what we lack strength to bear.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Compare the two sonnets <a href="#ON_A_CELEBRATED_EVENT_IN_ANCIENT"><i>On a Celebrated Event in Ancient +History</i></a> (<a href="#ON_A_CELEBRATED_EVENT_IN_ANCIENT">pp. 242-44</a>). The following note to the last line of +this sonnet occurs in Professor Reed's American edition of the +Poems:—"The student of English poetry will call to mind +Cowley's impassioned expression of the indignation of a Briton +under the depression of disasters somewhat similar.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Let rather Roman come again,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Or Saxon, Norman, or the Dane:</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In all the bonds we ever bore,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">We grieved, we sighed, we wept, <i>we never blushed before</i>."</span> +</div></div> + +<p>See Cowley's <i>Discourse on the Government of Oliver Cromwell</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="AVAUNT_ALL_SPECIOUS_PLIANCY_OF" id="AVAUNT_ALL_SPECIOUS_PLIANCY_OF"></a>"AVAUNT ALL SPECIOUS PLIANCY OF +MIND"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Avaunt all specious pliancy of mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In men of low degree, all smooth pretence!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I better like a blunt indifference,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And self-respecting slowness, disinclined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To win me at first sight: and be there joined <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Patience and temperance with this high reserve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honour that knows the path and will not swerve;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Affections, which, if put to proof, are kind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And piety towards God. Such men of old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were England's native growth; and, throughout Spain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Thanks to high God) forests of such remain:<a name="FNanchor_1_515" id="FNanchor_1_515"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_515" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> <span class="linenum">11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then for that Country let our hopes be bold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For matched with these shall policy prove vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her arts, her strength, her iron, and her gold.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_515" id="Footnote_1_515"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_515"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Forests of such do at this day remain; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="OERWEENING_STATESMEN_HAVE_FULL" id="OERWEENING_STATESMEN_HAVE_FULL"></a>"O'ERWEENING STATESMEN HAVE FULL +LONG RELIED"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1815</p> + +<p>In all the editions this poem has for its title the date <i>1810</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O'erweening Statesmen have full long relied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On fleets and armies, and external wealth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But from <i>within</i> proceeds a Nation's health;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shall not fail, though poor men cleave with pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the paternal floor; or turn aside, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the thronged city, from the walks of gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As being all unworthy to detain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Soul by contemplation sanctified.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are who cannot languish in this strife,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Spaniards of every rank, by whom the good <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of such high course was felt and understood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who to their Country's cause have bound a life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erewhile, by solemn consecration, given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To labour, and to prayer, to nature, and to heaven.<a name="FNanchor_A_516" id="FNanchor_A_516"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_516" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_516" id="Footnote_A_516"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_516"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> See Laborde's Character of the Spanish People; from him the sentiment +of these two last lines is taken.—W. W. 1815.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_FRENCH_AND_THE_SPANISH" id="THE_FRENCH_AND_THE_SPANISH"></a>THE FRENCH AND THE SPANISH +GUERILLAS</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1815</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hunger, and sultry heat, and nipping blast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From bleak hill-top, and length of march by night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through heavy swamp, or over snow-clad height—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These hardships ill-sustained, these dangers past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The roving Spanish Bands are reached at last, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charged, and dispersed like foam: but as a flight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of scattered quails by signs do reunite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So these,—and, heard of once again, are chased<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With combinations of long-practised art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And newly-kindled hope; but they are fled— <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone are they, viewless as the buried dead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where now?—Their sword is at the Foeman's heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus from year to year his walk they thwart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hang like dreams around his guilty bed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>See the note appended to the sonnet entitled <a href="#SPANISH_GUERILLAS_1811"><i>Spanish +Guerillas</i></a> (<a href="#Page_254">p. 254</a>).—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MATERNAL_GRIEF" id="MATERNAL_GRIEF"></a>MATERNAL GRIEF</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1810.—Published 1842</p> + + +<p>[This was in part an overflow from the Solitary's description +of his own and his wife's feelings upon the decease of their +children. (See <i>Excursion</i>, book 3rd.)—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span><span class="i0">Departed Child! I could forget thee once<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though at my bosom nursed; this woeful gain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy dissolution brings, that in my soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is present and perpetually abides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shadow, never, never to be displaced <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the returning substance, seen or touched,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen by mine eyes, or clasped in my embrace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Absence and death how differ they! and how<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I admit that nothing can restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What one short sigh so easily removed?— <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death, life, and sleep, reality and thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assist me, God, their boundaries to know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O teach me calm submission to thy Will!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Child she mourned had overstepped the pale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Infancy, but still did breathe the air <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sanctifies its confines, and partook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reflected beams of that celestial light<a name="FNanchor_A_517" id="FNanchor_A_517"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_517" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all the Little-ones on sinful earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not unvouchsafed—a light that warmed and cheered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those several qualities of heart and mind <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, in her own blest nature, rooted deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daily before the Mother's watchful eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not hers only, their peculiar charms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unfolded,—beauty, for its present self,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for its promises to future years, <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With not unfrequent rapture fondly hailed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Have you espied upon a dewy lawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pair of Leverets each provoking each<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a continuance of their fearless sport,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two separate Creatures in their several gifts <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abounding, but so fashioned that, in all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Nature prompts them to display, their looks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their starts of motion and their fits of rest,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">An undistinguishable style appears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And character of gladness, as if Spring <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lodged in their innocent bosoms, and the spirit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the rejoicing morning were their own?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such union, in the lovely Girl maintained<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her twin Brother, had the parent seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere, pouncing like a ravenous bird of prey, <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death in a moment parted them, and left<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Mother, in her turns of anguish, worse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than desolate; for oft-times from the sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the survivor's sweetest voice (dear child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knew it not) and from his happiest looks, <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did she extract the food of self-reproach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one that lived ungrateful for the stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Heaven afforded to uphold her maimed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tottering spirit. And full oft the Boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now first acquainted with distress and grief, <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrunk from his Mother's presence, shunned with fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sad approach, and stole away to find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his known haunts of joy where'er he might,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A more congenial object. But, as time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softened her pangs and reconciled the child <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To what he saw, he gradually returned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a scared Bird encouraged to renew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A broken intercourse; and, while his eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were yet with pensive fear and gentle awe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turned upon her who bore him, she would stoop <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To imprint a kiss that lacked not power to spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint colour over both their pallid cheeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stilled his tremulous lip. Thus they were calmed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cheered; and now together breathe fresh air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In open fields; and when the glare of day <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is gone, and twilight to the Mother's wish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Befriends the observance, readily they join<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In walks whose boundary is the lost One's grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which he with flowers hath planted, finding there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amusement, where the Mother does not miss <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span><span class="i0">Dear consolation, kneeling on the turf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In prayer, yet blending with that solemn rite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pious faith the vanities of grief;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For such, by pitying Angels and by Spirits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Transferred to regions upon which the clouds <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of our weak nature rest not, must be deemed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those willing tears, and unforbidden sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all those tokens of a cherished sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, soothed and sweetened by the grace of Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As now it is, seems to her own fond heart, <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immortal as the love that gave it being.