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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:34:05 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:34:05 -0700 |
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diff --git a/10219-h/10219-h.htm b/10219-h/10219-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3f0913 --- /dev/null +++ b/10219-h/10219-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,37408 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>Wordsworth's Poetical Works, vol. 1</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=UTF-8"> +<meta name="keywords" content= +"Wordsworth's Works, Wordsworth, Knight, poem, poems, poetry, literature, English Literature, e-book, Public Doman, free e-book"> +<meta name="description" content= +"'Wordsworth's Poetical Works', volume one of a series of eight now available in html form, as a free download from Project Gutenberg"> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {background:#ffff99; margin:10%; text-align:justify} +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {color:#A82C28} +– > +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10219 ***</div> + +<img src="images/WI1.gif" width="327" height="523" align="right" border="1" alt="original title-page"> + +<h1>Wordsworth's <br> +<br><br> +<br> + +<i>Poetical Works</i></h1> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>volume 1<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + + +edited by<br> +<br> + +William Knight<br> +<br><br> +<br> + + +1896</b><br> +<br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + + +<p><b><a name="toc">Table of Contents</a></b></p> +<ul> +<li><a href="#introduction">Preface</a></li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section1">Extract from the Conclusion of a Poem, composed in Anticipation of leaving School</a></li> +<li><a href="#section2">Written in very Early Youth</a></li> +<li><a href="#section3">An Evening Walk</a></li> +<li><a href="#section4">Lines written while Sailing in a Boat at Evening</a></li> +<li><a href="#section5">Remembrance of Collins</a></li> +<li><a href="#section6">Descriptive Sketches taken during a Pedestrian Tour among the Alps</a></li> +<li><a href="#section7">Guilt and Sorrow; or, Incidents upon Salisbury Plain</a></li> +<li><a href="#section8">Lines left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree, which stands near the lake of Esthwaite, on a desolate part of the shore, commanding a beautiful prospect </a></li> +<li><a href="#section9">The Borderers</a></li> +<li><a href="#section10">The Reverie of Poor Susan</a></li> +<li><a href="#section12">1798: A Night Piece</a></li> +<li><a href="#section13">We are Seven</a></li> +<li><a href="#section14">Anecdote for Fathers</a></li> +<li><a href="#section15">"A whirl-blast from behind the hill" </a></li> +<li><a href="#section16">The Thorn</a></li> +<li><a href="#section17">Goody Blake and Harry Gill</a></li> +<li><a href="#section18">Her Eyes are Wild</a></li> +<li><a href="#section19">Simon Lee, the Old Huntsman</a></li> +<li><a href="#section20">Lines written in Early Spring</a></li> +<li><a href="#section21">To my Sister</a></li> +<li><a href="#section22">Expostulation and Reply</a></li> +<li><a href="#section23">The Tables Turned</a></li> +<li><a href="#section24">The Complaint of a Forsaken Indian Woman</a></li> +<li><a href="#section25">The Last of the Flock</a></li> +<li><a name="fp1"></a><a href="#section26">The Idiot Boy</a></li> +<li><a href="#section27">The Old Cumberland Beggar</a></li> +<li><a href="#section28">Animal Tranquillity and Decay </a></li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section29">Appendix I</a></li> +<li><a href="#section30">Appendix II</a></li> +<li><a href="#section31">Appendix III</a></li> +<li><a href="#section32">Appendix IV</a></li> +<li><a href="#section33">Appendix V</a></li> +<li><a href="#section34">Appendix VI</a></li> +<li><a href="#section35">Appendix VII</a></li> +<li><a href="#section36">Appendix VIII</a></li> + +</ul><br> +<br> +<hr> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="introduction">Preface</a></h2> +<br> +During the decade between 1879 and 1889 I was engaged in a detailed +study of Wordsworth; and, amongst other things, edited a library edition +of his Poetical Works in eight volumes, including the "Prefaces" and +"Appendices" to his Poems, and a few others of his Prose Works, such as +his <i>Description of the Scenery of the Lakes in the North of +England</i>. This edition was published by Mr. Paterson, Edinburgh, at +intervals between the years 1882 and 1886: and it was followed in 1889 +by a <i>Life of Wordsworth</i>, in three volumes, which was a +continuation of the previous eight.<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1">The</a> present edition is not a reproduction of those eleven volumes of +1882-9. It is true that to much of the editorial material included in +the latter—as well as in my <i>Memorials of Coleorton</i>, and in +<i>The English Lake District as interpreted in the Poems of +Wordsworth</i>—I can add little that is new; but the whole of what was +included in these books has been revised, corrected, and readjusted in +this one<a href="#f1"><sup>1</sup></a>. <i>Errata</i> in the previous volumes are corrected: +several thousand new notes have been added, many of the old ones are +entirely recast: the changes of text, introduced by Wordsworth into the +successive editions of his Poems, have all been revised; new +readings—derived from many MS. sources—have been added: while the +chronological order of the Poems has, in several instances, been +changed, in the light of fresh evidence.<br> +<br> +The distinctive features of my edition of 1882-6 were stated in the +Preface to its first volume. So far as these features remain in the +present edition, they may be repeated as follows: + +<table summary="details 1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>1.</b></td> + <td>The Poems are arranged in chronological order of composition, not +of publication. In all the collective editions issued by Wordsworth +during his lifetime, the arrangement of his poems in artificial groups, +based on their leading characteristics—a plan first adopted in +1815—was adhered to; although he not unfrequently transferred a poem +from one group to another. Here they are printed, with one or two +exceptions to be afterwards explained, in the order in which they were +written.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>2.</b></td> + <td>The changes of text made by Wordsworth in the successive +editions of his Poems, are given in footnotes, with the dates of the +changes.</td> + </tr> + <tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>3.</b></td> + <td>Suggested changes, written by the Poet on a copy of the +stereotyped edition of 1836-7—long kept at Rydal Mount, and bought, +after Mrs. Wordsworth's death, at the sale of a portion of the Library +at the Mount—are given in footnotes.</td> + </tr> + <tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>4.</b></td> + <td>The Notes dictated by Wordsworth to Miss Isabella Fenwick—a +dear friend of the Rydal Mount household, and a woman of remarkable +character and faculty—which tell the story of his Poems, and the +circumstances under which each was written, are printed in full.</td> + </tr> + <tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>5.</b></td> + <td>Topographical Notes—explanatory of allusions made by Wordsworth +to localities in the Lake District of England, to places in Scotland, +Somersetshire, Yorkshire, the Isle of Man, and others on the Continent +of Europe—are given, either at the close of the Poem in which the +allusions occur, or as footnotes to the passages they illustrate.</td> + </tr> + <tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>6.</b></td> + <td>Several complete Poems, and other fragments of verse, not +included in any edition of his Works published during Wordsworth's +lifetime, or since, are printed as an appendix to Volume VIII.</td> + </tr> + <tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>7.</b></td> + <td>A new Bibliography of the Poems and Prose Works, and of the +several editions issued in England and America, from 1793 to 1850, is +added.</td> + </tr> + <tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>8.</b></td> + <td>A new Life of the Poet is given.</td> + </tr> +</table><br> +<br> +These features of the edition of 1882-6 are preserved in that of 1896, +and the following are added: + +<table summary="details 2" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>1.</b></td> + <td>The volumes are published, not in library 8vo size, but—as the +works of every poet should be issued—in one more convenient to handle, +and to carry. Eight volumes are devoted to the Poetical Works, and among +them are included those fragments by his sister Dorothy, and others, +which Wordsworth published in his lifetime among his own Poems. They are +printed in the chronological order of composition, so far as that is +known.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>2,</b></td> + <td>In the case of each Poem, any Note written by Wordsworth +himself, as explanatory of it, comes first, and has the initials W. W., +with the date of its first insertion placed after it. Next follows the +Fenwick Note, within square brackets, thus [ ], and signed I. F.; and, +afterwards, any editorial note required. When, however, Wordsworth's own +notes were placed at the end of the Poems, or at the foot of the page, +his plan is adopted, and the date appended. I should have been glad, had +it been possible—the editors of the twentieth century may note this—to +print Wordsworth's own notes, <span style="color: #555555;">the Fenwick notes</span>, and <span style="color: #777777;">the Editor's</span> in +different type, and in type of a decreasing size; but the idea occurred +to me too late, <i>i.e</i>. after the first volume had been passed for +press. [Note: in pursuance of this aim, I have displayed the notes as above: Wordsworth's in black type, the Fenwick notes in <span style="color: #555555;">dark grey</span>, and the editor's own notes in <span style="color: #777777;">light grey</span>. I have not decreased the size, which would have made the text more difficult to read! html Ed.] +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>3.</b></td> + <td>All the Prose Works of Wordsworth are given in full, and follow +the Poems, in two volumes. The Prose Works were collected by Dr. +Grosart, and published in 1876. Extracts from them have since been +edited by myself and others: but they will now be issued, like the +Poems, in chronological order, under their own titles, and with such +notes as seem desirable.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>4.</b></td> + <td>All the Journals written by Dorothy Wordsworth at Alfoxden, Dove +Cottage, and elsewhere, as well as her record of Tours with her brother +in Scotland, on the Continent, etc., are published—some of them in +full, others only in part. An explanation of why any Journal is +curtailed will be found in the editorial note preceding it. Much new +material will be found in these Journals.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>5.</b></td> + <td>The Letters of William and Dorothy Wordsworth —with a few from +Mary and Dora Wordsworth—are arranged chronologically, and published by +themselves. Hitherto, these letters have been scattered in many +quarters—in the late Bishop of Lincoln's <i>Memoirs</i> of his uncle, +in <i>The Diary, Reminiscences, and Correspondence of Henry Crabb +Robinson</i>, in the <i>Memorials of Coleorton</i> and my own +<i>Life</i> of the Poet, in the <i>Prose Works</i>, in the +<i>Transactions of the Wordsworth Society</i>, in the <i>Letters of +Charles Lamb</i>, in the <i>Memorials of Thomas De Quincey</i>, and +other volumes; but many more, both of Wordsworth's and his sister's, +have never before seen the light. More than a hundred and fifty letters +from Dorothy Wordsworth to Mrs. Clarkson, the wife of the great +"slave-liberator," were sent to me some time ago by Mrs. Arthur +Tennyson, a relative of Mrs. Clarkson; and I have recently seen and been +allowed to copy, Wordsworth's letters to his early friend Francis +Wrangham, through the kindness of their late owner, Mr. Mackay of The +Grange, Trowbridge. Many other letters of great interest have recently +reached me.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>6.</b></td> + <td>In addition to a new Bibliography, and a Chronological Table of +the Poems, and the Prose Works, a Bibliography of Wordsworth Criticism +is appended. It includes most of the articles on the Poet, and notices +of his Works, which have appeared in Great Britain, America, and the +Continent of Europe. Under this head I have specially to thank Mrs. +Henry A. St. John of Ithaca, N.Y., a devoted Transatlantic +Wordsworthian, who has perhaps done more than any one—since Henry +Reed—to promote the study of her favourite poet in America. Mrs. St. +John's Wordsworth collection is unique, and her knowledge and enthusiasm +are as great as her industry has been. Professor E. Legouis of the +University of Lyons—who wrote an interesting book on Wordsworth's +friend, <i>Le Général Michel Beaupuy</i> (1891)—has sent me material +from France, which will be found in its proper place. Frau Professor +Gothein of Bonn, who has translated many of Wordsworth's poems into +German, and written his life, <i>William Wordsworth: sein Leben, seine +Werke, seine Zeitgenossen</i>, (1893), has similarly helped me in +reference to German criticism.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>7.</b></td> + <td>As the Poet's Letters, and his sister's Journals, will appear +in earlier volumes, the new <i>Life of Wordsworth</i> will be much +shorter than that which was published in 1889, in three volumes 8vo. It +will not exceed a single volume.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>8.</b></td> + <td>In the edition of 1882-6, each volume contained an etching of a +locality associated with Wordsworth. The drawings were made by John +M'Whirter, R.A., in water-colour; and they were afterwards etched by Mr. +C. O. Murray. One portrait by Haydon was prefixed to the first volume of +the <i>Life</i>. In each volume of this edition—Poems, Prose Works, +Journals, Letters, and Life—there will be a new portrait, either of the +poet, or his wife, or sister, or daughter; and also a small vignette of +a place associated with, or memorialised by Wordsworth in some way. The +following will be the arrangement.</td> +</tr></table> +<br> +<br> + +<table summary="location of illustrations" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <th>Volume</th> + <th>Contents</th> + <th>Portrait/Vignette</th> + <th>Location</th> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>I</td> + <td>Poems</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by W. Shuter</td> + <td>Cockermouth</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>II</td> + <td>Poems</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by Robert Hancock</td> + <td>Dame Tyson's Cottage, Hawkshead</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>III</td> + <td>Poems</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by Edward Nash</td> + <td>Room in St. John's College, Cambridge</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>IV</td> + <td>Poems</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by Richard Carruthers</td> + <td>Racedown, Dorsetshire</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>V</td> + <td>Poems</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by William Boxall</td> + <td>Alfoxden, Somersetshire</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>VI</td> + <td>Poems </td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by Henry William Pickersgill</td> + <td>Goslar</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>VII</td> + <td>Poems</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by Margaret Gillies</td> + <td>Dove Cottage</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>VIII</td> + <td>Poems</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by Benjamin R. Haydon</td> + <td>The Rock of Names, Thirlmere</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>IX</td> + <td>The Prose Works</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by Henry Inman</td> + <td>Gallow Hill, Yorkshire</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>X</td> + <td>The Prose Works</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by Margaret Gillies</td> + <td>Coleorton Hall, Leicestershire</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>XI</td> + <td>The Journals</td> + <td>Dorothy Wordsworth, (Artist unknown)</td> + <td>Allan Bank, Grasmere</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>XII</td> + <td>The Journals</td> + <td>Mary Wordsworth, by Margaret Gillies</td> + <td>Rydal Mount</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>XIII</td> + <td>Correspondence</td> + <td>Dora Wordsworth, by Margaret Gillies</td> + <td>Bolton Abbey</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>XIV</td> + <td>Correspondence</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth, by Edward C. Wyon</td> + <td>Blea Tarn</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>XV</td> + <td>Correspondence</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by by Thomas Woolner</td> + <td>Peele Castle</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>XVI</td> + <td>The Life</td> + <td>W. Wordsworth by Frederick Thrupp<br> + W. Wordsworth by Samuel Laurence<br> + W. Wordsworth by Benjamin R. Haydon</td> + <td>Grasmere Church and Churchyard</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +All the etchings will be prepared by H. Manesse. The portraits, with +many others, will be described in detail in a subsequent volume.<br> +<br> +In all editorial notes the titles given by Wordsworth to his Poems are +invariably printed in italics, not with inverted commas before and +after, as Wordsworth himself so often printed them: and when he gave no +title to a poem, its first line will be invariably placed within +inverted commas. This plan of using Italics, and not Roman letters, +applies also to the title of any book referred to by Wordsworth, or by +his sister in her Journals. Whether they put the title in italics, or +within commas, it is always <i>italicised</i> in this edition.