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_517" id="Footnote_A_517"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_517"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare the <i>Ode, Intimations of Immortality</i>, l. 4, and <i>passim</i> (vol. +viii.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Year_1811" id="Year_1811"></a>1811</h2> + + +<p>In the spring of 1811 Wordsworth left Allan Bank, to reside +for two years in the Rectory, Grasmere. A small fragment on +his daughter Catherine, the <a href="#EPISTLE"><i>Epistle to Sir George Beaumont, Bart., +from the south-west coast of Cumberland</i></a>, the lines <a href="#TO_THE_POET_JOHN_DYER"><i>To the Poet, +John Dyer</i></a>, and four sonnets (mainly suggested by the events +of the year in Spain) comprise all the poems belonging to +1811.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHARACTERISTICS_OF_A_CHILD_THREE" id="CHARACTERISTICS_OF_A_CHILD_THREE"></a>CHARACTERISTICS OF A CHILD THREE +YEARS OLD</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1811.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>[Written at Allanbank, Grasmere. Picture of my daughter, +Catherine, who died the year after.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Classed among the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loving she is, and tractable, though wild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Innocence hath privilege in her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feats of cunning; and the pretty round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of trespasses, affected to provoke <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mock-chastisement and partnership in play.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not less if unattended and alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than when both young and old sit gathered round</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And take delight in its activity; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even so this happy Creature of herself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is all-sufficient; solitude to her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is blithe society, who fills the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gladness and involuntary songs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light are her sallies as the tripping fawn's <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth-startled from the fern where she lay couched;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unthought-of, unexpected, as the stir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the soft breeze ruffling the meadow-flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or from before it chasing wantonly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The many-coloured images imprest <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the bosom of a placid lake.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>On February 28, 1810, Dorothy Wordsworth wrote to Lady +Beaumont, "Catherine is the only funny child in the family; +the rest of the children are <i>lively</i>, but Catherine is comical in +every look and motion. Thomas perpetually forces a tender +smile by his simplicity, but Catherine makes you laugh outright, +though she can hardly say a dozen words, and she joins in the +laugh, as if sensible of the drollery of her appearance."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SPANISH_GUERILLAS_1811" id="SPANISH_GUERILLAS_1811"></a>SPANISH GUERILLAS, 1811</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1811.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>Classed among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They seek, are sought; to daily battle led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrink not, though far outnumbered by their Foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For they have learnt to open and to close<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ridges of grim war;<a name="FNanchor_A_518" id="FNanchor_A_518"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_518" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> and at their head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are captains such as erst their country bred <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or fostered, self-supported chiefs,—like those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom hardy Rome was fearful to oppose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose desperate shock the Carthaginian fled.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">In One who lived unknown a shepherd's life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Redoubted Viriatus breathes again;<a name="FNanchor_B_519" id="FNanchor_B_519"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_519" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Mina, nourished in the studious shade,<a name="FNanchor_C_520" id="FNanchor_C_520"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_520" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that great Leader<a name="FNanchor_D_521" id="FNanchor_D_521"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_521" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> vies, who, sick of strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bloodshed, longed in quiet to be laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In some green island of the western main.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_518" id="Footnote_A_518"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_518"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare <i>Paradise Lost</i>, book vi. ll. 235-36— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">and when to close</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The ridges of grim war.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_519" id="Footnote_B_519"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_519"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Viriatus, for eight or fourteen years leader of the Lusitanians in the war +with the Romans in the middle of the second century <span class="allcapsc">B.C.</span> He defeated many +of the Roman generals, including Q. Pompeius. Some of the historians say +that he was originally a shepherd, and then a robber or guerilla chieftain. +(See Livy, books 52 and 54.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_520" id="Footnote_C_520"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_520"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> "Whilst the chief force of the French was occupied in Portugal and +Andalusia, and there remained in the interior of Spain only a few weak +corps, the Guerilla system took deep root, and in the course of 1811 attained +its greatest perfection. Left to itself the boldest and most enterprising of its +members rose to command, and the mode of warfare best adapted to their +force and habits was pursued. Each province boasted of a hero, in command +of a formidable band—Old Castile, Don Julian Sanches; Aragon, Longa; +Navarre, Esprez y Mina, ...with innumerable others, whose deeds spread +a lustre over every part of the kingdom.... Mina and Longa headed armies +of 6000 or 8000 men with distinguished ability, and displayed manœuvres +oftentimes for months together, in baffling the pursuit of more numerous +bodies of French, which would reflect credit on the most celebrated +commanders." Mina had been trained for clerical life. (See <i>Account of the +War in Spain and Portugal, and in the south of France, from 1808 to +1814 inclusive</i>, by Lieut.-Colonel John T. Jones. London, 1818.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_521" id="Footnote_D_521"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_521"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> Sertorius.—W. W. 1827. See note to <i>The Prelude</i> book i. vol. iii. p. 138.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_POWER_OF_ARMIES_IS_A_VISIBLE" id="THE_POWER_OF_ARMIES_IS_A_VISIBLE"></a>"THE POWER OF ARMIES IS A VISIBLE +THING"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1811.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The power of Armies is a visible thing,<a name="FNanchor_A_526" id="FNanchor_A_526"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_526" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Formal, and circumscribed in time and space;<a name="FNanchor_1_522" id="FNanchor_1_522"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_522" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But who the limits of that power shall trace<a name="FNanchor_2_523" id="FNanchor_2_523"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_523" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Which a brave People into light can bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hide, at will,—for freedom combating <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By just revenge inflamed? No foot may chase,<a name="FNanchor_3_524" id="FNanchor_3_524"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_524" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No eye can follow, to a fatal<a name="FNanchor_4_525" id="FNanchor_4_525"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_525" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That power, that spirit, whether on the wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the strong wind, or sleeping like the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within its awful caves.—From year to year <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Springs this indigenous produce far and near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No craft this subtle element can bind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rising like water from the soil, to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every nook a lip that it may cheer.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_522" id="Footnote_1_522"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_522"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... and place; <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_523" id="Footnote_2_523"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_523"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... can trace <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_524" id="Footnote_3_524"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_524"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... can chase, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_525" id="Footnote_4_525"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_525"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The word "fatal" was <i>italicised</i> in the editions of 1815-43.</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_526" id="Footnote_A_526"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_526"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare Aubrey de Vere's <i>Picturesque Sketches of Greece and Turkey</i>, +vol. i. chap. viii. p. 204.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="HERE_PAUSE_THE_POET_CLAIMS_AT_LEAST" id="HERE_PAUSE_THE_POET_CLAIMS_AT_LEAST"></a>"HERE PAUSE: THE POET CLAIMS AT LEAST +THIS PRAISE"</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1811.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty." In 1815 +it was called <i>Conclusion</i>, as ending this series of poems in that +edition. In all editions it was headed by the date <i>1811</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here pause: the poet claims at least this praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That virtuous Liberty hath been the scope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his pure song, which did not shrink from hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the worst moment of these evil days;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From hope, the paramount <i>duty</i> that Heaven lays, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For its own honour, on man's suffering heart.<a name="FNanchor_A_528" id="FNanchor_A_528"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_528" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never may from our souls one truth depart—</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">That an accursed<a name="FNanchor_1_527" id="FNanchor_1_527"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_527" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> thing it is to gaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On prosperous tyrants with a dazzled eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor—touched with due abhorrence of <i>their</i> guilt <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For whose dire ends tears flow, and blood is spilt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And justice labours in extremity—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forget thy weakness, upon which is built,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wretched man, the throne of tyranny!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_527" id="Footnote_1_527"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_527"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The word "accursed" was <i>italicised</i> in the editions of +1815-43.</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_528" id="Footnote_A_528"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_528"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare <i>The Excursion</i> (book iv. l. 763)— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We live by Admiration, Hope, and Love,</span><br /> +</div></div><p> +and S. T. C. in <i>The Friend</i> (vol. i. p. 172). "What an awful duty, what a +nurse of all others, the fairest virtues, does not Hope become! We are bad +ourselves, because we despair of the goodness of others."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="EPISTLE" id="EPISTLE"></a>EPISTLE</h2> +<h3>TO SIR GEORGE HOWLAND BEAUMONT, BART.