<br> +<br> +A subsidiary matter such as this becomes important when one finds that +many editors of parts of the Works of Wordsworth, or of Selections from +them, have invented titles of their own; and have sent their volumes to +press without the slightest indication to their readers that the titles +were not Wordsworth's; mixing up their own notion of what best described +the contents of the Poem, or the Letter, with those of the writer. Some +have suppressed Wordsworth's, and put their own title in its place! +Others have contented themselves (more modestly) with inventing a title +when Wordsworth gave none. I do not object to these titles in +themselves. Several, such as those by Archbishop Trench, are suggestive +and valuable. What I object to is that any editor—no matter who—should +mingle his own titles with those of the Poet, and give no indication to +the reader as to which is which. Dr. Grosart has been so devoted a +student of Wordsworth, and we owe him so much, that one regrets to find +in "The Prose Works of Wordsworth" (1876) the following title given to +his letter to the Bishop of Llandaff, <i>Apology for the French +Revolution</i>. It is interesting to know that Dr. Grosart thought this +a useful description of the letter: but a clear indication should have +been given that it was not Wordsworth's. It is true that, in the general +preface to his volumes, Dr. Grosart takes upon himself the +responsibility for this title; but it should not have been printed as +the title in chief, or as the headline to the text. Similarly, with the +titles of the second and third of the three <i>Essays on Epitaphs</i>.<br> +<br> +As students of Wordsworth know, he issued a volume in 1838 containing +all his sonnets then written; and, at the close of that edition, he +added, "The six Sonnets annexed were composed as this Volume was going +through the Press, but too late for insertion in the class of +miscellaneous ones to which they belong." In 1884, Archbishop Trench +edited the sonnets, with an admirable introductory "Essay on the History +of the English Sonnet"; but, while Wordsworth gave no title to the 3rd +and the 4th of the six, "composed as the Volume was going through the +Press,"—either in his edition of 1838, <i>or in any subsequent +issue</i> of his Poems—his editor did so. He gave what are really +excellent titles, but he does not tell us that they are his own! He +calls them respectively <i>The Thrush at Twilight</i>, and <i>The Thrush +at Dawn</i>. Possibly Wordsworth would have approved of both of those +titles: but, that they are not his, should have been indicated.<br> +<br> +I do not think it wise, from an editorial point of view, even to print +in a "Chronological Table"—as Professor Dowden has done, in his +admirable Aldine edition—titles which were not Wordsworth's, without +some indication to that effect. But, in the case of Selections from +Wordsworth—such as those of Mr. Hawes Turner, and Mr. A. J. +Symington,—every one must feel that the editor should have informed his +readers <i>when</i> the title was Wordsworth's, and <i>when</i> it was +his own coinage. In the case of a much greater man—and one of +Wordsworth's most illustrious successors in the great hierarchy of +English poesy, Matthew Arnold—it may be asked why should he have put +<i>Margaret, or the Ruined Cottage</i>, as the title of a poem written +in 1795-7, when Wordsworth never once published it under that name? It +was an extract from the first book of <i>The Excursion</i>—written, it +is true, in these early years,—but only issued as part of the latter +poem, first published in 1814.<br> +<br> +The question of the number, the character, and the length of the Notes, +which a wise editor should append to the works of a great poet, (or to +any classic), is perhaps still <i>sub judice</i>. My own opinion is +that, in all editorial work, the notes should be illustrative rather +than critical; and that they should only bring out those points, which +the ordinary reader of the text would not readily understand, if the +poems were not annotated. For this reason, topographical, historical, +and antiquarian notes are almost essential. The Notes which Wordsworth +himself wrote to his Poems, are of unequal length and merit. It was +perhaps necessary for him to write—at all events it is easy to +understand, and to sympathise with, his writing—the long note on the +revered parson of the Duddon Valley, the Rev. Robert Walker, who will be +remembered for many generations as the "Wonderful Walker." The Poet's +editors have also been occasionally led to add digressive notes, to +clear up points which had been left by himself either dubious, or +obscure. I must plead guilty to the charge of doing so: e.g. the +identification of "The Muccawiss" (see <i>The Excursion</i>, book iii. +l. 953) with the Whip-poor-Will involved a great deal of laborious +correspondence years ago. It was a question of real difficulty; and, +although the result reached could now be put into two or three lines, I +have thought it desirable that the opinions of those who wrote about it, +and helped toward the solution, should be recorded. What I print is only +a small part of the correspondence that took place.<br> +<br> +On the other hand, it would be quite out of place, in a note to the +famous passage in the 4th book of <i>The Excursion</i>, beginning + +<blockquote>... I have seen<br> +A curious child applying to his ear</blockquote> + +to enter on a discussion as to the extent of Wordsworth's debt—if +any—to the author of <i>Gebir</i>. It is quite sufficient to print the +relative passage from Landor's poem at the foot of the page.<br> +<br> +All the Notes written by Wordsworth himself in his numerous editions +will be found in this one, with the date of their first appearance +added. Slight textual changes, however, or casual <i>addenda</i>, are +not indicated, unless they are sufficiently important. Changes in the +text of notes have not the same importance to posterity, as changes in +the text of poems. In the preface to the Prose Works, reference will be +made to Wordsworth's alterations of his text. At present I refer only to +his own notes to his Poems. When they were written as footnotes to the +page, they remain footnotes still. When they were placed by him as +prefaces to his Poems, they retain that place in this edition; but when +they were appendix notes—as e.g. in the early editions of "Lyrical +Ballads"—they are now made footnotes to the Poems they illustrate. In +such a case, however, as the elaborate note to <i>The Excursion</i>, +containing a reprint of the <i>Essay upon Epitaphs</i>—originally +contributed to "The Friend"—it is transferred to the Prose Works, to +which it belongs by priority of date; and, as it would be inexpedient to +print it twice over, it is omitted from the notes to <i>The +Excursion</i>.<br> +<br> +As to the place which Notes to a poet's works should occupy, there is no +doubt that numerous and lengthy ones—however valuable, or even +necessary, by way of illustration,—disfigure the printed page; and some +prefer that they should be thrown all together at the end of each +volume, or at the close of a series; such as—in Wordsworth's case—"The +River Duddon," "Ecclesiastical Sonnets," <i>The Prelude</i>, <i>The +White Doe of Rylstone</i>, etc. I do not think, however, that many care +to turn repeatedly to the close of a series of poems, or the end of a +volume, to find an explanatory note, helped only by an index number, and +when perhaps even that does not meet his eye at the foot of the page. I +do not find that even ardent Wordsworth students like to search for +notes in "appendices"; and perhaps the more ardent they are the less +desirable is it for them thus "to hunt the waterfalls."<br> +<br> +I have the greatest admiration for the work which Professor Dowden has +done in his edition of Wordsworth; but the <i>plan</i> which he has +followed, in his Aldine edition, of giving not only the Fenwick Notes, +but all the changes of text introduced by Wordsworth into his successive +editions, in additional editorial notes at the end of each volume—to +understand which the reader must turn the pages repeatedly, from text to +note and note to text, forwards and backwards, at times +distractingly—is for practical purposes almost unworkable. The reader +who examines Notes <i>critically</i> is ever "one among a thousand," +even if they are printed at the foot of the page, and meet the eye +readily. If they are consigned to the realm of <i>addenda</i> they will +be read by very few, and studied by fewer.<br> +<br> +To those who object to Notes being "thrust into view" (as it must be +admitted that they are in this edition)—because it disturbs the +pleasure of the reader who cares for the poetry of Wordsworth, and for +the poetry alone—I may ask how many persons have read the Fenwick +Notes, given together in a series, and mixed up heterogeneously with +Wordsworth's own Notes to his poems, in comparison with those who have +read and enjoyed them in the editions of 1857 and 1863? Professor Dowden +justifies his plan of relegating the Fenwick and other notes to the end +of each volume of his edition, on the ground that students of the Poet +<i>must</i> take the trouble of hunting to and fro for such things. I +greatly doubt if many who have read and profited—for they could not but +profit—by a perusal of Professor Dowden's work, <i>have</i> taken that +trouble, or that future readers of the Aldine edition will take it.<br> +<br> +To refer, somewhat more in detail, to the features of this edition.<br> +<br> + + +<table summary="publication details" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>1.</b></td> + <td><b>As to the <i>Chronological Order</i> of the Poems.</b><br> + <br> + The chief advantage of a chronological arrangement of the Works of any +author—and especially of a poet who himself adopted a different +plan—is that it shows us, as nothing else can do, the growth of his own +mind, the progressive development of his genius and imaginative power. +By such a redistribution of what he wrote we can trace the rise, the +culmination, and also—it may be—the decline and fall of his genius. +Wordsworth's own arrangement—first adopted in the edition of 1815—was +designed by him, with the view of bringing together, in separate +classes, those Poems which referred to the same (or similar) subjects, +or which were supposed to be the product of the same (or a similar) +faculty, irrespective of the date of composition. Thus one group was +entitled "Poems of the Fancy," another "Poems of the Imagination," a +third "Poems proceeding from Sentiment and Reflection," a fourth +"Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces," again "Poems on the Naming of Places," +"Memorials of Tours," "Ecclesiastical Sonnets," "Miscellaneous Sonnets," +etc. The principle which guided him in this was obvious enough. It was, +in some respects, a most natural arrangement; and, in now adopting a +chronological order, the groups, which he constructed with so much care, +are broken up. Probably every author would attach more importance to a +classification of his Works, which brought them together under +appropriate headings, irrespective of date, than to a method of +arrangement which exhibited the growth of his own mind; and it may be +taken for granted that posterity would not think highly of any author +who attached special value to this latter element. None the less +posterity may wish to trace the gradual development of genius, in the +imaginative writers of the past, by the help of such a subsequent +rearrangement of their Works.<br> +<br> +There are difficulties, however, in the way of such a rearrangement, +some of which, in Wordsworth's case, cannot be entirely surmounted. In +the case of itinerary Sonnets, referring to the same subject, the +dismemberment of a series—carefully arranged by their author—seems to +be specially unnatural. But Wordsworth himself sanctioned the principle. +If there was a fitness in collecting all his sonnets in one volume in +the year 1838, out of deference to the wishes of his friends, in order +that these poems might be "brought under the eye at once"—thus removing +them from their original places, in his collected works—it seems +equally fitting now to rearrange them chronologically, as far as it is +possible to do so. It will be seen that it is not always possible.<br> +<br> +Then, there is the case of two Poems following each other, in +Wordsworth's own arrangement, by natural affinity; such as the +<i>Epistle to Sir George Beaumont</i>, written in 1811, which in almost +all existing editions is followed by the Poem written in 1841, and +entitled, <i>Upon perusing the foregoing Epistle thirty years after its +composition</i>; or, the dedication to <i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i>, +written in April 1815, while the Poem itself was written in 1807. To +separate these Poems seems unnatural; and, as it would be inadmissible +to print the second of the two twice over—once as a sequel to the first +poem, and again in its chronological place—adherence to the latter plan +has its obvious disadvantage in the case of these poems.<br> +<br> +Mr. Aubrey de Vere is very desirous that I should arrange all the "Poems +dedicated to National Independence and Liberty" together in series, as +Wordsworth left them, "on the principle that, though the order of +publication should as a rule be the order of composition in poetry, all +rules require, as well as admit of, exceptions." As I have the greatest +respect for the judgment of such an authority as Mr. de Vere, I may +explain that I only venture to differ from him because there are +seventy-four Poems—including the sonnets and odes—in this series, and +because they cover a period ranging from 1802 to 1815. I am glad, +however, that many of these sonnets can be printed together, especially +the earlier ones of 1802.<br> +<br> +After carefully weighing every consideration, it has seemed to me +desirable to adopt the chronological arrangement in this particular +edition; in which an attempt is made to trace the growth of Wordsworth's +genius, as it is unfolded in his successive works. His own arrangement +of his Poems will always possess a special interest and value; and it is +not likely ever to be entirely superseded in subsequent issues of his +Works. The editors and publishers of the future may possibly prefer it +to the plan now adopted, and it will commend itself to many readers from +the mere fact that <i>it was Wordsworth's own</i>; but in an edition +such as the present—which is meant to supply material for the study of +the Poet to those who may not possess, or have access to, the earlier +and rarer editions—no method of arrangement can be so good as the +chronological one. Its importance will be obvious after several volumes +are published, when the point referred to above—viz. the evolution of +the poet's genius—will be shown by the very sequence of the subjects +chosen, and their method of treatment from year to year.<br> +<br> +The date of the composition of Wordsworth's Poems cannot always be +ascertained with accuracy: and to get at the chronological order, it is +not sufficient to take up his earlier volumes, and thereafter to note +the additions made in subsequent ones. We now know (approximately) when +each poem was first published; although, in some instances, they +appeared in newspapers and magazines, and in many cases publication was +long after the date of composition. For example, <i>Guilt and Sorrow; +or, Incidents upon Salisbury Plain</i>—written in the years +1791-94—was not published <i>in extenso</i> till 1842. The tragedy of +<i>The Borderers</i>, composed in 1795-96, was also first published in +1842. <i>The Prelude</i>—"commenced in the beginning of the year 1799, +and completed in the summer of 1805"—was published posthumously in +1850: and some unpublished poems—both "of early and late years"—were +first issued in 1886. A poem was frequently kept back, from some doubt +as to its worth, or from a wish to alter and amend it. Of the five or +six hundred sonnets that he wrote, Wordsworth said "Most of them were +frequently re-touched; and, not a few, laboriously." Some poems were +almost entirely recast; and occasionally fugitive verses were withheld +from publication for a time, because it was hoped that they would +subsequently form part of a larger whole.<br> +<br> +In the case of many of the poems, we are left to conjecture the date of +composition, although we are seldom without some clue to it. The Fenwick +Notes are a great assistance in determining the chronology. These +notes—which will be afterwards more fully referred to—were dictated by +Wordsworth to Miss Fenwick in the year 1843; but, at that time, his +memory could not be absolutely trusted as to dates; and in some +instances we know it to have been at fault. For example, he said of +<i>The Old Cumberland Beggar</i> that it was "written at Racedown and +Alfoxden in my twenty-third year." Now, he went to Racedown in the +autumn of 1795, when he was twenty-five years old; and to Alfoxden, in +the autumn of 1797, when twenty-seven. Again, the poem <i>Rural +Architecture</i> is put down in the Fenwick note as "written at Townend +in 1801"; but it had been published in 1800, in the second edition of +"Lyrical Ballads." Similarly Wordsworth gave the dates "1801 or 1802" +for <i>The Reverie of Poor Susan</i>, which had also appeared in +"Lyrical Ballads," 1800.<br> +<br> +Wordsworth's memory was not always to be trusted even when he was +speaking of a group of his own Poems. For example, in the edition of +1807, there is a short series described thus, "Poems, composed during a +tour, chiefly on foot." They are numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Now, one would +naturally suppose that all the poems, in this set of five, were composed +during the same pedestrian tour, and that they all referred to the same +time. But the series contains <i>Alice Fell</i> (1802), <i>Beggars</i> +(1802), <i>To a Sky-Lark</i> (1805), and <i>Resolution and +Independence</i> (1802).<br> +<br> +Much more valuable than the Fenwick notes—for a certain portion of +Wordsworth's life—is his sister Dorothy's Journal. The mistakes in the +former can frequently be corrected from the minutely kept diary of those +early years, when the brother and sister lived together at Grasmere. The +whole of that Journal, so far as it is desirable to print it for +posterity, will be given in a subsequent volume.<br> +<br> +Long before the publication of the Fenwick notes, Wordsworth himself +supplied some data for a chronological arrangement of his Works. In the +table of contents, prefixed to the first collected edition of 1815, in +two volumes,—and also to the second collected edition of 1820, in four +volumes,—there are two parallel columns: one giving the date of +composition, and the other that of publication. There are numerous +blanks in the former column, which was the only important one; as the +year of publication could be ascertained from the editions themselves. +Sometimes the date is given vaguely; as in the case of the "Sonnets +dedicated to Liberty," where the note runs, "from the year 1807 to +1813." At other times, the entry of the year of publication is +inaccurate; for example, the <i>Inscription for the spot where the +Hermitage stood on St. Herbert's Island, Derwentwater</i>, is put down +as belonging to the year 1807; but this poem does not occur in the +volumes of 1807, but in the second volume of "Lyrical Ballads" (1800). +It will thus be seen that it is only by comparing Wordsworth's own lists +of the years to which his Poems belong, with the contents of the several +editions of his Works, with the Fenwick Notes, and with his sister's +Journal, that we can approximately reconstruct the true chronology. To +these sources of information must be added the internal evidence of the +Poems themselves, incidental references in letters to friends, and stray +hints gathered from various quarters.<br> +<br> +Many new sources of information as to the date of the composition of the +Poems became known to me during the publication of my previous edition, +and after its issue; the most important being the Journals of Dorothy +Wordsworth. These discoveries showed that my chronological table of +1882—although then, relatively, "up to date"—was incomplete. The +tables constructed by Mr. Tutin and by Professor Dowden are both more +accurate than it was. It is impossible to attain to finality in such a +matter; and several facts, afterwards discovered, and mentioned in the +later volumes of my previous edition, have been used against the +conclusions come to in the earlier ones. I have thus supplied the +feathers for a few subsequent critical arrows. The shots have not been +unkindly ones; and I am glad of the result, viz. that our knowledge of +the dates—both as to the composition and first publication of the poems +—is now much more exact than before. When a conjectural one is given in +this edition, the fact is always mentioned.<br> +<br> +This chronological method of arrangement, however, has its limits. It is +not possible always to adopt it: nor is it invariably <i>necessary</i>, +even in order to obtain a true view of the growth of Wordsworth's mind. +In this—as in so many other things—wisdom lies in the avoidance of +extremes; the extreme of rigid fidelity to the order of time on the one +hand, and the extreme of an irrational departure from it on the other. +While an effort has been made to discover the exact order of the +composition of the poems—and this is shown, not only in the +Chronological Table, but at the beginning of each separate poem—it has +been considered expedient to depart from that order in printing some of +the poems. In certain cases a poem was begun and laid aside, and again +resumed at intervals; and it is difficult to know to what year the +larger part of it should be assigned. When we know the date at which a +poem was commenced, and that it was finished "long afterwards," but have +no clue as to the year, it is assigned to the year in which it was +begun. For example, the <i>Address to Kilchurn Castle</i> was begun in +1803, but only the first three lines were written then. Wordsworth tells +us that "the rest was added many years after," but when we know not; and +the poem was not published till 1827. In such a case, it is placed in +this edition as if it belonged chronologically to 1803, and retains its +place in the series of Poems which memorialise the Tour in Scotland of +that year. On a similar principle, <i>The Highland Girl</i> is placed in +the same series; although Dorothy Wordsworth tells us, in her Journal of +the Tour, that it was composed "not long after our return from +Scotland"; and <i>Glen Almain</i>—although written afterwards at +Rydal—retains its published place in the memorial group. Again the +<i>Departure from the Vale of Grasmere, August 1803</i>, is prefixed to +the same series; although it was not written till 1811, and first +published in 1827. To give symmetry to such a Series, it is necessary to +depart from the exact chronological order—the departure being duly +indicated.<br> +<br> +On the same principle I have followed the <i>Address to the Scholars of +the Village School of ——</i>, by its natural sequel—<i>By the Side of +the Grave some Years after</i>, the date of the composition of which is +unknown: and the <i>Epistle to Sir George Beaumont</i> (1811) is +followed by the later Lines, to which Wordsworth gave the most prosaic +title—he was often infelicitous in his titles—<i>Upon perusing the +foregoing Epistle thirty years after its composition</i>. A like remark +applies to the poem <i>Beggars</i>, which is followed by its own +<i>Sequel</i>, although the order of date is disturbed; while all the +"Epitaphs," translated from Chiabrera, are printed together.<br> +<br> +It is manifestly appropriate that the poems belonging to a series—such +as the "Ecclesiastical Sonnets," or those referring to the +"Duddon"—should be brought together, as Wordsworth finally arranged +them; even although we may be aware that some of them were written +subsequently, and placed in the middle of the series. The sonnets +referring to "Aspects of Christianity in America"—inserted in the 1845 +and 1849-50 editions of the collected Works—are found in no previous +edition or version of the "Ecclesiastical Sonnets." <a name="fr2">These</a>, along with +some others on the Offices of the English Liturgy, were suggested to +Wordsworth by an American prelate, Bishop Doane, and by Professor Henry +Reed<a href="#f2"><sup>2</sup></a>; but we do not know in what year they were written. The +"Ecclesiastical Sonnets"—first called "Ecclesiastical Sketches"—were +written in the years 1820-22. The above additions to them appeared +twenty-five years afterwards; but they ought manifestly to retain their +place, as arranged by Wordsworth in the edition of 1845. The case is +much the same with regard to the "Duddon Sonnets." They were first +published in 1820: but No. xiv. beginning: + +<blockquote>O mountain Stream! the Shepherd and his Cot,</blockquote> + +was written in the year 1806, and appears in the edition of 1807. This +sonnet will be printed in the series to which it belongs, and not in its +chronological place. I <a name="fr3">think</a> it would be equally unjust to remove it +from the group—in which it helps to form a unity—and to print it twice +over<a href="#f3"><sup>3</sup></a>. On the other hand, the series of "Poems composed during a Tour +in Scotland, and on the English Border, in the Autumn of 1831"—and +first published in the year 1835, in the volume entitled "Yarrow +Revisited, and Other Poems"—contains two, which Wordsworth himself +tells us were composed earlier; and there is no reason why these poems +should not be restored to their chronological place. The series of +itinerary sonnets, published along with them in the Yarrow volume of +1835, is the record of another Scottish tour, taken in the year 1833; +and Wordsworth says of them that they were "composed <i>or suggested</i> +during a tour in the summer of 1833." We cannot now discover which of +them were written during the tour, and which at Rydal Mount after his +return; but it is obvious that they should be printed in the order in +which they were left by him, in 1835. It may be noted that almost all +the "Evening Voluntaries" belong to these years—1832 to 1835—when the +author was from sixty-two to sixty-five years of age.<br> +<br> +Wordsworth's habit of revision may perhaps explain the mistakes into +which he occasionally fell as to the dates of his Poems, and the +difficulty of reconciling what he says, as to the year of composition, +with the date assigned by his sister in her Journal. When he says +"written in 1801, or 1802," he may be referring to the last revision +which he gave to his work. Certain it is, however, that he sometimes +gave a date for the composition, which was subsequent to the publication +of the poem in question.<br> +<br> +In the case of those poems to which no date was attached, I have tried +to find a clue by which to fix an approximate one. Obviously, it would +not do to place all the undated poems in a class by themselves. Such an +arrangement would be thoroughly artificial; and, while we are in many +instances left to conjecture, we can always say that such and such a +poem was composed not later than a particular year. When the precise +date is undiscoverable, I have thought it best to place the poem in or +immediately before the year in which it was first published.<br> +<br> +Poems which were several years in process of composition, having been +laid aside, and taken up repeatedly; <i>e.g. The Prelude</i>, which was +composed between the years 1799 and 1805—are placed in the year in +which they were finished. Disputable questions as to the date of any +poem are dealt with in the editorial note prefixed or appended to it.<br> +<br> +There is one Poem which I have intentionally placed out of its +chronological place, viz. the <i>Ode, Intimations of Immortality from +Recollections of Early Childhood</i>. It was written at intervals from +1803 to 1806, and was first published in the edition of 1807, where it +stood at the end of the second volume. In every subsequent edition of +the collected Works—1815 to 1850—it closed the groups of poems; <i>The +Excursion</i> only following it, in a volume of its own. This was an +arrangement made by Wordsworth, of set purpose, and steadily adhered +to—the <i>Ode</i> forming as it were the High Altar of his poetic +Cathedral. As he wished it to retain that place in subsequent editions +of his Works, it retains it in this one.<br> +<br> +Mr. <a name="fr4">Arnold's</a> arrangement of the Poems, in his volume of Selections<a href="#f4"><sup>4</sup></a>, +is extremely interesting and valuable; but, as to the method of grouping +adopted, I am not sure that it is better than Wordsworth's own. As a +descriptive title, "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection" is quite as good +as "Poems akin to the Antique," and "Poems of the Fancy" quite as +appropriate as "Poems of Ballad Form."<br> +<br> +Wordsworth's arrangement of his Poems in groups was psychologically very +interesting; but it is open to many objections. Unfortunately Wordsworth +was not himself consistent—in the various editions issued by +himself—either in the class into which he relegated each poem, or the +order in which he placed it there. There is tantalising topsy-turvyism +in this, so that an editor who adopts it is almost compelled to select +Wordsworth's latest grouping, which was not always his best.<br> +<br> +Sir William Rowan Hamilton wrote to Mr. Aubrey de Vere in 1835 that Dora +Wordsworth told him that her father "was sometimes at a loss whether to +refer her to the 'Poems of the Imagination,' or the 'Poems of the +Fancy,' for some particular passage." <a name="fr5">Aubrey</a> de Vere himself considered +Wordsworth's arrangement as "a parade of system," and wrote of it, "I +cannot help thinking that in it, he mistakes classification for method."<a href="#f5"><sup>5</sup></a> I confess that it is often difficult to see why some of the poems +were assigned by their author to the realm of the "Fancy," the +"Imagination," and "Sentiment and Reflection" respectively. In a note to +<i>The Horn of Egremont Castle</i> (edition 1815) Wordsworth speaks of +it as "referring to the imagination," rather than as being "produced by +it"; and says that he would not have placed it amongst his "Poems of the +Imagination," "but to avoid a needless multiplication of classes"; and +in the editions of 1827 and 1832 he actually included the great +<i>Ode</i> on Immortality among his "Epitaphs and Elegiac Poems"! As +late as 27th September 1845, he wrote to Professor Henry Reed, + +<blockquote>"Following your example" (<i>i.e</i>. the example set in Reed's American +edition of the Poems), "I have greatly extended the class entitled +'Poems of the Imagination,' thinking as you must have done that, if +Imagination were predominant in the class, it was not indispensable that +it should pervade every poem which it contained. Limiting the class as I +had done before, seemed to imply, and to the uncandid or observing did +so, that the faculty, which is the <i>primum mobile</i> in poetry, had +little to do, in the estimation of the author, with pieces not arranged +under that head. I therefore feel much obliged to you for suggesting by +your practice the plan which I have adopted."</blockquote> + +Could anything show more explicitly than this that Wordsworth was not +perfectly satisfied with his own artificial groups? <a name="fr6">Professor</a> Reed, in +his American edition of 1837, however, acted on Wordsworth's expressed +intention of distributing the contents of "Yarrow Revisited, and Other +Poems" amongst the classes. He tells us that he "interspersed the +contents of this volume among the Poems already arranged" by Wordsworth<a href="#f6"><sup>6</sup></a>.<br> +<br> +It may also be mentioned that not only members of his own household, but +many of Wordsworth's friends—notably Charles Lamb—expressed a +preference for a different arrangement of his Poems from that which he +had adopted.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>2.</b></td> + <td><b>The various Readings, or variations of text,</b><br> + <br>made by Wordsworth +during his lifetime, or written by him on copies of his Poems, or +discovered in MS. letters, from himself, or his sister, or his wife, are +given in footnotes in this edition. Few English poets changed their text +more frequently, or with more fastidiousness, than Wordsworth did. He +did not always alter it for the better. Every alteration however, which +has been discovered by me, whether for the better or for the worse, is +here printed in full. We <a name="fr7">have</a> thus a record of the fluctuations of his +own mind as to the form in which he wished his Poems to appear; and this +record casts considerable light on the development of his genius<a href="#f7"><sup>7</sup></a>.<br> +<br> +A knowledge of these changes of text can only be obtained in one or +other of two ways. Either the reader must have access to all the +thirty-two editions of Poems, the publication of which Wordsworth +personally supervised; or, he must have all the changes in the +successive editions, exhibited in the form of footnotes, and appended to +the particular text that is selected and printed in the body of the +work. It is extremely difficult—in some cases quite impossible—to +obtain the early editions. <a name="fr8">The</a> great public libraries of the country do +not possess them all<a href="#f8"><sup>8</sup></a>. It is therefore necessary to fall back upon the +latter plan, which seems the only one by which a knowledge of the +changes of the text can be made accessible, either to the general +reader, or to the special student of English Poetry.<br> +<br> +The <a name="fr9">text</a> which—after much consideration—I have resolved to place +throughout, in the body of the work, is Wordsworth's own final <i>textus +receptus</i>, i.e. the text of 1849-50, reproduced in the posthumous +edition of 1857<a href="#f9"><sup>9</sup></a>; and since opinion will doubtless differ as to the +wisdom of this selection, it may be desirable to state at some length +the reasons which have led me to adopt it.<br> +<br> +There are only three possible courses open to an editor, who wishes to +give—along with the text selected—all the various readings +chronologically arranged as footnotes. Either, +<ol type="1"> +<li>the earliest text may be taken, or</li> +<li>the latest may be chosen, or </li> +<li>the text may be +selected from different editions, so as to present each poem in its best +state (according to the judgment of the editor), in whatever edition it +is found.</li> +</ol> + A composite text, made up from two or more editions, would be +inadmissible.<br> +<br> +Now, most persons who have studied the subject know that Wordsworth's +best text is to be found, in one poem in its earliest edition, in +another in its latest, and in a third in some intermediate edition. I +cannot agree either with the statement that he always altered for the +worse, or that he always altered for the better. His critical judgment +was not nearly so unerring in this respect as Coleridge's was, or as +Tennyson's has been. It may be difficult, therefore, to assign an +altogether satisfactory reason for adopting either the earliest or the +latest text; and at first sight, the remaining alternative plan may seem +the wisest of the three. There are indeed difficulties in the way of the +adoption of any one of the methods suggested; and as I adopt the latest +text—not because it is always intrinsically the best, but on other +grounds to be immediately stated—it may clear the way, if reference be +made in the first instance to the others, and to the reasons for +abandoning them.<br> +<br> +As to a selection of the text from various editions, this would +doubtless be the best plan, were it a practicable one; and perhaps it +may be attainable some day. But Wordsworth is as yet too near us for +such an editorial treatment of his Works to be successful. The +fundamental objection to it is that scarcely two minds—even among the +most competent of contemporary judges—will agree as to what the best +text is. An edition arranged on this principle could not possibly be +acceptable to more than a few persons. Of course no arrangement of any +kind can escape adverse criticism: it would be most unfortunate if it +did. But this particular edition would fail in its main purpose, if +questions of individual taste were made primary, and not secondary; and +an arrangement, which gave scope for the arbitrary selection of +particular texts,—according to the wisdom, or the want of wisdom, of +the editor,—would deservedly meet with severe criticism in many +quarters. Besides, such a method of arrangement would not indicate the +growth of the Poet's mind, and the development of his genius. If an +editor wished to indicate his own opinion of the best text for each +poem—under the idea that his judgment might be of some use to other +people—it would be wiser to do so by means of some mark or marginal +note, than by printing his selected text in the main body of the work. +He could thus at once preserve the chronological order of the readings, +indicate his own preference, and leave it to others to select what they +preferred. Besides, the compiler of such an edition would often find +himself in doubt as to what the best text really was, the merit of the +different readings being sometimes almost equal, or very nearly +balanced; and, were he to endeavour to get out of the difficulty by +obtaining the judgments of literary men, or even of contemporary poets, +he would find that their opinions would in most cases be dissimilar, if +they did not openly conflict. Those who cannot come to a final decision +as to their own text would not be likely to agree as to the merits of +particular readings in the poems of their predecessors. Unanimity of +opinion on this point is indeed quite unattainable.