</h3> + +<h4>FROM THE SOUTH-WEST COAST OF CUMBERLAND.—1811</h4> + +<p class="center">Composed 1811.—Published 1842</p> + + +<p>[This poem opened, when first written, with a paragraph +that has been transferred as an introduction to the first series of +my Scotch Memorials. The journey, of which the first part is +here described, was from Grasmere to Bootle on the south-west +coast of Cumberland, the whole among mountain roads through +a beautiful country; and we had fine weather. The verses end +with our breakfast at the head of Yewdale in a yeoman's house, +which, like all the other property in that sequestered vale, has +passed or is passing into the hands of Mr. James Marshall of +Monk Coniston—in Mr. Knott's, the late owner's, time called +Waterhead. Our hostess married a Mr. Oldfield, a lieutenant +in the Navy. They lived together for some time at Hacket, +where she still resides as his widow. It was in front of that +house, on the mountain side, near which stood the peasant who, +while we were passing at a distance, saluted us, waving a +kerchief in her hand as described in the poem.<a name="FNanchor_A_532" id="FNanchor_A_532"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_532" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> (This matron +and her husband were then residing at the Hacket. The house +and its inmates are referred to in the fifth book of <i>The Excursion</i>, +in the passage beginning—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i13">You behold,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">High on the breast of yon dark mountain, dark</span><br /> +<span class="i2">With stony barrenness, a shining speck.—J. C.)<a name="FNanchor_B_533" id="FNanchor_B_533"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_533" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The dog which we met with soon after our starting belonged to +Mr. Rowlandson, who for forty years was curate of Grasmere +in place of the rector who lived to extreme old age in a state of +insanity. Of this Mr. R. much might be said, both with +reference to his character, and the way in which he was +regarded by his parishioners. He was a man of a robust frame, +had a firm voice and authoritative manner, of strong natural +talents, of which he was himself conscious, for he has been +heard to say (it grieves me to add) with an oath—"If I had +been brought up at college I should have been a bishop." +Two vices used to struggle in him for mastery, avarice and the +love of strong drink; but avarice, as is common in like cases, +always got the better of its opponent; for, though he was often +intoxicated, it was never I believe at his own expense. As has +been said of one in a more exalted station, he would take any +<i>given</i> quantity. I have heard a story of him which is worth +the telling. One summer's morning, our Grasmere curate, +after a night's carouse in the vale of Langdale, on his return +home, having reached a point near which the whole of the vale +of Grasmere might be seen with the lake immediately below +him, stepped aside and sat down on the turf. After looking +for some time at the landscape, then in the perfection of its +morning beauty, he exclaimed—"Good God, that I should +have led so long such a life in such a place!" This no doubt +was deeply felt by him at the time, but I am not authorised to +say that any noticeable amendment followed. Penuriousness +strengthened upon him as his body grew feebler with age. He +had purchased property and kept some land in his own hands, +but he could not find in his heart to lay out the necessary hire +for labourers at the proper season, and consequently he has +often been seen in half-dotage working his hay in the month of +November by moonlight, a melancholy sight which I myself +have witnessed. Notwithstanding all that has been said, this +man, on account of his talents and superior education, was +looked up to by his parishioners, who without a single exception +lived at that time (and most of them upon their own small +inheritances) in a state of republican equality, a condition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +favourable to the growth of kindly feelings among them, and in +a striking degree exclusive to temptations to gross vice and +scandalous behaviour. As a pastor their curate did little or +nothing for them; but what could more strikingly set forth the +efficacy of the Church of England through its Ordinances and +Liturgy than that, in spite of the unworthiness of the minister, +his church was regularly attended; and, though there was not +much appearance in the flock of what might be called animated +piety, intoxication was rare, and dissolute morals unknown. +With the Bible they were for the most part well acquainted; +and, as was strikingly shown when they were under affliction, +must have been supported and comforted by habitual belief in +those truths which it is the aim of the Church to inculcate. +<i>Loughrigg Tarn.</i>—This beautiful pool and the surrounding +scene are minutely described in my little Book upon the Lakes. +Sir G. H. Beaumont, in the earlier part of his life, was induced, +by his love of nature and the art of painting, to take up his +abode at Old Brathay, about three miles from this spot, so that +he must have seen it under many aspects; and he was so much +pleased with it that he purchased the Tarn with a view to build, +near it, such a residence as is alluded to in this Epistle. +Baronets and knights were not so common in that day as now, +and Sir Michael le Fleming, not liking to have a rival in that +kind of distinction so near him, claimed a sort of Lordship over +the territory, and showed dispositions little in unison with those +of Sir G. Beaumont, who was eminently a lover of peace. The +project of building was in consequence given up, Sir George +retaining possession of the Tarn. Many years afterwards a +Kendal tradesman born upon its banks applied to me for the +purchase of it, and accordingly it was sold for the sum that had +been given for it, and the money was laid out under my direction +upon a substantial oak fence for a certain number of yew trees +to be planted in Grasmere church-yard; two were planted in +each enclosure, with a view to remove, after a certain time, the +one which throve least. After several years, the stouter plant +being left, the others were taken up and placed in other parts +of the same church-yard, and were adequately fenced at the +expense and under the care of the late Mr. Barber, Mr. Greenwood, +and myself: the whole eight are now thriving, and are +already an ornament to a place which, during late years, has +lost much of its rustic simplicity by the introduction of iron +palisades to fence off family burying-grounds, and by numerous +monuments, some of them in very bad taste; from which this +place of burial was in my memory quite free. See the lines in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +the sixth book of <i>The Excursion</i> beginning—"Green is the +church-yard, beautiful and green." The <a href="#EPISTLE"><i>Epistle</i></a> to which these +notes refer, though written so far back as 1804,<a name="FNanchor_C_534" id="FNanchor_C_534"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_534" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> was carefully +revised so late as 1842, previous to its publication. I am loth +to add, that it was never seen by the person to whom it is +addressed. So sensible am I of the deficiencies in all that I +write, and so far does everything I attempt fall short of what I +wish it to be, that even private publication, if such a term may +be allowed, requires more resolution than I can command. I +have written to give vent to my own mind, and not without +hope that, some time or other, kindred minds might benefit by +my labours: but I am inclined to believe I should never have +ventured to send forth any verses of mine to the world if it had +not been done on the pressure of personal occasions. Had I +been a rich man, my productions, like this <a href="#EPISTLE"><i>Epistle</i></a>, the +tragedy of <i>The Borderers</i>, etc., would most likely have been +confined to manuscript.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Included among the "Miscellaneous Poems."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far from our home by Grasmere's quiet Lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the Vale's peace which all her fields partake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here on the bleakest point of Cumbria's shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We sojourn stunned by Ocean's ceaseless roar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, day by day, grim neighbour! huge Black Comb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frowns deepening visibly his native gloom, <span class="linenum">6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless, perchance rejecting in despite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What on the Plain <i>we</i> have of warmth and light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his own storms he hides himself from sight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rough is the time; and thoughts, that would be free <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From heaviness, oft fly, dear Friend, to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn from a spot where neither sheltered road<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor hedge-row screen invites my steps abroad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where one poor Plane-tree, having as it might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attained a stature twice a tall man's height, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hopeless of further growth, and brown and sere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through half the summer, stands with top cut sheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like an unshifting weathercock which proves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How cold the quarter that the wind best loves,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Or like a Centinel<a name="FNanchor_1_529" id="FNanchor_1_529"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_529" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> that, evermore <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkening the window, ill defends the door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this unfinished house—a Fortress bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where strength has been the Builder's only care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose rugged walls may still for years demand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The final polish of the Plasterer's hand. <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—This Dwelling's Inmate more than three weeks' space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft a Prisoner in the cheerless place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I—of whose touch the fiddle would complain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose breath would labour at the flute in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In music all unversed, nor blessed with skill <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bridge to copy, or to paint a mill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tired of my books, a scanty company!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tired of listening to the boisterous sea—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pace between door and window muttering rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An old resource to cheat a froward time! <span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though these dull hours (mine is it, or their shame?)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would tempt me to renounce that humble aim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—But if there be a Muse who, free to take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her seat upon Olympus, doth forsake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those heights (like Phœbus when his golden locks <span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He veiled, attendant on Thessalian flocks)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in disguise, a Milkmaid with her pail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trips down the pathways of some winding dale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, like a Mermaid, warbles on the shores<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fishers mending nets beside their doors; <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, Pilgrim-like, on forest moss reclined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives plaintive ditties to the heedless wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or listens to its play among the boughs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above her head and so forgets her vows—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If such a Visitant of Earth there be <span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she would deign this day to smile on me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aid my verse, content with local bounds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of natural beauty and life's daily rounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoughts, chances, sights, or doings, which we tell</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Without reserve to those whom we love well— <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then haply, Beaumont! words in current clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will flow, and on a welcome page appear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Duly before thy sight, unless they perish here.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">What shall I treat of? News from Mona's Isle?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such have we, but unvaried in its style; <span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No tales of Runagates fresh landed, whence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wherefore fugitive or on what pretence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of feasts, or scandal, eddying like the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most restlessly alive when most confined.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask not of me, whose tongue can best appease <span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mighty tumults of the <span class="smcap">House of Keys</span>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last year's cup whose Ram or Heifer gained,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What slopes are planted, or what mosses drained:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An eye of fancy only can I cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On that proud pageant now at hand or past, <span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When full five hundred boats in trim array,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With nets and sails outspread and streamers gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chanted hymns and stiller voice of prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the old Manx-harvest to the Deep repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon as the herring-shoals at distance shine <span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like beds of moonlight shifting on the brine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Mona from our Abode is daily seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with a wilderness of waves between;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by conjecture only can we speak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of aught transacted there in bay or creek; <span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No tidings reach us thence from town or field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only faint news her mountain sunbeams yield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some we gather from the misty air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some the hovering clouds, our telegraph, declare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But these poetic mysteries I withhold; <span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Fancy hath her fits both hot and cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And should the colder fit with You be on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When You might read, my credit would be gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Let more substantial themes the pen engage,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And nearer interests culled from the opening stage <span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of our migration.—Ere the welcome dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had from the east her silver star withdrawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Wain stood ready, at our Cottage-door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoughtfully freighted with a various store;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And long or ere the uprising of the Sun <span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er dew-damped dust our journey was begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A needful journey, under favouring skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through peopled Vales; yet something in the guise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those old Patriarchs when from well to well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They roamed through Wastes where now the tented Arabs dwell. <span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Say first, to whom did we the charge confide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who promptly undertook the Wain to guide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up many a sharply-twining road and down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And over many a wide hill's craggy crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the quick turns of many a hollow nook, <span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the rough bed of many an unbridged brook?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A blooming Lass—who in her better hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bore a light switch, her sceptre of command<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, yet a slender Girl, she often led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Skilful and bold, the horse and burthened <i>sled</i><a name="FNanchor_D_535" id="FNanchor_D_535"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_535" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> <span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the peat-yielding Moss on Gowdar's head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What could go wrong with such a Charioteer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For goods and chattels, or those Infants dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Pair who smilingly sat side by side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our hope confirming that the salt-sea tide, <span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose free embraces we were bound to seek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would their lost strength restore and freshen the pale cheek?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such hope did either Parent entertain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pacing behind along the silent lane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Blithe hopes and happy musings soon took flight, <span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For lo! an uncouth melancholy sight—</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">On a green bank a creature stood forlorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just half protruded to the light of morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its hinder part concealed by hedge-row thorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Figure called to mind a beast of prey <span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stript of its frightful powers by slow decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, though no longer upon rapine bent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dim memory keeping of its old intent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We started, looked again with anxious eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in that griesly object recognise <span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Curate's Dog—his long-tried friend, for they,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As well we knew, together had grown grey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Master died, his drooping servant's grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Found at the Widow's feet some sad relief;<a name="FNanchor_2_530" id="FNanchor_2_530"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_530" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still he lived in pining discontent, <span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sadness which no indulgence could prevent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence whole day wanderings, broken nightly sleeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lonesome watch that out of doors he keeps;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not oftentimes, I trust, as we, poor brute!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Espied him on his legs sustained, blank, mute, <span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of all visible motion destitute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that the very heaving of his breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seemed stopt, though by some other power than death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long as we gazed upon the form and face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mild domestic pity kept its place, <span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unscared by thronging fancies of strange hue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That haunted us in spite of what we knew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even now I sometimes think of him as lost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In second-sight appearances, or crost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By spectral shapes of guilt, or to the ground, <span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which he stood, by spells unnatural bound,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Like a gaunt shaggy Porter forced to wait<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In days of old romance at Archimago's gate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Advancing Summer, Nature's law fulfilled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The choristers in every grove had stilled; <span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we, we lacked not music of our own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For lightsome Fanny had thus early thrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mid the gay prattle of those infant tongues,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some notes prelusive, from the round of songs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With which, more zealous than the liveliest bird <span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in wild Arden's brakes was ever heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her work and her work's partners she can cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whole day long, and all days of the year.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus gladdened from our own dear Vale we pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soon approach Diana's Looking-glass! <span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Loughrigg-tarn, round, clear, and bright as heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such name Italian fancy would have given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere on its banks the few grey cabins rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That yet disturb not its concealed repose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than the feeblest wind that idly blows. <span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ah, Beaumont! when an opening in the road<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stopped me at once by charm of what it showed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The encircling region vividly exprest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the mirror's depth, a world at rest—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sky streaked with purple, grove and craggy <i>bield</i>,<a name="FNanchor_E_536" id="FNanchor_E_536"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_536" class="fnanchor">[E]</a> <span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the smooth green of many a pendent field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, quieted and soothed, a torrent small,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little daring would-be waterfall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One chimney smoking and its azure wreath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Associate all in the calm Pool beneath, <span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With here and there a faint imperfect gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of water-lilies veiled in misty steam—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What wonder at this hour of stillness deep,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">A shadowy link 'tween wakefulness and sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Nature's self, amid such blending, seems <span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To render visible her own soft dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, mixed with what appeared of rock, lawn, wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fondly embosomed in the tranquil flood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A glimpse I caught of that Abode, by Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Designed to rise in humble privacy, <span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lowly Dwelling, here to be outspread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a small Hamlet, with its bashful head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half hid in native trees. Alas 'tis not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ever was; I sighed, and left the spot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unconscious of its own untoward lot, <span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thought in silence, with regret too keen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of unexperienced joys that might have been;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of neighbourhood and intermingling arts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And golden summer days uniting cheerful hearts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But time, irrevocable time, is flown, <span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let us utter thanks for blessings sown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reaped—what hath been, and what is, our own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Not far we travelled ere a shout of glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Startling us all, dispersed my reverie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such shout as many a sportive echo meeting <span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft-times from Alpine <i>chalets</i> sends a greeting.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence the blithe hail? behold a Peasant stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On high, a kerchief waving in her hand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not unexpectant that by early day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our little Band would thrid this mountain way, <span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before her cottage on the bright hill side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She hath advanced with hope to be descried.