<br> +<br> +Nevertheless, it would be easy for an editor to show the unfortunate +result of keeping rigorously either to the latest or to the earliest +text of Wordsworth. If, on the one hand, the latest were taken, it could +be shown that many of the changes introduced into it were for the worse, +and some of them very decidedly so. For example, in the poem <i>To a +Skylark</i>—composed in 1825—the second verse, retained in the +editions of 1827, 1832, 1836, and 1843, was unaccountably dropped out in +the editions of 1845 and 1849. The following is the complete poem of +1825, as published in 1827. + +<blockquote>Ethereal Minstrel! Pilgrim of the sky!<br> +Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?<br> +Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye<br> +Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?<br> +Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,<br> +Those quivering wings composed, that music still!<br><br> + +To the last point of vision, and beyond,<br> +Mount, daring Warbler! that love-prompted strain,<br> +('Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond)<br> +Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain:<br> +Yet might'st thou seem, proud privilege! to sing<br> +All independent of the leafy spring.<br><br> + +Leave to the Nightingale her shady wood;<br> +A privacy of glorious light is thine;<br> +Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood<br> +Of harmony, with rapture more divine;<br> +Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;<br> +True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!</blockquote> + +There is no doubt that the first and third stanzas are the finest, and +some may respect the judgment that cut down the Poem by the removal of +its second verse: but others will say, if it was right that such a verse +should be removed, why were many others of questionable merit allowed to +remain? Why was such a poem as <i>The Glowworm</i>, of the edition of +1807, never republished; while <i>The Waterfall and the Eglantine</i>, +and <i>To the Spade of a Friend</i>, were retained? To give one other +illustration, where a score are possible. In the sonnet, belonging to +the year 1807, beginning: + +<blockquote>"Beloved Vale!" I said, "when I shall con,"</blockquote> + +we find, in the latest text, the lines—first adopted in 1827: + +<blockquote>I stood, of simple shame the blushing Thrall;<br> +So narrow seemed the brooks, the fields so small,</blockquote> + +while the early edition of 1807 contains the far happier lines: + +<blockquote>To see the Trees, which I had thought so tall,<br> +Mere dwarfs; the Brooks so narrow, Fields so small.</blockquote> + +On the other hand, if the earliest text be invariably retained, some of +the best poems will be spoiled (or the improvements lost), since +Wordsworth did usually alter for the better. For example, few persons +will doubt that the form in which the second stanza of the poem <i>To +the Cuckoo</i> (written in 1802) appeared in 1845, is an improvement on +all its predecessors. I give the readings of 1807, 1815, 1820, 1827, and +1845. + +<table summary="cuckoo!" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>While I am lying on the grass,<br> +I hear thy restless shout:<br> +From hill to hill it seems to pass,<br> +About, and all about! </td> + <td>1807</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>While I am lying on the grass,<br> +Thy loud note smites my ear!—<br> +From hill to hill it seems to pass,<br> +At once far off and near! </td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>While I am lying on the grass,<br> +Thy loud note smites my ear!<br> +It seems to fill the whole air's space,<br> +At once far off and near. </td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>While I am lying on the grass<br> +Thy twofold shout I hear,<br> +That seems to fill the whole air's space,<br> +As loud far off as near. </td> + <td>1827</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>While I am lying on the grass<br> +Thy twofold shout I hear,<br> +From hill to hill it seems to pass,<br> +At once far off, and near. </td> + <td>1845</td> +</tr> +</table> +Similarly, in each of the three poems <i>To the Daisy</i>, composed in +1802, and in the <i>Afterthought, to the Duddon</i>, the alterations +introduced into the latest editions were all improvements upon the early +version.<br> +<br> +It might be urged that these considerations would warrant the +interference of an editor, and justify him in selecting the text which +he thought the best upon the whole; but this must be left to posterity. +When editors can escape the bias of contemporary thought and feeling, +when their judgments are refined by distance and mellowed by the new +literary standards of the intervening years,—when in fact Wordsworth is +as far away from his critics as Shakespeare now is—it may be possible +to adjust a final text. But the task is beyond the power of the present +generation.<br> +<br> +It may farther be urged that if this reasoning be valid,—and if, for +the present, one text must be retained uniformly throughout,—the +natural plan is to take the earliest, and not the latest; and this has +some recommendations. It seems more simple, more natural, and certainly +the easiest. We have a natural sequence, if we begin with the earliest +and go on to the latest readings. Then, all the readers of Wordsworth, +who care to possess or to consult the present edition, will doubtless +possess one or other of the complete copies of his works, which contain +his final text; while probably not one in twenty have ever seen the +first edition of any of his poems, with the exception of <i>The +Prelude</i>. It is true that if the reader turns to a footnote to +compare the versions of different years, while he is reading for the +sake of the poetry, he will be so distracted that the effect of the poem +as a whole will be entirely lost; because the critical spirit, which +judges of the text, works apart from the spirit of sympathetic +appreciation, in which all poetry should be read. But it is not +necessary to turn to the footnotes, and to mark what may be called the +literary growth of a poem, while it is being read for its own sake: and +these notes are printed in smaller type, so as not to obtrude themselves +on the eye of the reader.<br> +<br> +Against the adoption of the earlier text, there is this fatal objection, +that if it is to be done at all, it must be done throughout; and, in the +earliest poems Wordsworth wrote—viz. <i>An Evening Walk</i> and +<i>Descriptive Sketches</i>,—the subsequent alterations almost amounted +to a cancelling of the earlier version. His changes were all, or almost +all, unmistakably for the better. Indeed, there was little in these +works—in the form in which they first appeared—to lead to the belief +that an original poet had arisen in England. It is true that Coleridge +saw in them the signs of the dawn of a new era, and wrote thus of +<i>Descriptive Sketches</i>, before he knew its author, "Seldom, if +ever, was the emergence of a great and original poetic genius above the +literary horizon more evidently announced." <a name="fr10">Nevertheless</a> the earliest +text of these <i>Sketches</i> is, in many places, so artificial, +prosaic, and dull, that its reproduction (except as an appendix, or in +the form of footnotes) would be an injustice to Wordsworth.<a href="#f10"><sup>10</sup></a> On the +other hand, the passages subsequently cancelled are so numerous, and so +long, that if placed in footnotes the latter would in some instances be +more extensive than the text. The quarto of 1793 will therefore be +reprinted in full as an Appendix to the first volume of this edition. +The <i>School Exercise written at Hawkshead</i> in the poet's fourteenth +year, will be found in vol. viii. Passing over these juvenile efforts, +there are poems—such as <i>Guilt and Sorrow</i>, <i>Peter Bell</i>, and +many others—in which the earlier text is an inferior one, which was +either corrected or abandoned by Wordsworth in his maturer years. It +would be a conspicuous blunder to print— in the place of honour,—the +crude original which was afterwards repudiated by its author.<br> +<br> +It <a name="fr11">may</a> be remembered, in connection with Wordsworth's text, that he +himself said, "I am for the most part uncertain about my success in +altering poems; but, in this case" (he is speaking of an insertion) "I +am sure I have produced a great improvement." (<i>Memoirs of +Wordsworth</i>, vol. i. p. 174.)<a href="#f11"><sup>11</sup></a> Again, in writing to Mr. Dyce in +1830, "You know what importance I attach to following strictly the last +copy of the text of an author."<br> +<br> +It is also worthy of note that the study of their chronology casts some +light on the changes which the poems underwent. The second edition of +"Lyrical Ballads" appeared in 1800. In that edition the text of 1798 is +scarcely altered: but, in the year in which it was published, Wordsworth +was engrossed with his settlement at Grasmere; and, in the springtime of +creative work, he probably never thought of revising his earlier pieces. +In the year 1800, he composed at least twenty-five new poems. The third +edition of "Lyrical Ballads" appeared in 1802; and during that year he +wrote forty-three new poems, many of them amongst the most perfect of +his Lyrics. His critical instinct had become much more delicate since +1800: and it is not surprising to find—as we do find—that between the +text of the "Lyrical Ballads" of 1800, and that of 1802, there are many +important variations. This is seen, for example, in the way in which he +dealt with <i>The Female Vagrant</i>, which is altered throughout. Its +early redundance is pruned away; and, in many instances, the final text, +sanctioned in 1845, had been adopted in 1803. Without going into further +detail, it is sufficient to remark that in the year 1803 Wordsworth's +critical faculty, the faculty of censorship, had developed almost step +for step with the creative originality of his genius. In that prolific +year, when week by week, almost day by day, fresh poems were thrown off +with marvellous facility—as we see from his sister's Journal—he had +become a severe, if not a fastidious, critic of his own earlier work. A +further explanation of the absence of critical revision, in the edition +of 1800, may be found in the fact that during that year Wordsworth was +engaged in writing the "Preface" to his Poems; which dealt, in so +remarkable a manner, with the nature of Poetry in general, and with his +own theory of it in particular.<br> +<br> +A further reference to the <i>Evening Walk</i> will illustrate +Wordsworth's way of dealing with his earlier text in his later editions. +This Poem showed from the first a minute observation of Nature—not only +in her external form and colour, but also in her suggestiveness—though +not in her symbolism; and we also find the same transition from Nature +to Man, the same interest in rural life, and the same lingering over its +incidents that we see in his maturer poems. Nevertheless, there is much +that is conventional in the first edition of <i>An Evening Walk</i>, +published in 1793. I need only mention, as a sample, the use of the +phrase "silent tides" to describe the waters of a lake. When this poem +was revised, in the year 1815—with a view to its insertion in the first +edition of the collected works—Wordsworth merely omitted large portions +of it, and some of its best passages were struck out. He scarcely +amended the text at all. In 1820, however, he pruned and improved it +throughout; so that between this poem, as recast in 1820 (and reproduced +almost <i>verbatim</i> in the next two editions of 1827 and 1832), and +his happiest descriptions of Nature in his most inspired moods, there is +no great difference. But, in 1836, he altered it still further in +detail; and in that state practically left it, apparently not caring to +revise it further. In the edition of 1845, however, there are several +changes. So far as I can judge, there is one alteration for the worse, +and one only. The reading, in the edition of 1793, + +<blockquote>In these lone vales, if aught of faith may claim,<br> +Thin silver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame;<br> +When up the hills, as now, retreats the light,<br> +Strange apparitions mock the village sight,</blockquote> + +is better than that finally adopted, + +<blockquote>In these secluded vales, if village fame,<br> +Confirmed by hoary hairs, belief may claim;<br> +When up the hills, as now, retired the light,<br> +Strange apparitions mocked the shepherd's sight.</blockquote> + +It will be seen, however, from the changes made in the text of this +poem, how Wordsworth's observation of Nature developed, how thoroughly +dissatisfied he soon became with everything conventional, and discarded +every image not drawn directly or at first hand from Nature.<br> +<br> +The text adopted in the present edition is, for the reasons stated, that +which was finally sanctioned by Wordsworth himself, in the last edition +of his Poems (1849-50). The earlier readings, occurring in previous +editions, are given in footnotes; and it may be desirable to explain the +way in which these are arranged. It will be seen that whenever the text +has been changed a date is given in the footnote, <i>before</i> the +other readings are added. This date, which accompanies the reference +number of the footnote, indicates the year in which the reading finally +retained was first adopted by Wordsworth. <a name="fr12">The</a> earlier readings then +follow, in chronological order, with the year to which they belong;<a href="#f12"><sup>12</sup></a> +and it is in every case to be assumed that the last of the changes +indicated was continued in all subsequent editions of the works. No +direct information is given as to how long a particular reading was +retained, or through how many editions it ran. It is to be assumed, +however, that it was retained in all intermediate editions till the next +change of text is stated. It would encumber the notes with too many +figures if, in every instance in which a change was made, the +corresponding state of the text in all the other editions was indicated. +But if no new reading follows the text quoted, it is to be taken for +granted that the reading in question was continued in every subsequent +edition, until the date which accompanies the reference figure.<br> +<br> +Two illustrations will make this clear. The first is a case in which the +text was only altered once, the second an instance in which it was +altered six times. In the <i>Evening Walk</i> the following lines +occur + +<blockquote>The dog, loud barking, 'mid the glittering rocks, <br> +Hunts, where his master points, the intercepted flocks.</blockquote> + +And the footnote is as follows: + + +<table summary="comparison" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td> + <blockquote><br> +That, barking busy 'mid the glittering rocks,<br> + Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks;</blockquote> </td> + <td>1836<br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> + +In the light of what has been said above, and by reference to the +Bibliography, it will be seen from these two dates that the original +text of 1793—given in the footnote—was continued in the editions of +1820, 1827, and 1832 (it was omitted from the "extract" of 1815); that +it was changed in the year 1836; and that this reading was retained in +the editions of 1843, 1845, and 1849.<br> +<br> +Again, in <i>Simon Lee</i>, the lines occur: + +<blockquote>But what to them avails the land<br> +Which he can till no longer?</blockquote> + +And the following are the footnotes: + +<table summary="comparison" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote><br> + But what avails the land to them,<br> +Which they can till no longer? <br><br> + +"But what," saith he, "avails the land,<br> +Which I can till no longer? <br><br> + +But what avails it now, the land<br> +Which he can till no longer? <br><br> + +'Tis his, but what avails the land<br> +Which he can till no longer? <br><br> + +The time, alas! is come when he<br> +Can till the land no longer. <br><br> + +The time is also come when he<br> +Can till the land no longer. </blockquote></td> + <td>1845<br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br><br> + + 1827<br> + <br><br> + + 1832<br> + <br><br> + + 1837<br> + <br><br> + + 1840<br> + <br><br> + + C.</td> +</tr> +</table> +From this it will be seen that the text adopted in the first edition of +"Lyrical Ballads" in 1798 was retained in the editions of 1800, 1802, +1805, 1815, and 1820; that it was altered in each of the editions of +1827, 1832, 1837, 1840, as also in the MS. readings in Lord Coleridge's +copy of the works, and in the edition of 1845; and that the version of +1845 was retained in the edition of 1849-50. It should be added that +when a verse, or stanza, or line—occurring in one or other of the +earlier editions—was omitted from that of 1849, the footnote simply +contains the extract along with the date of the year or years in which +it occurs; and that, in such cases, the date does not follow the +reference number of the footnote, but is placed for obvious reasons at +the end of the extract.<br> +<br> +The same thing is true of <i>Descriptive Sketches</i>. In the year 1827, +there were scarcely any alterations made on the text of the poem, as +printed in 1820; still fewer were added in 1832; but for the edition of +1836 the whole was virtually rewritten, and in that state it was finally +left, although a few significant changes were made in 1845.<br> +<br> +Slight changes of spelling which occur in the successive editions, are +not mentioned. When, however, the change is one of transposition, +although the text remains unaltered,—as is largely the case in <i>Simon +Lee</i>, for example—it is always indicated.<br> +<br> +It will be further observed that, at the beginning of every poem, two +dates are given; the first, on the left-hand side, is the date of +composition; the second, on the right-hand side, is the date of the +first publication. In what class the poem first appeared, and the +changes (if any) which subsequently occurred in its title, are mentioned +in the note appended. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>3.</b></td> + <td>In the present edition <b>several suggested changes of text</b>, which +were written by Wordsworth on the margin of a copy of his edition of +1836-7, which he kept beside him at Rydal Mount, are published. These +MS. notes seem to have been written by himself, or dictated to others, +at intervals between the years 1836 and 1850, and they are thus a record +of passing thoughts, or "moods of his own mind," during these years. +Some of these were afterwards introduced into the editions of 1842, +1846, and 1849; others were not made use of. The latter have now a value +of their own, as indicating certain new phases of thought and feeling, +in Wordsworth's later years. I owe my knowledge of them, and the +permission to use them, to the kindness of the late Chief Justice of +England, Lord Coleridge. The following is an extract from a letter from +him: + +<blockquote> "<b>Fox Ghyll</b>, <b>Ambleside</b>, <i>4th October 1881</i>.<br> +<br> + "I have been long intending to write you as to the manuscript notes + and alterations in Wordsworth's poems, which you have had the + opportunity of seeing, and, so far as you thought fit, of using for + your edition. They came into my possession in this way. I saw them + advertised in a catalogue which was sent me, and at my request the + book was very courteously forwarded to me for my inspection. It + appeared to me of sufficient interest and value to induce me to buy + it; and I accordingly became the purchaser.<br> +<br> + "It is a copy of the edition in six volumes, the publication of which + began in the year 1836; and of the volume containing the collected + sonnets, which was afterwards printed uniformly with that edition. It + appears to have been the copy which Wordsworth himself used for + correcting, altering, and adding to the poems contained in it. As you + have seen, in some of the poems the Alterations are very large, + amounting sometimes to a complete rewriting of considerable passages. + Many of these alterations have been printed in subsequent editions; + some have not; two or three small poems, as far as I know, have not + been hitherto published. Much of the writing is Wordsworth's own; but + perhaps the larger portion is the hand-writing of others, one or more, + not familiar to me as Wordsworth's is.<br> +<br> + "How the volumes came to be sold I do not know.... Such as they are, + and whatever be their interest or value, you are, as far as I am + concerned, heartily welcome to them; and I shall be glad indeed if + they add in the least degree to make your edition more worthy of the + great man for whom my admiration grows every day I live, and my deep + gratitude to whom will cease only with my life, and my reason."</blockquote> + +This precious copy of the edition of 1836-7 is now the property of Lady +Coleridge. I re-examined it in 1894, and added several readings, which I +had omitted to note twelve years ago, when Lord Coleridge first showed +it to me. I should add that, since the issue of the volumes of 1882-6, +many other MS. copies of individual Poems have come under my notice; and +that every important variation of text in them is incorporated in this +edition.<br> +<br> +As it is impossible to discover the precise year in which the suggested +alterations of text were written by Wordsworth, on the margin of the +edition of 1836, they will be indicated, wherever they occur, by the +initial letter C. Comparatively few changes occur in the poems of early +years.<br> +<br> +A copy of the 1814 (quarto) edition of <i>The Excursion</i>, now in the +possession of a grandson of the poet, the Rev. John Wordsworth, Gosforth +Rectory, Cumberland—which was the copy Wordsworth kept at Rydal Mount +for annotation and correction, much in the same way as he kept the +edition of 1836-7—has also been kindly sent to me by its present owner, +for examination and use in this edition; and, in it, I have found some +additional readings.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>4.</b></td> + <td>In the present edition <b>all the Notes and Memoranda, explanatory +of the Poems, which Wordsworth dictated to Miss Fenwick</b>, are given in +full. Miss Fenwick lived much at Rydal Mount, during the later years of +the Poet's life; and it is to their friendship, and to her inducing +Wordsworth to dictate these Notes, that we owe most of the information +we possess, as to the occasions and circumstances under which his poems +were composed. These notes were first made use of—although only in a +fragmentary manner—by the late Bishop of Lincoln, in the <i>Memoirs</i> +of his uncle. They were afterwards incorporated in full in the edition +of 1857, issued by Mr. Moxon, under the direction of Mr. Carter; and in +the centenary edition. They were subsequently printed in <i>The Prose +Works of Wordsworth</i>, edited by Dr. Grosart; and in my edition of +1882-6. I am uncertain whether it was the original MS., written by Miss +Fenwick, or the copy of it afterwards taken for Miss Quillinan, to which +Dr. Grosart had access. The text of these Notes, as printed in the +edition of 1857, is certainly (in very many cases) widely different from +what is given in <i>The Prose Works</i> of 1876. I have made many +corrections—from the MS. which I have examined with care—of errors +which exist in all previously printed copies of these Notes, including +my own.<br> +<br> +What appears in this volume is printed from a MS., which Miss Quillinan +gave me to examine and copy, and which she assured me was the original +one. The proper place for these Fenwick Notes is doubtless that which +was assigned to them by the editor of 1857, viz. before the poems which +they respectively illustrate.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>5.</b></td> + <td><b>Topographical Notes</b>, explanatory of the allusions made by +Wordsworth to the localities in the English Lake District, and +elsewhere, are added throughout the volumes. This has already been +attempted to some extent by several writers, but a good deal more +remains to be done; and I may repeat what I wrote on this subject, in +1878.<br> +<br> +Many of Wordsworth's allusions to Place are obscure, and the exact +localities difficult to identify. It is doubtful if he cared whether +they could be afterwards traced out or not; and in reference to one +particular rock, referred to in the "Poems on the Naming of Places," +when asked by a friend to localise it, he declined; replying to the +question, "Yes, that—or any other that will suit!" There is no doubt +that, in many instances, his allusions to place are intentionally vague; +and, in some of his most realistic passages, he avowedly weaves together +a description of localities remote from each other.<br> +<br> +It is true that "Poems of Places" are not meant to be photographs; and +were they simply to reproduce the features of a particular district, and +be an exact transcript of reality, they would be literary photographs, +and not poems. Poetry cannot, in the nature of things, be a mere +register of phenomena appealing to the eye or the ear. No imaginative +writer, however, in the whole range of English Literature, is so +peculiarly identified with locality as Wordsworth is; and there is not +one on the roll of poets, the appreciation of whose writings is more +aided by an intimate knowledge of the district in which he lived. The +wish to be able to identify his allusions to those places, which he so +specially interpreted, is natural to every one who has ever felt the +spell of his genius; and it is indispensable to all who would know the +special charm of a region, which he described as "a national property," +and of which he, beyond all other men, may be said to have effected the +literary "conveyance" to posterity.<br> +<br> +But it has been asked—and will doubtless be asked again—what is the +use of a minute identification of all these places? Is not the general +fact that Wordsworth described this district of mountain, vale, and +mere, sufficient, without any further attempt at localisation? The +question is more important, and has wider bearings, than appears upon +the surface.<br> +<br> +It must be admitted, on the one hand, that the discovery of the precise +point in every local allusion is not necessary to an understanding or +appreciation of the Poems. But, it must be remembered, on the other +hand, that Wordsworth was never contented with simply copying what he +saw in Nature. <a name="fr13">Of</a> the <i>Evening Walk</i>—written in his eighteenth +year—he says that the plan of the poem + +<blockquote>"has not been confined to a particular walk or an individual place; a + proof (of which I was unconscious at the time) of my unwillingness to + submit the poetic spirit to the chains of fact and real circumstance. + The country is idealised rather than described in any one of its local + aspects."<a href="#f13"><sup>13</sup></a> </blockquote> + +<a name="fr14">Again</a>, he says of the <i>Lines written while Sailing in a Boat at +Evening</i>: + +<blockquote>"It was during a solitary walk on the banks of the Cam that I was + first struck with this appearance, and applied it to my own feelings + in the manner here expressed, changing the scene to the Thames, near + Windsor";<a href="#f14"><sup>14</sup></a></blockquote> + +<a name="fr15">and</a> of <i>Guilt and Sorrow</i>, he said, + +<blockquote>"To obviate some distraction in the minds of those who are well + acquainted with Salisbury Plain, it may be proper to say, that of the + features described as belonging to it, one or two are taken from other + desolate parts of England."<a href="#f15"><sup>15</sup></a> </blockquote> + +In <i>The Excursion</i> he passes from Langdale to Grasmere, over to +Patterdale, back to Grasmere, and again to Hawes Water, without warning; +and even in the case of the "Duddon Sonnets" he introduces a description +taken direct from Rydal. Mr. Aubrey de Vere tells of a conversation he +had with Wordsworth, in which he vehemently condemned the +ultra-realistic poet, who goes to Nature with + +<blockquote>"pencil and note-book, and jots down whatever strikes him most," + adding, "Nature does not permit an inventory to be made of her charms! + He should have left his pencil and note-book at home; fixed his eye as + he walked with a reverent attention on all that surrounded him, and + taken all into a heart that could understand and enjoy. Afterwards he + would have discovered that while much of what he had admired was + preserved to him, much was also most wisely obliterated. <i>That which + remained, the picture surviving in his mind, would have presented the + ideal and essential truth of the scene, and done so in large part by + discarding much which, though in itself striking, was not + characteristic.</i> In every scene, many of the most brilliant details + are but accidental." </blockquote> + +The two last sentences of this extract give admirable expression to one +feature of Wordsworth's interpretation of Nature. In the deepest poetry, +as in the loftiest music,—in Wordsworth's lyrics as in Beethoven's +sonatas—it is by what they unerringly suggest and not by what they +exhaustively express that their truth and power are known. "In what he +leaves unsaid," wrote Schiller, "I discover the master of style." It +depends, no doubt, upon the vision of the "inward eye," and the +reproductive power of the idealising mind, whether the result is a +travesty of Nature, or the embodiment of a truth higher than Nature +yields. On the other hand, it is equally certain that the identification +of localities casts a sudden light in many instances upon obscure +passages in a poem, and is by far the best commentary that can be given. +It is much to be able to compare the actual scene, with the ideal +creation suggested by it; as the latter was both Wordsworth's reading of +the text of Nature, and his interpretation of it. In his seventy-third +year, he said, looking back on his <i>Evening Walk</i>, that there was +not an image in the poem which he had not observed, and that he +"recollected the time and place where most of them were noted." In the +Fenwick notes, we constantly find him saying, "the fact occurred +strictly as recorded," "the fact was as mentioned in the poem"; and the +fact very often involved the accessories of place.<br> +<br> +Any one who has tried to trace out the allusions in the "Poems on the +Naming of Places," or to discover the site of "Michael's Sheepfold," to +identify "Ghimmer Crag," or "Thurston-Mere,"—not to speak of the +individual "rocks" and "recesses" near Blea Tarn at the head of Little +Langdale so minutely described in <i>The Excursion</i>,—will admit that +local commentary is an important aid to the understanding of Wordsworth. +If to read the <i>Yew Trees</i> in Borrowdale itself, + +<blockquote>in mute repose<br> +To lie, and listen to the mountain flood<br> +Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves,</blockquote> + +to read <i>The Brothers</i> in Ennerdale, or "The Daffodils" by the +shore of Ullswater, gives a new significance to these "poems of the +imagination," a discovery of the obscurer allusions to place or scene +will deepen our appreciation of those passages in which his idealism is +most pronounced. Every one knows Kirkstone Pass, Aira Force, Dungeon +Ghyll, the Wishing Gate, and Helm Crag: many persons know the Glowworm +Rock, and used to know the Rock of Names; but where is "Emma's Dell"? or +"the meeting point of two highways," so characteristically described in +the twelfth book of <i>The Prelude</i>? and who will fix the site of the +pool in Rydal Upper Park, immortalised in the poem <i>To M. H.</i>? or +identify "Joanna's Rock"? Many of the places in the English Lake +District are undergoing change, and every year the local allusions will +be more difficult to trace. Perhaps the most interesting memorial of the +poet which existed, viz. the "Rock of Names," on the shore of Thirlmere, +is now sunk under the waters of a Manchester reservoir. Other memorials +are perishing by the wear and tear of time, the decay of old buildings, +the alteration of roads, the cutting down of trees, and the modernising, +or "improving," of the district generally. All this is inevitable. But +it is well that many of the natural objects, over and around which the +light of Wordsworth's genius lingers, are out of the reach of +"improvements," and are indestructible even by machinery.<br> +<br> +If it be objected that several of the places which we try to +identify—and which some would prefer to leave for ever undisturbed in +the realm of imagination —were purposely left obscure, it may be +replied that Death and Time have probably now removed all reasons for +reticence, especially in the case of those poems referring to domestic +life and friendly ties. While an author is alive, or while those are +alive to whom he has made reference in the course of his allusions to +place, it may even be right that works designed for posterity should not +be dealt with after the fashion of the modern "interviewer." But +greatness has its penalties; and a "fierce light" "beats around the +throne" of Genius, as well as round that of Empire. Moreover, all +experience shows that posterity takes a great and a growing interest in +exact topographical illustrations of the works of great authors. The +labour recently bestowed upon the places connected with Shakespeare, +Scott, and Burns sufficiently attests this.<br> +<br> +The localities in Westmoreland, which are most permanently associated +with Wordsworth, are these: Grasmere, where he lived during the years of +his "poetic prime," and where he is buried; Lower Easdale, where he +passed so many days with his sister by the side of the brook, and on the +terraces at Lancrigg, and where <i>The Prelude</i> was dictated; Rydal +Mount, where he spent the latter half of his life, and where he found +one of the most perfect retreats in England; Great Langdale, and Blea +Tarn at the head of Little Langdale, immortalised in <i>The +Excursion</i>; the upper end of Ullswater, and Kirkstone Pass; and all +the mountain tracks and paths round Grasmere and Rydal, especially the +old upper road between them, under Nab Scar, his favourite walk during +his later years, where he "composed hundreds of verses." There is +scarcely a rock or mountain summit, a stream or tarn, or even a well, a +grove, or forest-side in all that neighbourhood, which is not +imperishably identified with this poet, who at once interpreted them as +they had never been interpreted before, and added + +<blockquote> the gleam,<br> +The light that never was, on sea or land,<br> +The consecration, and the Poet's dream.</blockquote> + +It may be worthy of note that Wordsworth himself sanctioned the +principle of tracing out local allusions both by dictating the Fenwick +notes, and by republishing his Essay on the topography of the Lakes, +along with the Duddon Sonnets, in 1820—and also, by itself, in +1822—"from a belief that it would tend materially to illustrate" his +poems.<br> +<br> +In this edition the topographical Notes usually follow the Poems to +which they refer. But in the case of the longer Poems, such as <i>The +Prelude</i>, <i>The Excursion</i>, and others, it seems more convenient +to print them at the foot of the page, than to oblige the reader to turn +to the end of the volume.<br> +<br> +From the accident of my having tried long ago— at Principal Shairp's +request—to do what he told me he wished to do, but had failed to carry +out, I have been supposed, quite erroneously, to be an <i>authority</i> +on the subject of "The English Lake District, as interpreted in the +Poems of Wordsworth." The latter, it is true, is the title of one of the +books which I have written about Wordsworth: but, although I visited the +Lakes in 1860,—"as a pilgrim resolute"—and have re-visited the +district nearly every year for more than a quarter of a century, I may +say that I have only a partial knowledge of it. Others, such as Canon +Rawnsley, Mr. Harry Goodwin, and Mr. Rix, for example, know many parts +of it much better than I do; but, as I have often had to compare my own +judgment with that of such experts as the late Dr. Cradock, Principal of +Brasenose College, Oxford, and others, I may add that, when I differ +from them, it has been only after a re-examination of their evidence, at +the localities themselves.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><b>6.</b></td> + <td>Several<b> Poems, and fragments of poems, hitherto unpublished</b>—or +published in stray quarters, and in desultory fashion—will find a place +in this edition; but I reserve these fragments, and place them all +together, in an Appendix to the last volume of the "Poetical Works." If +it is desirable to print these poems, in such an edition as this, it is +equally desirable to separate them from those which Wordsworth himself +sanctioned in his final edition of 1849-50.<br> +<br> +Every great author in the Literature of the World—whether he lives to +old age (when his judgment may possibly be less critical) or dies young +(when it may be relatively more accurate)—should himself determine what +portions of his work ought, and what ought not to survive. At the same +time,—while I do not presume to judge in the case of writers whom I +know less fully than I happen to know Wordsworth and his +contemporaries,—it seems clear that the very greatest men have +occasionally erred as to what parts of their writings might, with most +advantage, survive; and that they have even more frequently erred as to +what MS. letters, etc.,—casting light on their contemporaries—should, +or should not, be preserved. I am convinced, for example, that if the +Wordsworth household had not destroyed all the letters which Coleridge +sent to them, in the first decade of this century, the world would now +possess much important knowledge which is for ever lost. It may have +been wise, for reasons now unknown, to burn those letters, written by +Coleridge: but the students of the literature of the period would gladly +have them now.<br> +<br> +Passing from the question of the preservation of Letters, it is evident +that Wordsworth was very careful in distinguishing between the Verses +which he sent to Newspapers and Magazines, and those Poems which he +included in his published volumes. His anxiety on this point may be +inferred from the way in which he more than once emphasised the fact of +republication, e.g. in <i>Peter Bell</i> (1819) he put the following +prefatory note to four sonnets, which had previously appeared in +<i>Blackwood's Magazine</i>, and which afterwards (1828) appeared in the +<i>Poetical Album</i> of Alaric Watts, "The following Sonnets having +lately appeared in Periodical Publications are here reprinted."<br> +<br> +Some of the poems (or fragments of poems), included in the +<i>addenda</i> to Volume viii. of this edition, I would willingly have +left out (especially the sonnet addressed to Miss Maria Williams); but, +since they have appeared elsewhere, I feel justified in now reprinting +even that trivial youthful effusion, signed "Axiologus." I rejoice, +however, that there is no likelihood that the "Somersetshire Tragedy" +will ever see the light. When I told Wordsworth's successor in the +Laureateship that I had burned a copy of that poem, sent to me by one to +whom it had been confided, his delight was great. It is the chronicle of +a revolting crime, with nothing in the verse to warrant its publication. +The only curious thing about it is that Wordsworth wrote it. With this +exception, there is no reason why the fragments which he did not himself +republish, and others which he published but afterwards suppressed, +should not now be printed. The suppression of some of these by the poet +himself is as unaccountable, as is his omission of certain stanzas in +the earlier poems from their later versions. <a name="fr16">Even</a> the Cambridge +<i>Installation Ode</i>, which is so feeble, will be reprinted.<a href="#f16"><sup>16</sup></a> +<i>The Glowworm</i>, which only appeared in the edition of 1807, will be +republished in full. <i>Andrew Jones</i>,—also suppressed after +appearing in "Lyrical Ballads" of 1800, 1802, and 1805,—will be +replaced, in like manner. The youthful <i>School Exercise</i> written at +Hawkshead, the translation from the <i>Georgics</i> of Virgil, the poem +addressed <i>To the Queen</i> in 1846, will appear in their +chronological place in vol. viii. There are also a translation of some +French stanzas by Francis Wrangham on <i>The Birth of Love</i>-a poem +entitled <i>The Eagle and the Dove</i>, which was privately printed in a +volume, consisting chiefly of French fragments, and called <i>La petite +Chouannerie, ou Historie d'un College Breton sous l'Empire</i>—a sonnet +on the rebuilding of a church at Cardiff—an Election Squib written +during the Lowther and Brougham contest for the representation of the +county of Cumberland in 1818—some stanzas written in the Visitors' Book +at the Ferry, Windermere, and other fragments. Then, since Wordsworth +published some verses by his sister Dorothy in his own volumes, other +unpublished fragments by Miss Wordsworth may find a place in this +edition. I do not attach much importance, however, to the recovery of +these unpublished poems. The <a name="fr17">truth</a> is, as Sir Henry Taylor—himself a +poet and critic of no mean order—remarked,<a href="#f17"><sup>17</sup></a> + +<blockquote> "In these days, when a +great man's path to posterity is likely to be more and more crowded, +there is a tendency to create an obstruction, in the desire to give an +impulse. To gather about a man's work all the details that can be found +out about it is, in my opinion, to put a drag upon it; and, as of the +Works, so of the Life." </blockquote> + +The industrious labour of some editors in +disinterring the trivial works of great men is not a commendable +industry. All great writers have occasionally written trifles—this is +true even of Shakespeare—and if they wished them to perish, why should +we seek to resuscitate them? Besides, this labour—whether due to the +industry of admiring friends, or to the ambition of the literary +resurrectionist—is futile; because the verdict of Time is sure, and +posterity is certain to consign the recovered trivialities to kindly +oblivion. The question which should invariably present itself to the +editor of the fragments of a great writer is, "<i>Can these bones +live</i>?" If they cannot, they had better never see the light. Indeed +the only good reason for reprinting the fragments which have been lost +(because the author himself attached no value to them), is that, in a +complete collection of the works of a great man, some of them may have a +biographic or psychological value. But have we any right to reproduce, +from an antiquarian motive, what—in a literary sense—is either +trivial, or feeble, or sterile?<br> +<br> +We must, however, distinguish between what is suitable for an edition +meant either to popularise an author, or to interpret him, and an +edition intended to bring together all that is worthy of preservation +for posterity. There is <a name="fr18">great</a> truth in what Mr. Arnold has lately said +of Byron: + +<blockquote>"I question whether by reading everything which he gives us, +we are so likely to acquire an admiring sense, even of his variety and +abundance, as by reading what he gives us at his happier moments. +Receive him absolutely without omission and compromise, follow his whole +outpouring, stanza by stanza, and line by line, from the very +commencement to the very end, and he is capable of being tiresome."<a href="#f18"><sup>18</sup></a></blockquote> + +This is quite true; nevertheless, English literature demands a complete +edition of all the works of Byron: and it may be safely predicted that, +for weightier reasons and with greater urgency, it will continue to call +for the collected works of Wordsworth.<br> +<br> +It should also be noted that the fact of Wordsworth's having dictated to +Miss Fenwick (so late as 1843) a stanza from <i>The Convict</i> in his +note to <i>The Lament of Mary Queen of Scots</i> (1817), justifies the +inclusion of the whole of that (suppressed) poem in such an edition as +this.<br> +<br> +The fact that Wordsworth did not republish all his Poems, in his final +edition of 1849-50, is not conclusive evidence that he thought them +unworthy of preservation, and reproduction. It must be remembered that +<i>The Prelude</i> itself was a posthumous publication; and also that +the fragmentary canto of <i>The Recluse</i>, entitled "Home at +Grasmere"—as well as the other canto published in 1886, and entitled +(most prosaically) "Composed when a probability existed of our being +obliged to quit Rydal Mount as a residence"—were not published by the +poet himself. I am of opinion that his omission of the stanzas beginning: + +<blockquote> Among all lovely things my Love had been,</blockquote> + +and of the sonnet on his <i>Voyage down the Rhine</i>, was due to sheer +forgetfulness of their existence. Few poets remember all their past, +fugitive, productions. At the same time, there are other +fragments,—written when he was experimenting with his theme, and when +the inspiration of genius had forsaken him,—which it is unfortunate +that he did not himself destroy.<br> +<br> +Among the Poems which Wordsworth suppressed, in his final edition, is +the Latin translation of <i>The Somnambulist</i> by his son. This will +be republished, more especially as it was included by Wordsworth himself +in the second edition of his "Yarrow Revisited."<br> +<br> +It may be well to mention the <i>repetitions</i> which are inevitable in +this edition, + +<ol type="1"> +<li>As already explained, those fragments of <i>The +Recluse</i>—which were issued in all the earlier volumes, and +afterwards incorporated in <i>The Prelude</i>—are printed as they +originally appeared.</li> +<li>Short Notes are extracted from Dorothy +Wordsworth's <i>Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland</i> (1803), +which illustrate the Poems composed during that Tour, while the whole +text of that Tour will be printed in full in subsequent volumes.</li> +<li>Other fragments, including the lines beginning,</li> +</ol> + +<blockquote>Wisdom and Spirit of the universe,</blockquote> + +will be printed both by themselves in their chronological place, and in +the longer poem of which they form a part, according to the original +plan of their author.</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +A detail, perhaps not too trivial to mention, is that, in this +edition—at the suggestion of several friends —I have followed the +example of Professor Dowden in his Aldine edition, and numbered the +lines of almost all the poems—even the sonnets. <a name="fr19">When</a> I have not done +so, the reason will be obvious; viz. either the structure, or the +brevity, of the poem.<a href="#f19"><sup>19</sup></a><br> +<br> +In giving the date of each poem, I have used the word "composed," rather +than "written," very much because Wordsworth himself,—and his sister, +in her Journals—almost invariably use the word "composed"; although he +criticised the term as applied to the creation of a poem, as if it were +a manufactured article. In <a name="fr20">his</a> Chronological Table, Mr. Dowden adopts +the word "composed"; but, in his edition of the Poems, he has made use +of the term" written."<a href="#f20"><sup>20</sup></a><br> +<br> +No notice (or almost none) of misprints in Wordsworth's own text is +taken, in the notes to this edition. Sometimes an error occurred, and +was carried on through more than one edition, and corrected in the next: +e.g., in 'The Childless Father', the editions of 1827, 1832, and 1836 +have the line: + +<blockquote>Fresh springs of green boxwood, not six months before.</blockquote> + +In the 'errata' of the edition of 1836 this is corrected to "fresh +sprigs." There are other 'errata', which remained in the edition of +1849-50, e.g., in 'Rob Roy's Grave', "Vools" for "Veols," and mistakes +in quotations from other poets, such as "invention" for "instruction," +in Wither's poem on the Daisy. These are corrected without mention.<br> +<br> +I should perhaps add that, while I have included, amongst the +illustrative notes, extracts from Henry Crabb Robinson's 'Diary', etc., +many of them are now published for the first time. These voluminous MSS. +of Robinson's have been re-examined with care; and the reader who +compares the three volumes of the 'Diary', etc.—edited by Dr. +Sadler—with the extracts now printed from the original MS., will see +where sentences omitted by the original editor have been included.<br> +<br> +As this edition proceeds, my debt to many—who have been so kind as to +put their Wordsworth MSS. and memoranda at my disposal—will be +apparent.<br> +<br> +It is difficult to acknowledge duly my obligation to collectors of +autograph Letters—Mr. Morrison, the late Mr. Locker Lampson, the late +Mr. Mackay, of the Grange, Trowbridge, and a score of others— but, I +may say in general, that the kindness of those who possess Wordsworth +MSS. in allowing me to examine them, has been a very genuine evidence of +their interest in the Poet, and his work.<br> +<br> +My special thanks are due to Mr. Gordon Wordsworth, who has, in the +kindest manner and for many years, placed everything at my disposal, +which could further my labour on his grandfather's Works.<br> +<br> +Finally, I wish to express the great debt I owe to the late Mr. J. Dykes +Campbell, for many suggestions, and for his unwearied interest in this +work,— which I think was second only to his interest in Coleridge—and +also to Mr. W. B. Kinghorn for his valuable assistance in the revision +of proof sheets.<br> +<br> +If there are any desiderata, in reference to Wordsworth —in addition to +a new Life, a critical Essay, and such a Bibliography of Criticism as +will be adequate for posterity—a 'Concordance' to his works is one of +them. A correspondent once offered to prepare this for me, if I found a +publisher: and another has undertaken to compile a volume of 'parallel +passages' from the earlier poets of England, and of the world. A +Concordance might very well form part of a volume of 'Wordsworthiana', +and be a real service to future students of the poet.<br> +<br> +William Knight.<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="f1"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 1:</span></a> In addition to my own detection of errors in the text and +notes to the editions 1882-9, I acknowledge special obligation to the +late Vice-Chancellor of the Victoria University, Principal Greenwood, +who went over every volume with laborious care, and sent me the result. +To the late Mr. J. Dykes Campbell, to Mr. J. R. Tutin, to the Rev. +Thomas Hutchinson of Kimbolton, and to many others, I am similarly +indebted.<br> +<a href="#fr1">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f2"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 2:</span></a> See <i>Memoirs of William Wordsworth</i>, ii. pp. 113, +114.<br> +<a href="#fr2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f3"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 3:</span></a> It is however different with the fragments which were +published in all the editions issued in the poet's lifetime, and +afterwards in <i>The Prelude</i>, such as the lines on "the immortal +boy" of Windermere. These are printed in their chronological place, and +also in the posthumous poem.<br> +<a href="#fr3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f4"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 4:</span></a> <i>Poems of Wordsworth selected and arranged by Matthew +Arnold</i>. London: Macmillan and Co.<br> +<a href="#fr4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f5"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 5:</span></a> See the <i>Life of Sir W. Rowan Hamilton</i>, vol. ii. pp, +132, 135.<br> +<a href="#fr5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f6"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 6:</span></a> See the Preface to the American edition of 1837.<br> +<a href="#fr6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f7"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 7:</span></a> It need hardly be explained that, in the case of a modern +poet, these various readings are not like the conjectural guesses of +critics and commentators as to what the original text was (as in the +case of the Greek Poets, or of Dante, or even of Shakespeare). They are +the actual alterations, introduced deliberately as improvements, by the +hand of the poet himself.<br> +<a href="#fr7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f8"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 8:</span></a> The collection in the British Museum, and those in all the +University Libraries of the country, are incomplete.<br> +<a href="#fr8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f9"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 9:</span></a> The publication of this edition was superintended by Mr. +Carter, who acted as Wordsworth's secretary for thirty-seven years, and +was appointed one of his literary executors.<br> +<a href="#fr9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f10"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 10:</span></a> Let the indiscriminate admirer of "first editions" turn to +this quarto, and perhaps even he may wonder why it has been rescued from +oblivion. I am only aware of the existence of five copies of the edition +of 1793; and although it has a certain autobiographic value, I do not +think that many who read it once will return to it again, except as a +literary curiosity. Here—and not in "Lyrical Ballads" or <i>The +Excursion</i>—was the quarry where Jeffrey or Gifford might have found +abundant material for criticism.<br> +<a href="#fr10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f11"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 11:</span></a> It is unfortunate that the <i>Memoirs</i> do not tell us +to what poem the remark applies, or to whom the letter containing it was +addressed.<br> +<a href="#fr11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f12"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 12:</span></a> It is important to note that the printed text in several +of the editions is occasionally cancelled in the list of <i>errata</i>, +at the beginning or the end of the volume: also that many copies of the +early editions (notably those of 1800), were bound up without the full +<i>errata</i> list. In this edition there were two such lists, one of +them very brief. But the cancelled words in these <i>errata</i> lists, +must be taken into account, in determining the text of each edition.<br> +<a href="#fr12">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f13"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 13:</span></a> I. F. note. See vol. i. p. 5.<br> +<a href="#fr13">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f14"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 14:</span></a> I. F. note. See vol. i. p. 32.<br> +<a href="#fr14">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f15"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 15:</span></a> Advertisement. See vol. i. p. 78.