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right gladly answering signals we displayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moving along a tract of morning shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vocal wishes sent of like good will <span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To our kind Friend high on the sunny hill—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Luminous region, fair as if the prime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were tempting all astir to look aloft or climb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only the centre of the shining cot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With door left open makes a gloomy spot, <span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span><span class="i0">Emblem of those dark corners sometimes found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the happiest breast on earthly ground.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Rich prospect left behind of stream and vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mountain-tops, a barren ridge we scale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Descend and reach, in Yewdale's depths, a plain <span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With haycocks studded, striped with yellowing grain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An area level as a Lake and spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under a rock too steep for man to tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where sheltered from the north and bleak north-west<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aloft the Raven hangs a visible nest, <span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fearless of all assaults that would her brood molest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hot sunbeams fill the steaming vale; but hark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At our approach, a jealous watch-dog's bark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noise that brings forth no liveried Page of state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the whole household, that our coming wait. <span class="linenum">235</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Young and Old warm greetings we exchange,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And jocund smiles, and toward the lowly Grange<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Press forward by the teasing dogs unscared.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Entering, we find the morning meal prepared:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So down we sit, though not till each had cast <span class="linenum">240</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleased looks around the delicate repast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich cream, and snow-white eggs fresh from the nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With amber honey from the mountain's breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strawberries from lane or woodland, offering wild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of children's industry, in hillocks piled; <span class="linenum">245</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cakes for the nonce,<a name="FNanchor_3_531" id="FNanchor_3_531"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_531" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and butter fit to lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a lordly dish; frank hospitality<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where simple art with bounteous nature vied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cottage comfort shunned not seemly pride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Kind Hostess! Handmaid also of the feast, <span class="linenum">250</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou be lovelier than the kindling East,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Words by thy presence unrestrained may speak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a perpetual dawn from brow and cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instinct with light whose sweetest promise lies,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Never retiring, in thy large dark eyes, <span class="linenum">255</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark but to every gentle feeling true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if their lustre flowed from ether's purest blue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Let me not ask what tears may have been wept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By those bright eyes, what weary vigils kept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside that hearth what sighs may have been heaved <span class="linenum">260</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For wounds inflicted, nor what toil relieved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By fortitude and patience, and the grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of heaven in pity visiting the place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not unadvisedly those secret springs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I leave unsearched: enough that memory clings, <span class="linenum">265</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here as elsewhere, to notices that make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their own significance for hearts awake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rural incidents, whose genial powers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filled with delight three summer morning hours.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">More could my pen report of grave or gay <span class="linenum">270</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That through our gipsy travel cheered the way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, bursting forth above the waves, the Sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughs at my pains, and seems to say, "Be done."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, Beaumont, thou wilt not, I trust, reprove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This humble offering made by Truth to Love, <span class="linenum">275</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor chide the Muse that stooped to break a spell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which might have else been on me yet:—<br /></span> +<span class="i16"><span class="smcap">Farewell</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_529" id="Footnote_1_529"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_529"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1845. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Or stedfast Centinel ... <span class="yearnum">1842.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_530" id="Footnote_2_530"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_530"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Until the Vale she quitted, and their door</span><br /> +<span class="var">Was closed, to which she will return no more;</span><br /> +<span class="var">But first old Faithful to a neighbour's care</span><br /> +<span class="var">Was given in charge; nor lacked he dainty fare,</span><br /> +<span class="var">And in the chimney nook was free to lie</span><br /> +<span class="var">And doze, or, if his hour were come, to die.</span> +</div></div><p> +Inserted only in the edition of 1842.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_531" id="Footnote_3_531"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_531"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> The phrase "for the nonce" was <i>italicised</i> in 1842.</p></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_532" id="Footnote_A_532"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_532"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In the MS. of these Fenwick notes, the following is written in pencil, +the passage referred to beginning with "Our hostess," and ending at "the +poem." "Revise this sentence. Here is something involved."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_533" id="Footnote_B_533"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_533"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> <i>i.e.</i> John Carter, Wordsworth's confidential clerk, who saw the edition +of 1857 through the press. The sentence enclosed within brackets and +signed J. C. is his.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_534" id="Footnote_C_534"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_534"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> See the note dealing with this date (<a href="#Page_269">p. 269</a>). It should be 1811.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_535" id="Footnote_D_535"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_535"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> A local word for Sledge.—W. W. 1842.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_536" id="Footnote_E_536"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_536"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> A word common in the country, signifying shelter, as in Scotland.—W. +W. 1842.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="UPON_PERUSING_THE_FOREGOING_EPISTLE" id="UPON_PERUSING_THE_FOREGOING_EPISTLE"></a>UPON PERUSING THE FOREGOING EPISTLE +THIRTY YEARS AFTER ITS COMPOSITION</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1841.—Published 1842</p> + + +<p>Included among the "Miscellaneous Poems."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soon did the Almighty Giver of all rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take those dear young Ones to a fearless nest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in Death's arms has long reposed the Friend</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">For whom this simple Register was penned.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thanks to the moth that spared it for our eyes; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Strangers even the slighted Scroll may prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved by the touch of kindred sympathies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For—save the calm, repentance sheds o'er strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raised by remembrances of misused life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light from past endeavours purely willed <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by Heaven's favour happily fulfilled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save hope that we, yet bound to Earth, may share<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joys of the Departed—what so fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As blameless pleasure, not without some tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reviewed through Love's transparent veil of years?<a name="FNanchor_A_537" id="FNanchor_A_537"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_537" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><span class="linenum">15</span></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center"> +The mighty tumults of the <span class="smcap">House of Keys</span>; +</p> + +<p>The Isle of Man has a constitution of its own, independent +of the Imperial Parliament. The House of twenty-four Keys +is the popular assembly, corresponding to the British House of +Commons; the Lieutenant-Governor and Council constitute the +Upper House. All legislative measures must be first considered +and passed by both branches, and afterwards transmitted to the +English Sovereign for the Royal Assent before becoming law.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Mona from our Abode is daily seen,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">But with a wilderness of waves between;</span> +</div></div> + +<p>In a letter written from Bootle to Sir George Beaumont on +the 28th August 1811, Wordsworth says:—</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"This is like most others, a bleak and treeless coast, but +abounding in corn fields, and with a noble beach, which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +delightful either for walking or riding. The Isle of Man is +right opposite our window; and though in this unsettled +weather often invisible, its appearance has afforded us great +amusement. One afternoon above the whole length of it was +stretched a body of clouds, shaped and coloured like a magnificent +grove in winter, when whitened with snow and illuminated, +by the morning sun, which, having melted the snow +in part, has intermingled black masses among the brightness. +The whole sky was scattered over with fleecy dark clouds, such +as any sunshiny day produces, and which were changing their +shapes and positions every moment. But this line of clouds +was immovably attached to the island, and manifestly took their +shape from the influence of its mountains. There appeared to +be just span enough of sky to allow the hand to slide between +the top of Snâfell, the highest peak in the island, and the base +of this glorious forest, in which little change was noticeable for +more than the space of half an hour."</p> + +<p>In the Fenwick note, Wordsworth tells us that this <a href="#EPISTLE"><i>Epistle</i></a> +was written in 1804; and by referring to the note prefixed to +the first poem in the "Memorials of a Tour in Scotland," 1803, +(see vol. ii. p. 377), it will be seen that the lines entitled +<i>Departure from the Vale of Grasmere, August, 1803</i>, beginning—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains,</span> +</div></div> + +<p>were "not actually written for the occasion, but transplanted +from my <a href="#EPISTLE"><i>Epistle to Sir George Beaumont</i></a>."</p> + +<p>It does not follow from this, however, that the lines belong +to the year 1803 or 1804; because they were not published +along with the earlier "Memorials" of the Scotch Tour, but +appeared for the first time in the edition of 1827. It is certain +that Wordsworth travelled down with his household from the +Grasmere Parsonage to Bootle in August 1811—mainly to get +some sea-air for his invalid children—and that he lived there for +some time during the autumn of that year. He <i>may</i> have also +gone down to the south-west coast of Cumberland in 1804, and +then written a part of the poem; but we have no direct +evidence of this; and I rather think that the mention of the +year 1804 to Miss Fenwick is just another instance in which +Wordsworth's memory failed him while dictating these memoranda. +If the poem was not written at different times, but was +composed as a whole in 1811, we may partly account for the +date he gave to Miss Fenwick, when we remember that in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +year 1827 he transferred a part of it (viz. the introduction) to +these "Memorials" of the Scotch Tour of 1803.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Up many a sharply-twining road and down,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And over many a wide hill's craggy crown,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Through the quick turns of many a hollow nook,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And the rough bed of many an unbridged brook.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>Their route would be from Grasmere by Red Bank, over by +High Close to Elter Water, by Colwith into Yewdale, on to +Waterhead; then probably, from Coniston over Walna Scar, +into Duddondale, and thence to Bootle.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Like a gaunt shaggy Porter forced to wait</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In days of old romance at Archimago's gate.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>See Spenser's <i>Faërie Queene</i>, book i. canto i. stanza 8.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i9h">... the liveliest bird</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That in wild Arden's brakes was ever heard.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>Compare <i>As you like it</i>, act <span class="allcapsc">II.</span> scene 5.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And soon approach Diana's Looking-glass!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">To Loughrigg-tarn, etc.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>See the note appended by Wordsworth to the sequel to this +poem.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">A glimpse I caught of that Abode, by Thee</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Designed to rise in humble privacy.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>He imagines the house which Sir George Beaumont intended +to build at Loughrigg Tarn, but which he never erected, to be +really built by his friend, very much as in the sonnet named +<i>Anticipation, October, 1803</i>, he supposes England to have been +invaded, and the battle fought in which "the Invaders were +laid low."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10h">... behold a Peasant stand</span><br /> +<span class="i2">On high, a kerchief waving in her hand!</span> +</div></div> + +<p>See the Fenwick note preceding the poem.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i9h">... a barren ridge we scale;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Descend and reach, in Yewdale's depths, a plain.</span> +</div></div> + +<p>They went up Little Langdale, I think, past the Tarn to +Fell Foot, and crossed over the ridge of Tilberthwaite, into +Yewdale by the copper mines.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Under a rock too steep for man to tread,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Where sheltered from the north and bleak north-west</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Aloft the Raven hangs a visible nest,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Fearless of all assaults that would her brood molest.</span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>There is a Raven crag in Yewdale, evidently the one referred +to in this passage, and also in the passage in the first book of +<i>The Prelude</i> (see vol. iii. p. 142), beginning—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8h">Oh! when I have hung</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Above the raven's nest, by knots of grass</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock</span><br /> +<span class="i2">But ill sustained, etc.</span></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i7">... toward the lowly Grange</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Press forward,</span> +</div></div> + +<p>To Waterhead at the top of Coniston Lake.</p> + +<p>In connection with Loughrigg Tarn, compare the note to +the poem beginning—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive,</span> +</div></div> + +<p>and also the Biographical Sketch of Professor Archer Butler, +prefixed to his <i>Sermons</i>, vol. i.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_537" id="Footnote_A_537"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_537"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Loughrigg Tarn</span>, alluded to in the foregoing <a href="#EPISTLE"><i>Epistle</i></a>, resembles, though +much smaller in compass, the Lake Nemi, or <i>Speculum Dianæ</i> as it is often +called, not only in its clear waters and circular form, and the beauty immediately +surrounding it, but also as being overlooked by the eminence of +Langdale Pikes as Lake Nemi is by that of Monte Calvo. Since this +<a href="#EPISTLE"><i>Epistle</i></a> was written Loughrigg Tarn has lost much of its beauty by the felling +of many natural clumps of wood, relics of the old forest, particularly +upon the farm called "The Oaks" from the abundance of that tree which +grew there. +</p><p> +It is to be regretted, upon public grounds, that Sir George Beaumont +did not carry into effect his intention of constructing here a Summer +Retreat in the style I have described; as his Taste would have set an example +how buildings, with all the accommodations modern society requires, +might be introduced even into the most secluded parts of this country +without injuring their native character. The design was not abandoned +from failure of inclination on his part, but in consequence of local untowardnesses +which need not be particularised.—W. W. 1842.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="UPON_THE_SIGHT_OF_A_BEAUTIFUL" id="UPON_THE_SIGHT_OF_A_BEAUTIFUL"></a>UPON THE SIGHT OF A BEAUTIFUL +PICTURE,</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Painted by Sir G. H. Beaumont, Bart.</span></h3> + +<p class="center">Composed 1811.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>[This was written when we dwelt in the Parsonage at Grasmere. +The principal features of the picture are Bredon Hill +and Cloud Hill near Coleorton. I shall never forget the happy +feeling with which my heart was filled when I was impelled to +compose this Sonnet. We resided only two years in this house, +and during the last half of the time, which was after this poem +had been written, we lost our two children, Thomas and +Catherine. Our sorrow upon these events often brought it to +my mind, and cast me upon the support to which the last line +of it gives expression—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"The appropriate calm of blest eternity."</span> +</div></div> + +<p>It is scarcely necessary to add that we still possess the +Picture.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Included among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." In 1815 the +title was simply <i>Upon the Sight of a Beautiful Picture</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span><span class="i0">Praised be the Art whose subtle power could stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon cloud, and fix it in that glorious shape;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor would permit the thin smoke to escape,<a name="FNanchor_A_539" id="FNanchor_A_539"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_539" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor those bright sunbeams to forsake the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which stopped that band of travellers on their way, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere they were lost within the shady wood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And showed the Bark upon the glassy flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever anchored in her sheltering bay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soul-soothing Art! whom<a name="FNanchor_1_538" id="FNanchor_1_538"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_538" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Morning, Noon-tide, Even,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do serve with all their changeful pageantry; <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, with ambition modest yet sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, for the sight of mortal man, hast given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To one brief moment caught from fleeting time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The appropriate calm of blest eternity,<a name="FNanchor_B_540" id="FNanchor_B_540"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_540" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Compare the <i>Elegiac Stanzas, suggested by a picture of Peele +Castle, in a Storm, painted by Sir George Beaumont</i>—especially +the first three, and the fifth, sixth, and seventh stanzas. (See +vol. iii. p. 54.)</p> + +<p>In the letter written to Sir George Beaumont from Bootle, in +1811—partly quoted in the note to the previous poem (<a href="#Page_268">p. 268</a>)—Wordsworth +says, "A few days after I had enjoyed the pleasure +of seeing, in different moods of mind, your Coleorton landscape +from my fireside, it <i>suggested</i> to me the following sonnet, which—having +walked out to the side of Grasmere brook, where it +murmurs through the meadows near the Church—I composed +immediately—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Praised be the Art ...</span> +</div></div> + +<p>"The images of the smoke and the travellers are taken from +your picture; the rest were added, in order to place the thought +in a clear point of view, and for the sake of variety."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_538" id="Footnote_1_538"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_538"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1838. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... which ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_539" id="Footnote_A_539"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_539"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare, in Pope's <i>Moral Essays</i>, ii. 19— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Choose a firm cloud before it fall, and in it</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_540" id="Footnote_B_540"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_540"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Compare, in the <i>Elegiac Stanzas, suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle, +in a Storm</i> (vol. iii. p. 55)— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Elysian quiet, without toil or strife.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="TO_THE_POET_JOHN_DYER" id="TO_THE_POET_JOHN_DYER"></a>TO THE POET, JOHN DYER</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1811.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." In the edition +of 1815 the title was, <i>To the Poet, Dyer</i>.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bard of the Fleece, whose skilful genius made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That work a living landscape fair and bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor hallowed less with musical delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than those soft scenes through which thy childhood strayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those southern tracts of Cambria, deep embayed, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With green hills fenced, with<a name="FNanchor_1_541" id="FNanchor_1_541"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_541" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> ocean's murmur lull'd;<a name="FNanchor_A_542" id="FNanchor_A_542"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_542" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though hasty Fame hath many a chaplet culled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For worthless brows, while in the pensive shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of cold neglect she leaves thy head ungraced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet pure and powerful minds, hearts meek and still, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A grateful few, shall love thy modest Lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long as the shepherd's bleating flock shall stray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er naked Snowdon's wide aërial waste;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long as the thrush shall pipe on Grongar Hill!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>John Dyer, author of <i>Grongar Hill</i> (1726), and <i>The Fleece</i> +(1757), was born at Aberglasney, in Caermarthenshire, in +1698, and died in 1758. Both Akenside and Gray, before +Wordsworth's time, had signalised his merit, in opposition to +the dicta of Johnson and Horace Walpole. The passage which +Wordsworth quotes is from <i>The Fleece</i>, in which Dyer is referring +to his own ancestors, who were weavers, and "fugitives +from superstition's rage," and who brought the art of weaving +"from Devon" to</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i13h">that soft tract</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of Cambria, deep-embayed, Dimetian land,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">By green hills fenced, by ocean's murmur lulled.</span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>It will be observed that Wordsworth quotes this last line of +Dyer accurately in the edition of 1815, but changed it in 1827.