<br> +<a href="#fr15">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f16"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 16:</span></a> How much of this poem was Wordsworth's own has not been +definitely ascertained. I am of opinion that very little, if any of it, +was his. It has been said that his nephew, the late Bishop of Lincoln, +wrote most of it; but more recent evidence tends to show that it was the +work of his son-in-law, Edward Quillinan.<br> +<a href="#fr16">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f17"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 17:</span></a> In a letter to the writer in 1882.<br> +<a href="#fr17">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f18"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 18:</span></a> <i>The Poetry of Byron, chosen and arranged by Matthew +Arnold</i>. London: Macmillan and Co.<br> +<a href="#fr18">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f19"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 19:</span></a> It may not be too trivial a fact to mention that +Wordsworth numbered the lines of his earliest publication, 'An Evening +Walk, in l793.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr19">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f20"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 20:</span></a> Another fact, not too trivial to mention, is that in the +original MS. of the 'Lines composed at Grasmere', etc., Wordsworth sent +it to the printer "Lines written," but changed it in proof to "Lines +composed."—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr20">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + + +<h2><a name="section1">Extract from the Conclusion of a Poem, composed in Anticipation of leaving School</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1786.—Published 1815</h4> + +<a href="#section1a">The Poem</a><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">This poem was placed by Wordsworth among his "Juvenile Pieces." The +following note was prefixed to that Series, from 1820 to 1832:</span> + +<blockquote> "Of the Poems in this class, "<b>The Evening Walk</b>" and "<b>Descriptive + Sketches</b>" were first published in 1793. They are reprinted with some + unimportant alterations that were chiefly made very soon after their + publication. It would have been easy to amend them, in many passages, + both as to sentiment and expression, and I have not been altogether + able to resist the temptation: but attempts of this kind are made at + the risk of injuring those characteristic features, which, after all, + will be regarded as the principal recommendation of juvenile poems."</blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">In 1836 "unimportant" was erased before "alterations"; and after +"temptation" the following was added, "as will be obvious to the +attentive reader, in some instances: these are few, for I am aware that +attempts of this kind," etc.</span> + +<blockquote> "The above, which was written some time ago, scarcely applies to the + Poem, 'Descriptive Sketches', as it now stands. The corrections, + though numerous, are not, however, such as to prevent its retaining + with propriety a place in the class of 'Juvenile Pieces.'"</blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">In the editions of 1845 and 1849, Wordsworth called his "Juvenile +Pieces," "Poems written in Youth."—Ed.</span> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;"> "Dear native regions," etc., 1786, Hawkshead. The beautiful image + with which this poem concludes suggested itself to me while I was + resting in a boat along with my companions under the shade of a + magnificent row of sycamores, which then extended their branches from + the shore of the promontory upon which stands the ancient, and at that + time the more picturesque, Hall of Coniston, the Seat of the Le + Flemings from very early times. The Poem of which it was the + conclusion, was of many hundred lines, and contained thoughts and + images, most of which have been dispersed through my other + writings.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">In the editions 1815 to 1832, the title given to this poem was 'Extract +from the conclusion of a Poem, composed upon leaving School'. The row of +sycamores at Hawkshead, referred to in the Fenwick note, no longer +exists.<br> +<br> +In <a name="frA">the</a> "Autobiographical Memoranda," dictated by Wordsworth at Rydal +Mount in November 1847, he says,</span> <blockquote>" .... I wrote, while yet a schoolboy, +a long poem running upon my own adventures, and the scenery of the +county in which I was brought up. The only part of that poem which has +been preserved is the conclusion of it, which stands at the beginning of +my collected Poems."<a href="#fA"><sup>A</sup></a></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">In the eighth book of 'The Prelude', (lines 468-475), this fragment is +introduced, and there Wordsworth tells us that once, when boating on +Coniston Lake (Thurston-mere) in his boyhood, he entered under a grove +of trees on its "western marge," and glided "along the line of +low-roofed water," "as in a cloister." He adds, </span> + +<blockquote>while, in that shade<br> +Loitering, I watched the golden beams of light<br> +Flung from the setting sun, as they reposed<br> +In silent beauty on the naked ridge<br> +Of a high eastern hill—thus flowed my thoughts<br> +In a pure stream of words fresh from the heart:</blockquote>Ed. +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section1a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>Dear native regions, I foretell,<br> +From what I feel at this farewell,<br> +That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend,<br> +And whensoe'er my course shall end,<br><br> + +If in that hour a single tie<br> +Survive of local sympathy,<br> +My soul will cast the backward view,<br> +The longing look alone on you.<br><br> + +Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest<br> +Far in the regions of the west,<br> +Though to the vale no parting beam<br> +Be given, not one memorial gleam,<br> +A lingering light he fondly throws<br> +On the dear hills where first he rose.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<a name="fr21"></a><a href="#f21"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr22"></a><a href="#f22"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr23"></a><a href="#f23"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr24"></a><a href="#f24"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr25"></a><a href="#f25"><sup>5</sup></a></td> + <td><a name="frB"></a><a href="#fB"><sup>B</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="fA"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> See the <i>Memoirs of William Wordsworth</i>, by Christopher +Wordsworth (1851), vol. i. pp. 10-31.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#frA">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fB"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> Compare the <i>Ode, composed in January 1816</i>, stanza +v.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#frB">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="f21"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1832</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... shall </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr21">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f22"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>That, when the close of life draws near,<br> + And I must quit this earthly sphere,<br> + If in that hour a tender tie </blockquote></td> + <td>MS.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr22">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f23"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845.</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Thus, when the Sun, prepared for rest,<br> + Hath gained the precincts of the West,<br> + Though his departing radiance fail<br> + To illuminate the hollow Vale, </blockquote></td> + <td>1815.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Thus, from the precincts of the West,<br> + The Sun, when sinking down to rest, </blockquote> </td> + <td>1832.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... while sinking ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1836.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Hath reached the precincts ... </blockquote> </td> + <td> MS.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr23">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f24"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> <table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> A lingering lustre fondly throws </blockquote></td> + <td>1832</td> +</tr> +</table> +The edition of 1845 reverts to the reading of 1815.<br> +<a href="#fr24">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f25"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>On the dear mountain-tops ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +The edition of 1845 returns to the text of 1815.<br> +<a href="#fr25">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h3><a name="section2">Written in very Early Youth</a></h3> + +<h4>Composed 1786<a href="#f1A"><span style="font-size: 70%;"><sup>A</sup></span></a>.—Published 1807<a href="#f1B"><span style="font-size: 70%;"><sup>B</sup></span></a></h4> + +<a href="#section2a">The Poem</a><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">From 1807 to 1843 this was placed by Wordsworth in his group of +"Miscellaneous Sonnets." In 1845, it was transferred to the class of +"Poems written in Youth." It is doubtful if it was really written in +"'very' early youth." Its final form, at any rate, may belong to a later +period.—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section2a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.<br> +The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;<br> +The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,<br> +Is cropping audibly his later meal:<br> +Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal<br> +O'er vale, and mountain, and the starless sky.<br> +Now, in this blank of things, a harmony,<br> +Home-felt, and home-created, comes to heal<br> +That grief for which the senses still supply<br> +Fresh food; for only then, when memory<br> +Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain<br> +Those busy cares that would allay my pain;<br> +Oh! leave me to myself, nor let me feel<br> +The officious touch that makes me droop again.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr31"></a><a href="#f31"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr32"></a><a href="#f32"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a href="#f1C"><sup>C</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="f1A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> The date of the composition of this fragment is quite +unknown.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#section2">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f1B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> But previously, in <i>The Morning Post</i>, Feb. 13, 1802.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#section2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f1C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> Canon Ainger calls attention to the fact that there is here +a parallel, possibly a reminiscence, from the 'Nocturnal Reverie' of +the Countess of Winchelsea. + + <blockquote> Whose stealing pace and lengthened shade we fear,<br> + Till torn-up forage in his teeth we hear.</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr31">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="f31"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Is up, and cropping yet ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1807</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr31">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f32"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1838</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... seems ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1807</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr32">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br><br> +<br> + + +<h2><a name="section3">An Evening Walk</a></h2> +<br> +<i>Addressed to a Young Lady</i><br> + +<h4>Composed 1787-9<span style="font-size: 70%;"><sup>A</sup></span>—Published 1793</h4> +<a href="#section3a">The Poem</a><br> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">The young Lady to whom this was addressed was my Sister. It was + composed at School, and during my first two College vacations. There + is not an image in it which I have not observed; and, now in my + seventy-third year, I recollect the time and place, when most of them + were noticed. I will confine myself to one instance:</span> + +<blockquote>Waving his hat, the shepherd, from the vale,<br> +Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,—<br> +The dog, loud barking, 'mid the glittering rocks,<br> +Hunts, where his master points, the intercepted flocks.</blockquote> + +<span style="color: #663300;"> I was an eye-witness of this for the first time while crossing the + Pass of Dunmail Raise. Upon second thought, I will mention another + image:</span> + +<blockquote>And, fronting the bright west, yon oak entwines<br> + Its darkening boughs and leaves, in stronger lines.</blockquote> + +<span style="color: #663300;"> This is feebly and imperfectly expressed, but I recollect distinctly + the very spot where this first struck me. It was on the way between + Hawkshead and Ambleside, and gave me extreme pleasure. The moment was + important in my poetical history; for I date from it my consciousness + of the infinite variety of natural appearances which had been + unnoticed by the poets of any age or country, so far as I was + acquainted with them; and I made a resolution to supply in some degree + the deficiency. I could not have been at that time above fourteen + years of age. The description of the swans, that follows, was taken + from the daily opportunities I had of observing their habits, not as + confined to the gentleman's park, but in a state of nature. There were + two pairs of them that divided the lake of Esthwaite, and its + in-and-out flowing streams, between them, never trespassing a single + yard upon each other's separate domain. They were of the old + magnificent species, bearing in beauty and majesty about the same + relation to the Thames swan which that does to the goose. <a name="fr2b">It</a> was from + the remembrance of those noble creatures, I took, thirty years after, + the picture of the swan which I have discarded from the poem of + 'Dion'. While I was a schoolboy, the late Mr. Curwen introduced a + little fleet of these birds, but of the inferior species, to the lake + of Windermere. Their principal home was about his own island; but they + sailed about into remote parts of the lake, and either from real or + imagined injury done to the adjoining fields, they were got rid of at + the request of the farmers and proprietors, but to the great regret of + all who had become attached to them from noticing their beauty and + quiet habits. I will conclude my notice of this poem by observing that + the plan of it has not been confined to a particular walk, or an + individual place; a proof (of which I was unconscious at the time) of + my unwillingness to submit the poetic spirit to the chains of fact and + real circumstance. The country is idealised rather than described in + any one of its local aspects.—I. F.</span><br> +<a href="#26A">cross-reference: return to Footnote A of <i>The Idiot Boy</i></a></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">The title of this poem, as first published in 1793, was <i>An Evening +Walk. An epistle; in verse. Addressed to a Young Lady, from the Lakes of +the North of England. By W. Wordsworth, B.A., of St. John's, Cambridge</i>. +Extracts from it were published in all the collected editions of the +poems under the general title of "Juvenile Pieces," from 1815 to 1843; +and, in 1845 and 1849, of "Poems written in Youth." The following +prefatory note to the "Juvenile Pieces" occurs in the editions 1820 to +1832. </span> + +<blockquote> "They are reprinted with some unimportant alterations that were + chiefly made very soon after their publication. It would have been + easy to amend them, in many passages, both as to sentiment and + expression, and I have not been altogether able to resist the + temptation: but attempts of this kind are made at the risk of injuring + those characteristic features, which, after all, will be regarded as + the principal recommendation of juvenile poems." </blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">To this, Wordsworth added, in 1836, </span> + +<blockquote> "The above, which was written some time ago, scarcely applies to the + Poem, <i>Descriptive Sketches</i>, as it now stands. The corrections, + though numerous, are not, however, such as to prevent its retaining + with propriety a place in the class of 'Juvenile Pieces.'" </blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">In May 1794 Wordsworth wrote to his friend Mathews, </span> + +<blockquote> "It was with great reluctance that I sent these two little works into + the world in so imperfect a state. But as I had done nothing at the + University, I thought these little things might show that I <i>could</i> do + something."</blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">Wordsworth's notes to this poem are printed from the edition of 1793. +Slight variations in the text of these notes in subsequent editions, in +the spelling of proper names, and in punctuation, are not noted.—Ed.</span> + +<blockquote> 'General Sketch of the Lakes—<br> +Author's regret of his Youth which was + passed amongst them—<br> +Short description of Noon—<br> +Cascade—<br> +Noon-tide Retreat—<br> +Precipice and sloping Lights—<br> +Face of Nature as the Sun + declines—<br> +Mountain-farm, and the + Cock—<br> +Slate-quarry—<br> +Sunset—<br> +Superstition of the Country connected with + that moment—<br> +Swans—<br> +Female Beggar—<br> +Twilight-sounds—<br> +Western + Lights—<br> +Spirits—<br> +Night—<br> +Moonlight—<br> +Hope—<br> +Night-sounds—<br> +Conclusion'.</blockquote> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section3a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>Far from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove<br> +Through bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral cove;<br> +Where Derwent rests, and listens to the roar<br> +That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore;<br> +Where peace to Grasmere's lonely island leads,<br> +To willowy hedge-rows, and to emerald meads;<br> +Leads to her bridge, rude church, and cottaged grounds,<br> +Her rocky sheepwalks, and her woodland bounds;<br> +Where, undisturbed by winds, Winander sleeps<br> +'Mid clustering isles, and holly-sprinkled steeps;<br> +Where twilight glens endear my Esthwaite's shore,<br> +And memory of departed pleasures, more.