</p> + +<p>This sonnet was possibly written before 1811, as in a letter +to Lady Beaumont, dated November 20, 1811, he speaks of it +as written "some time ago." In that letter Wordsworth writes +thus of Dyer:—"His poem is in several places dry and heavy, +but its beauties are innumerable, and of a high order. In +point of <i>imagination</i> and purity of style, I am not sure that he +is not superior to any writer of verse since the time of Milton." +He then transcribes his sonnet, and adds—"In the above is +one whole line from <i>The Fleece</i>, and also other expressions. +When you read <i>The Fleece</i>, you will recognise them."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_541" id="Footnote_1_541"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_541"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">By green hills fenced, by ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_542" id="Footnote_A_542"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_542"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Compare Dyer's <i>Fleece</i>, book iii.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Year_1812" id="Year_1812"></a>1812</h2> + + +<p>The years 1812 and 1813 were poetically even less productive +than 1811 had been. The first of them was saddened by +domestic losses, which deprived the poet, for a time, of the +power of work, and almost of any interest in the labour to +which his life was devoted. Three short pieces are all that +belong to 1812 and 1813 respectively.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SONG_FOR_THE_SPINNING_WHEEL" id="SONG_FOR_THE_SPINNING_WHEEL"></a>SONG FOR THE SPINNING WHEEL</h2> + +<h3>FOUNDED UPON A BELIEF PREVALENT AMONG THE +PASTORAL VALES OF WESTMORELAND</h3> + +<p class="center">Composed 1812.—Published 1820</p> + + +<p>[The belief on which this is founded I have often heard +expressed by an old neighbour of Grasmere.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>One of the "Poems of the Fancy."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night has brought the welcome hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the weary fingers feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help, as if from faery power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dewy night o'ershades the ground; <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn the swift wheel round and round!</span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span><span class="i0">Now, beneath the starry sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couch<a name="FNanchor_1_543" id="FNanchor_1_543"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_543" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> the widely-scattered sheep;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ply the pleasant labour, ply!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the spindle, while they sleep, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Runs with speed more smooth and fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gathering<a name="FNanchor_2_544" id="FNanchor_2_544"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_544" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> up a trustier line.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Short-lived likings may be bred<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By a glance from fickle eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But true love is like the thread <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which the kindly wool supplies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the flocks are all at rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleeping on the mountain's breast.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It was for Sarah Hutchinson that this <i>Song</i> was written. She +lived, for the most part, either at Brinsop Court Herefordshire, +or at Rydal Mount Westmoreland, or at Greta Hall Keswick. +When living at Greta Hall, she acted as Southey's amanuensis. +She also frequently transcribed poems for Wordsworth, at +Grasmere, Coleorton, and Rydal Mount.</p> + +<p>Compare the sonnet addressed <i>To S. H.</i> in the "Miscellaneous +Sonnets," I. xx.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_543" id="Footnote_1_543"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_543"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Rest ... <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_544" id="Footnote_2_544"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_544"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1832. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">With a motion smooth and fine</span><br /> +<span class="var">Gathers ... <span class="yearnum">1820.</span></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Runs with motion smooth and fine,</span><br /> +<span class="var">Gathering ... <span class="yearnum">1827.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2 class="spec"><a name="COMPOSED_ON_THE_EVE_OF_THE_MARRIAGE" id="COMPOSED_ON_THE_EVE_OF_THE_MARRIAGE"></a>COMPOSED ON THE EVE OF THE MARRIAGE +OF A FRIEND IN THE VALE OF GRASMERE, 1812</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1812.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These humble nuptials to proclaim or grace?</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Angels of love, look down upon the place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shed on the chosen vale a sun-bright day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet no proud gladness would the Bride display <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even for such promise:<a name="FNanchor_1_545" id="FNanchor_1_545"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_545" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>—serious is her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Modest her mien; and she, whose thoughts keep pace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gentleness, in that becoming way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will thank you. Faultless does the Maid appear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No disproportion in her soul, no strife: <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, when the closer view of wedded life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath shown that nothing human can be clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From frailty, for that insight may the Wife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her indulgent Lord become more dear.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This refers to the marriage of Thomas Hutchinson (Mrs. +Wordsworth's brother) to Mary Monkhouse, sister of the Mr. +Monkhouse with whom Wordsworth afterwards travelled on the +Continent. The marriage took place on November 1, 1812. +They lived at Nadnorth for eighteen years, and afterwards at +Brinsop Court, Herefordshire, for twenty-one years. To their +son—the Rev. Thomas Hutchinson of Kimbolton, Leominster, +Herefordshire—and to their daughter—Miss Elizabeth +Hutchinson of Rock Villa, West Malvern—I am indebted for +much information in reference to their uncle and aunts. The +portrait of Wordsworth in his forty-seventh year, by Richard +Carruthers, is in Mr. Hutchinson's possession at the Rectory, +Kimbolton.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_545" id="Footnote_1_545"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_545"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Even for such omen would the Bride display</span><br /> +<span class="var">No mirthful gladness:— <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WATER-FOWLA" id="WATER-FOWLA"></a>WATER-FOWL<a name="FNanchor_A_546" id="FNanchor_A_546"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_546" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1812.—Published 1827</p> + + +<p class="blockquot">"Let me be allowed the aid of verse to describe the +evolutions which these visitants sometimes perform, on a fine day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +towards the close of winter."—<i>Extract from the Author's Book +on the Lakes.</i>—W. W. 1827.</p> + +<p>[Observed frequently over the lakes of Rydal and Grasmere.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Placed among the "Poems of the Imagination."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mark how the feathered tenants of the flood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With grace of motion that might scarcely seem<a name="FNanchor_B_547" id="FNanchor_B_547"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_547" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inferior to angelical, prolong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their curious pastime! shaping in mid air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(And sometimes with ambitious wing that soars <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">High as the level of the mountain-tops)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A circuit ampler than the lake beneath—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their own domain; but ever, while intent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On tracing and retracing that large round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their jubilant activity evolves <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hundreds of curves and circlets, to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upward and downward, progress intricate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet unperplexed, as if one spirit swayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their indefatigable flight. 'Tis done—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten times, or more, I fancied it had ceased; <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lo! the vanished company again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ascending; they approach—I hear their wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint, faint at first; and then an eager sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past in a moment—and as faint again!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They tempt the sun to sport amid their plumes; <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They tempt the water, or the gleaming ice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show them a fair image; 'tis themselves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their own fair forms, upon the glimmering plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Painted more soft and fair as they descend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Almost to touch;—then up again aloft, <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up with a sally and a flash of speed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if they scorned both resting-place and rest!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_546" id="Footnote_A_546"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_546"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> This is part of the canto of <i>The Recluse</i>, entitled "Home at Grasmere."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_547" id="Footnote_B_547"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_547"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> For the original text, which differs from this, see <i>The Recluse</i>, vol. viii. +of this edition.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Year_1813" id="Year_1813"></a>1813</h2> + + +<p class="center">See the <a href="#Page_275">note</a> to the previous year, 1812.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIEW_FROM_THE_TOP_OF_BLACK_COMB" id="VIEW_FROM_THE_TOP_OF_BLACK_COMB"></a>VIEW FROM THE TOP OF BLACK COMB</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1813.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>Black Comb stands at the southern extremity of Cumberland: +its base covers a much greater extent of ground than any other +mountain in these parts; and, from its situation, the summit +commands a more extensive view than any other point in +Britain.—W. W. 1827.</p> + +<p>[Mrs. Wordsworth and I, as mentioned in the <a href="#EPISTLE"><i>Epistle to Sir +G. Beaumont</i></a>, lived sometime under its shadow.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Included among the "Poems of the Imagination." (See +the editorial note to the following poem.)—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This Height a ministering Angel might select:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For from the summit of <span class="smcap">Black Comb</span> (dread name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Derived from clouds and storms!) the amplest range<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of unobstructed prospect may be seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That British ground commands:—low dusky tracts, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Trent is nursed, far southward! Cambrian hills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the south-west, a multitudinous show;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in a line of eye-sight linked with these,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hoary peaks of Scotland that give birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Tiviot's stream, to Annan, Tweed, and Clyde:— <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span><span class="i0">Crowding the quarter whence the sun comes forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gigantic mountains rough with crags; beneath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right at the imperial station's western base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Main ocean, breaking audibly, and stretched<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far into silent regions blue and pale;— <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And visibly engirding Mona's Isle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, as we left the plain, before our sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood like a lofty mount, uplifting slowly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Above the convex of the watery globe)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into clear view the cultured fields that streak <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her<a name="FNanchor_1_548" id="FNanchor_1_548"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_548" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> habitable shores, but now appears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dwindled object, and submits to lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the spectator's feet.—Yon azure ridge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it a perishable cloud? Or there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do we behold the line<a name="FNanchor_2_549" id="FNanchor_2_549"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_549" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> of Erin's coast?<a name="FNanchor_A_550" id="FNanchor_A_550"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_550" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Land sometimes by the roving shepherd-swain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Like the bright confines of another world)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not doubtfully perceived.—Look homeward now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In depth, in height, in circuit, how serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spectacle, how pure!—Of Nature's works, <span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In earth, and air, and earth-embracing sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A revelation infinite it seems;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Display august of man's inheritance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Britain's calm felicity and power!<a name="FNanchor_B_551" id="FNanchor_B_551"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_551" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_548" id="Footnote_1_548"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_548"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1827. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Its ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_549" id="Footnote_2_549"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_549"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 1832. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... the frame ... <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="section">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_550" id="Footnote_A_550"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_550"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> The Irish coast can be seen from Black Comb, but it is seldom visible +till after sundown.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_551" id="Footnote_B_551"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_551"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Compare, in <i>The Minstrels of Winandermere</i>, by Charles Farish, p. 33— +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Close by the sea, lone sentinel,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Black Comb his forward station keeps;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">He breaks the sea's tumultuous swell,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And ponders o'er the level deeps.<span class="yearnum"><span class="smcap">Ed.</span></span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> +<h2 class="spec"><a name="WRITTEN_WITH_A_SLATE_PENCIL" id="WRITTEN_WITH_A_SLATE_PENCIL"></a>WRITTEN WITH A SLATE PENCIL ON A +STONE, ON THE SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN +OF BLACK COMB</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed 1813.—Published 1815</p> + + +<p>[The circumstance, alluded to at the conclusion of these +verses, was told me by Dr. Satterthwaite, who was Incumbent +of Bootle, a small town at the foot of Black Comb. He had +the particulars from one of the engineers who was employed in +making trigonometrical surveys of that region.—I. F.]</p> + +<p>Included among the "Inscriptions."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stay, bold Adventurer; rest awhile thy limbs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On this commodious Seat! for much remains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hard ascent before thou reach the top<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this huge Eminence,—from blackness named,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, to far-travelled storms of sea and land, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A favourite spot of tournament and war!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thee may no such boisterous visitants<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Molest; may gentle breezes fan thy brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And neither cloud conceal, nor misty air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bedim, the grand terraqueous spectacle, <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From centre to circumference, unveiled!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know, if thou grudge not to prolong thy rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That on the summit whither thou art bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A geographic Labourer pitched his tent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With books supplied and instruments of art, <span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To measure height and distance; lonely task,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Week after week pursued!—To him was given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full many a glimpse (but sparingly bestowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On timid man) of Nature's processes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the exalted hills. He made report <span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That once, while there he plied his studious work<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within that canvass Dwelling, colours, lines,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">And the whole surface of the out-spread map,<a name="FNanchor_1_552" id="FNanchor_1_552"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_552" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Became invisible: for all around<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had darkness fallen—unthreatened, unproclaimed— <span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the golden day itself had been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Extinguished in a moment; total gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which he sate alone, with unclosed eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the blinded mountain's silent top!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the editions of 1815 and 1820, the note to the previous +poem, <a href="#VIEW_FROM_THE_TOP_OF_BLACK_COMB"><i>View from the top of Black Comb</i></a>, was appended to this +one. In 1827 it was transferred to its appropriate and +permanent place.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_552" id="Footnote_1_552"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_552"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1837. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">Within that canvass Dwelling, suddenly</span><br /> +<span class="var">The many-coloured map before his eyes <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NOVEMBER_1813" id="NOVEMBER_1813"></a>NOVEMBER, 1813</h2> + +<p class="center">Composed November 1813.—Published 1815</p> + +<p>Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now that all hearts are glad, all faces bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our aged Sovereign sits, to the ebb and flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of states and kingdoms, to their joy or woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Insensible. He sits deprived of sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lamentably wrapped in twofold night, <span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom no weak hopes deceived; whose mind ensued,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through perilous war, with regal fortitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace that should claim respect from lawless Might.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread King of Kings, vouchsafe a ray divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his forlorn condition! let thy grace <span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his inner<a name="FNanchor_1_553" id="FNanchor_1_553"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_553" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> soul in mercy shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Permit his heart to kindle, and to embrace<a name="FNanchor_2_554" id="FNanchor_2_554"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_554" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">(Though it were<a name="FNanchor_3_555" id="FNanchor_3_555"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_555" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> only for a moment's space)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The triumphs of this hour; for they are <span class="smcap">Thine</span>!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The reference is to the rejoicings on the Leipzig victory of +the Allied Forces, October 16 to 19, 1813. Napoleon crossed +the Rhine on the 2nd November, and returned to Paris with +the wreck of his army. George III. was English Sovereign; +but, owing to his illness, the Prince of Wales had been appointed +Regent, and assumed executive power in January 1811. The +King died at Windsor in 1820, being eighty-two years of age. +He had been entirely blind for some years before his death. +The "twofold night" referred to in the sonnet is sufficiently +obvious.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p>VARIANTS:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_553" id="Footnote_1_553"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_553"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1815. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... inmost ... <span class="yearnum">1838.</span></span> +</div></div><p> +The text of 1840 returns to that of 1815.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_554" id="Footnote_2_554"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_554"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <span class="allcapsc">C.</span> and 1838. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">... and embrace, <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_555" id="Footnote_3_555"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_555"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> 1832. +</p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="var">(Though were it ...) <span class="yearnum">1815.</span></span> +</div></div></div> + + +<p style="padding-top: 2em;">END OF VOL. IV</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Printed by</i> <span class="smcap">R. & R. Clark, Limited</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Transcribers_Notes" id="Transcribers_Notes"></a>Transcriber's Note:</p> + +<p>1. All footnotes have been moved to the chapter or sub-chapter ends and cross-links provided EXCEPTING +the footnote at the end of <a href="#THE_MARTIAL_COURAGE_OF_A_DAY_IS_VAIN">Tyrolese Sonnet VI</a>, which has been placed immediatly after +the sonnet though the chapter continues and other succeeding footnotes appear at the end.</p> + +<p>In the original text the printer used multiple periods to push single and multiple word "Variants" +into the place in the notes where they occured in the poem. In this e-text a single ellipsis (...) is used to represent positioning of +preceeding and succeeding words. The variant anchor point indicates the relative position of the word +variant in the poem.</p> + +<p>In footnote <a href="#Footnote_A_157">[A]</a> to the poem "In the Grounds of Coleorton", p. 79 "l. 7." has been changed +to p. 79 "l. 13." While the note correctly identifies the 7th line of the text of the +poem printed on p. 79, it is actually l. 13. of the poem.</p> + +<p>2. All poetry line markers have been retained as placed and numbered by the printer in 5, 4 or 6 line intervals.</p> + +<p>3. <a href="#Page_5">Pg. 5</a> changed "in" to "on" (which befell him on the way.)</p> + +<p>4. <a href="#Page_197">Pg. 197</a>, Note II. incorrectly shows p. 201 for <a href="#THE_FORCE_OF_PRAYERA"><i>The Force of Prayer, or the Founding of Bolton Priory</i></a>. This poem begins on +Pg. 204 and the reference has been corrected.</p> + +<p>5. <a href="#Page_193">Pg. 193</a> changed single close quote ['] to ["]. (motion of The White Doe.")</p> + +<p>6. <a href="#Page_273">Pg. 273</a> removed single double quote from (..., deep embayed,)</p> + +<p>7. Several word variations appearing in the text have been retained including but not limited to:</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"achieves" and "atchieved"<br /> +"antient", "ancyent", and "ancient"<br /> +"belovèd" and "beloved"<br /> +"birthplace" (<span class="smcap">Ed.</span>) and "birth-place" (poems)<br /> +"blessèd" and "blessed"<br /> +"Buonaparté" and "Buonaparte"<br /> +"cheer(ed)(ful)" and "chear(ed)(ful)"<br /> +"eye-sight" and "eyesight"<br /> +"farm-house" and "farmhouse"<br /> +"Mauleverers" and "Mauliverers"<br /> +"negociation" and "negotiation"<br /> +"out-spread" and "outspread"<br /> +"re-appearing" and "reappearing"<br /> +"recognised" and "recognized"<br /> +"Shakspeare"('s) (3) and "Shakespeare"('s) (3)<br /> +"Stockton-on-Tees" and "Stockton-upon-Tees"<br /> +"strong-hold" (in poetry) and "stronghold" (in letter)<br /> +"wingèd" and "winged"<br /> +"wreathèd" and "wreathed"<br /> +</p> + +<p>8. The translations of the Tyrolese Sonnets in German were originally printed +in the Fraktur Font, and with other Blackletter Gothic fonts are represented in +"<em class="antiqua">Antiqua</em>" in this e-text.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, VOLUME IV (OF 8)***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 32459-h.txt or 32459-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/4/5/32459">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/5/32459</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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