<br><br> + + Fair scenes, erewhile, I taught, a happy child,<br> +The echoes of your rocks my carols wild:<br> +The spirit sought not then, in cherished sadness,<br> +A cloudy substitute for failing gladness.<br> +In youth's keen eye the livelong day was bright,<br> +The sun at morning, and the stars at night,<br> +Alike, when first the bittern's hollow bill<br> +Was heard, or woodcocks roamed the moonlight hill.<br><br> + +In thoughtless gaiety I coursed the plain,<br> +And hope itself was all I knew of pain;<br> +For then, the inexperienced heart would beat<br> +At times, while young Content forsook her seat,<br> +And wild Impatience, pointing upward, showed, <br> +Through passes yet unreached, a brighter road.<br> +Alas! the idle tale of man is found<br> +Depicted in the dial's moral round;<br> +Hope with reflection blends her social rays<br> +To gild the total tablet of his days; <br> +Yet still, the sport of some malignant power,<br> +He knows but from its shade the present hour.<br> +<br> + But why, ungrateful, dwell on idle pain?<br> +To show what pleasures yet to me remain,<br> +Say, will my Friend, with unreluctant ear,<br> +The history of a poet's evening hear?<br><br> + + When, in the south, the wan noon, brooding still,<br> +Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill,<br> +And shades of deep-embattled clouds were seen,<br> +Spotting the northern cliffs with lights between; <br> +When crowding cattle, checked by rails that make<br> +A fence far stretched into the shallow lake,<br> +Lashed the cool water with their restless tails,<br> +Or from high points of rock looked out for fanning gales;<br> +When school-boys stretched their length upon the green;<br> +And round the broad-spread oak, a glimmering scene, <br> +In the rough fern-clad park, the herded deer<br> +Shook the still-twinkling tail and glancing ear;<br> +When horses in the sunburnt intake stood,<br> +And vainly eyed below the tempting flood, <br> +Or tracked the passenger, in mute distress,<br> +With forward neck the closing gate to press—<br> +Then, while I wandered where the huddling rill<br> +Brightens with water-breaks the hollow ghyll<br> +As by enchantment, an obscure retreat<br> +Opened at once, and stayed my devious feet.<br> +While thick above the rill the branches close,<br> +In rocky basin its wild waves repose,<br> +Inverted shrubs, and moss of gloomy green,<br> +Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between; <br> +And its own twilight softens the whole scene,<br> +Save where aloft the subtle sunbeams shine<br> +On withered briars that o'er the crags recline;<br> +Save where, with sparkling foam, a small cascade,<br> +Illumines, from within, the leafy shade;<br> +Beyond, along the vista of the brook,<br> +Where antique roots its bustling course o'erlook,<br> +The eye reposes on a secret bridge<br> +Half grey, half shagged with ivy to its ridge;<br> +There, bending o'er the stream, the listless swain <br> +Lingers behind his disappearing wain.<br> +—Did Sabine grace adorn my living line,<br> +Blandusia's praise, wild stream, should yield to thine!<br> +Never shall ruthless minister of death<br> +'Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath; <br> +No goblets shall, for thee, be crowned with flowers,<br> +No kid with piteous outcry thrill thy bowers;<br> +The mystic shapes that by thy margin rove<br> +A more benignant sacrifice approve—<br> +A mind, that, in a calm angelic mood<br> +Of happy wisdom, meditating good,<br> +Beholds, of all from her high powers required,<br> +Much done, and much designed, and more desired,—<br> +Harmonious thoughts, a soul by truth refined,<br> +Entire affection for all human kind. <br><br> + + Dear Brook, farewell! To-morrow's noon again<br> +Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain;<br> +But now the sun has gained his western road,<br> +And eve's mild hour invites my steps abroad.<br><br> + + While, near the midway cliff, the silvered kite <br> +In many a whistling circle wheels her flight;<br> +Slant watery lights, from parting clouds, apace<br> +Travel along the precipice's base;<br> +Cheering its naked waste of scattered stone,<br> +By lichens grey, and scanty moss, o'ergrown; <br> +Where scarce the foxglove peeps, or thistle's beard;<br> +And restless stone-chat, all day long, is heard.<br><br> + + How pleasant, as the sun declines, to view<br> +The spacious landscape change in form and hue!<br> +Here, vanish, as in mist, before a flood<br> +Of bright obscurity, hill, lawn, and wood;<br> +There, objects, by the searching beams betrayed,<br> +Come forth, and here retire in purple shade;<br> +Even the white stems of birch, the cottage white,<br> +Soften their glare before the mellow light;<br> +The skiffs, at anchor where with umbrage wide<br> +Yon chestnuts half the latticed boat-house hide,<br> +Shed from their sides, that face the sun's slant beam,<br> +Strong flakes of radiance on the tremulous stream:<br> +Raised by yon travelling flock, a dusty cloud<br> +Mounts from the road, and spreads its moving shroud;<br> +The shepherd, all involved in wreaths of fire,<br> +Now shows a shadowy speck, and now is lost entire.<br><br> + + Into a gradual calm the breezes sink,<br> +A blue rim borders all the lake's still brink;<br> +There doth the twinkling aspen's foliage sleep,<br> +And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deep:<br> +And now, on every side, the surface breaks<br> +Into blue spots, and slowly lengthening streaks;<br> +Here, plots of sparkling water tremble bright<br> +With thousand thousand twinkling points of light;<br> +There, waves that, hardly weltering, die away,<br> +Tip their smooth ridges with a softer ray;<br> +And now the whole wide lake in deep repose<br> +Is hushed, and like a burnished mirror glows,<br> +Save where, along the shady western marge,<br> +Coasts, with industrious oar, the charcoal barge.<br><br> + + Their panniered train a group of potters goad,<br> +Winding from side to side up the steep road;<br> +The peasant, from yon cliff of fearful edge<br> +Shot, down the headlong path darts with his sledge;<br> +Bright beams the lonely mountain-horse illume<br> +Feeding 'mid purple heath, "green rings," and broom;<br> +While the sharp slope the slackened team confounds,<br> +Downward the ponderous timber-wain resounds;<br> +In foamy breaks the rill, with merry song,<br> +Dashed o'er the rough rock, lightly leaps along;<br> +From lonesome chapel at the mountain's feet,<br> +Three humble bells their rustic chime repeat;<br> +Sounds from the water-side the hammered boat;<br> +And 'blasted' quarry thunders, heard remote!<br><br> + + Even here, amid the sweep of endless woods,<br> +Blue pomp of lakes, high cliffs and falling floods,<br> +Not undelightful are the simplest charms,<br> +Found by the grassy door of mountain-farms.<br><br> + + Sweetly ferocious, round his native walks,<br> +Pride of his sister-wives, the monarch stalks;<br> +Spur-clad his nervous feet, and firm his tread;<br> +A crest of purple tops the warrior's head.<br> +Bright sparks his black and rolling eye-ball hurls<br> +Afar, his tail he closes and unfurls;<br> +On tiptoe reared, he strains his clarion throat,<br> +Threatened by faintly-answering farms remote:<br> +Again with his shrill voice the mountain rings,<br> +While, flapped with conscious pride, resound his wings!<br><br> + + Where, mixed with graceful birch, the sombrous pine<br> +And yew-tree o'er the silver rocks recline;<br> +I love to mark the quarry's moving trains,<br> +Dwarf panniered steeds, and men, and numerous wains:<br> +How busy all the enormous hive within,<br> +While Echo dallies with its various din!<br> +Some (hear you not their chisels' clinking sound?)<br> +Toil, small as pigmies in the gulf profound;<br> +Some, dim between the lofty cliffs descried,<br> +O'erwalk the slender plank from side to side;<br> +These, by the pale-blue rocks that ceaseless ring,<br> +In airy baskets hanging, work and sing.<br><br> + + Just where a cloud above the mountain rears<br> +An edge all flame, the broadening sun appears;<br> +A long blue bar its ægis orb divides,<br> +And breaks the spreading of its golden tides;<br> +And now that orb has touched the purple steep<br> +Whose softened image penetrates the deep.<br><br> + +'Cross the calm lake's blue shades the cliffs aspire, <br> +With towers and woods, a "prospect all on fire"; <br> +While coves and secret hollows, through a ray <br> +Of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray. <br> +Each slip of lawn the broken rocks between <br> +Shines in the light with more than earthly green:<br> +Deep yellow beams the scattered stems illume, <br> +Far in the level forest's central gloom: <br> +Waving his hat, the shepherd, from the vale, <br> +Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,— <br> +The dog, loud barking, 'mid the glittering rocks, <br> +Hunts, where his master points, the intercepted flocks.<br> +Where oaks o'erhang the road the radiance shoots <br> +On tawny earth, wild weeds, and twisted roots; <br> +The druid-stones a brightened ring unfold;<br> +And all the babbling brooks are liquid gold;<br> +Sunk to a curve, the day-star lessens still,<br> +Gives one bright glance, and drops behind the hill.<br><br> + + In these secluded vales, if village fame,<br> +Confirmed by hoary hairs, belief may claim;<br> +When up the hills, as now, retired the light,<br> +Strange apparitions mocked the shepherd's sight.<br><br> + + The form appears of one that spurs his steed<br> +Midway along the hill with desperate speed;<br> +Unhurt pursues his lengthened flight, while all<br> +Attend, at every stretch, his headlong fall.<br> +Anon, appears a brave, a gorgeous show<br> +Of horsemen-shadows moving to and fro;<br> +At intervals imperial banners stream,<br> +And now the van reflects the solar beam;<br> +The rear through iron brown betrays a sullen gleam.<br> +While silent stands the admiring crowd below,<br> +Silent the visionary warriors go,<br> +Winding in ordered pomp their upward way<br> +Till the last banner of their long array<br> +Has disappeared, and every trace is fled<br> +Of splendour—save the beacon's spiry head<br> +Tipt with eve's latest gleam of burning red.<br><br> + + Now, while the solemn evening shadows sail,<br> +On slowly-waving pinions, down the vale;<br> +And, fronting the bright west, yon oak entwines<br> +Its darkening boughs and leaves, in stronger lines;<br> +'Tis pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray<br> +Where, winding on along some secret bay,<br> +The swan uplifts his chest, and backward flings<br> +His neck, a varying arch, between his towering wings:<br> +The eye that marks the gliding creature sees<br> +How graceful, pride can be, and how majestic, ease.<br><br> + +While tender cares and mild domestic loves<br> +With furtive watch pursue her as she moves,<br> +The female with a meeker charm succeeds,<br> +And her brown little-ones around her leads,<br> +Nibbling the water lilies as they pass,<br> +Or playing wanton with the floating grass.<br> +She, in a mother's care, her beauty's pride<br> +Forgetting, calls the wearied to her side;<br> +Alternately they mount her back, and rest <br> +Close by her mantling wings' embraces prest.<br><br> + + Long may they float upon this flood serene;<br> +Theirs be these holms untrodden, still, and green,<br> +Where leafy shades fence off the blustering gale,<br> +And breathes in peace the lily of the vale!<br> +Yon isle, which feels not even the milk-maid's feet,<br> +Yet hears her song, "by distance made more sweet,"<br> +Yon isle conceals their home, their hut-like bower;<br> +Green water-rushes overspread the floor;<br> +Long grass and willows form the woven wall,<br> +And swings above the roof the poplar tall.<br> +Thence issuing often with unwieldy stalk,<br> +They crush with broad black feet their flowery walk;<br> +Or, from the neighbouring water, hear at morn<br> +The hound, the horse's tread, and mellow horn;<br> +Involve their serpent-necks in changeful rings,<br> +Rolled wantonly between their slippery wings,<br> +Or, starting up with noise and rude delight,<br> +Force half upon the wave their cumbrous flight.<br><br> + + Fair Swan! by all a mother's joys caressed,<br> +Haply some wretch has eyed, and called thee blessed;<br> +When with her infants, from some shady seat<br> +By the lake's edge, she rose—to face the noontide heat;<br> +Or taught their limbs along the dusty road<br> +A few short steps to totter with their load.<br><br> + + I see her now, denied to lay her head,<br> +On cold blue nights, in hut or straw-built shed,<br> +Turn to a silent smile their sleepy cry,<br> +By pointing to the gliding moon on high.<br><br> + +—When low-hung clouds each star of summer hide,<br> +And fireless are the valleys far and wide,<br> +Where the brook brawls along the public road<br> +Dark with bat-haunted ashes stretching broad,<br> +Oft has she taught them on her lap to lay<br> +The shining glow-worm; or, in heedless play,<br> +Toss it from hand to hand, disquieted;<br> +While others, not unseen, are free to shed<br> +Green unmolested light upon their mossy bed.<br><br> + + Oh! when the sleety showers her path assail,<br> +And like a torrent roars the headstrong gale;<br> +No more her breath can thaw their fingers cold,<br> +Their frozen arms her neck no more can fold;<br> +Weak roof a cowering form two babes to shield,<br> +And faint the fire a dying heart can yield!<br> +Press the sad kiss, fond mother! vainly fears<br> +Thy flooded cheek to wet them with its tears;<br> +No tears can chill them, and no bosom warms,<br> +Thy breast their death-bed, coffined in thine arms!<br><br> + + Sweet are the sounds that mingle from afar,<br> +Heard by calm lakes, as peeps the folding star,<br> +Where the duck dabbles 'mid the rustling sedge,<br> +And feeding pike starts from the water's edge,<br> +Or the swan stirs the reeds, his neck and bill<br> +Wetting, that drip upon the water still;<br> +And heron, as resounds the trodden shore,<br> +Shoots upward, darting his long neck before.<br> +<br> + Now, with religious awe, the farewell light<br> +Blends with the solemn colouring of night;<br> +'Mid groves of clouds that crest the mountain's brow,<br> +And round the west's proud lodge their shadows throw,<br> +Like Una shining on her gloomy way,<br> +The half-seen form of Twilight roams astray;<br> +Shedding, through paly loop-holes mild and small,<br> +Gleams that upon the lake's still bosom fall;<br> +Soft o'er the surface creep those lustres pale<br> +Tracking the motions of the fitful gale.<br> +With restless interchange at once the bright<br> +Wins on the shade, the shade upon the light.<br> +No favoured eye was e'er allowed to gaze<br> +On lovelier spectacle in faery days;<br> +When gentle Spirits urged a sportive chase,<br> +Brushing with lucid wands the water's face;<br> +While music, stealing round the glimmering deeps,<br> +Charmed the tall circle of the enchanted steeps.<br> +—The lights are vanished from the watery plains:<br> +No wreck of all the pageantry remains.<br> +Unheeded night has overcome the vales:<br> +On the dark earth the wearied vision fails;<br> +The latest lingerer of the forest train,<br> +The lone black fir, forsakes the faded plain;<br> +Last evening sight, the cottage smoke, no more,<br> +Lost in the thickened darkness, glimmers hoar;<br> +And, towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,<br> +Like a black wall, the mountain-steeps appear.<br> +—Now o'er the soothed accordant heart we feel<br> +A sympathetic twilight slowly steal,<br> +And ever, as we fondly muse, we find<br> +The soft gloom deepening on the tranquil mind.<br> +Stay! pensive, sadly-pleasing visions, stay!<br> +Ah no! as fades the vale, they fade away:<br> +Yet still the tender, vacant gloom remains;<br> +Still the cold cheek its shuddering tear retains.<br><br> + + The bird, who ceased, with fading light, to thread<br> +Silent the hedge or steamy rivulet's bed,<br> +From his grey re-appearing tower shall soon<br> +Salute with gladsome note the rising moon,<br> +While with a hoary light she frosts the ground,<br> +And pours a deeper blue to Æther's bound;<br> +Pleased, as she moves, her pomp of clouds to fold<br> +In robes of azure, fleecy-white, and gold.<br><br> + + Above yon eastern hill, where darkness broods<br> +O'er all its vanished dells, and lawns, and woods;<br> +Where but a mass of shade the sight can trace,<br> +Even now she shows, half-veiled, her lovely face:<br> +Across the gloomy valley flings her light,<br> +Far to the western slopes with hamlets white;<br> +And gives, where woods the chequered upland strew,<br> +To the green corn of summer, autumn's hue.<br><br> + +Thus Hope, first pouring from her blessed horn<br> +Her dawn, far lovelier than the moon's own morn,<br> +'Till higher mounted, strives in vain to cheer<br> +The weary hills, impervious, blackening near;<br> +Yet does she still, undaunted, throw the while<br> +On darling spots remote her tempting smile.<br><br> + +Even now she decks for me a distant scene,<br> +(For dark and broad the gulf of time between)<br> +Gilding that cottage with her fondest ray,<br> +(Sole bourn, sole wish, sole object of my way;<br> +How fair its lawns and sheltering woods appear!<br> +How sweet its streamlet murmurs in mine ear!)<br> +Where we, my Friend, to happy days shall rise,<br> +'Till our small share of hardly-paining sighs<br> +(For sighs will ever trouble human breath)<br> +Creep hushed into the tranquil breast of death.<br><br> + +But now the clear bright Moon her zenith gains,<br> +And, rimy without speck, extend the plains:<br> +The deepest cleft the mountain's front displays<br> +Scarce hides a shadow from her searching rays;<br> +From the dark-blue faint silvery threads divide<br> +The hills, while gleams below the azure tide;<br> +Time softly treads; throughout the landscape breathes<br> +A peace enlivened, not disturbed, by wreaths<br> +Of charcoal-smoke, that o'er the fallen wood,<br> +Steal down the hill, and spread along the flood.<br><br> + + The song of mountain-streams, unheard by day,<br> +Now hardly heard, beguiles my homeward way.<br> +Air listens, like the sleeping water, still,<br> +To catch the spiritual music of the hill,<br> +Broke only by the slow clock tolling deep,<br> +Or shout that wakes the ferry-man from sleep,<br> +The echoed hoof nearing the distant shore,<br> +The boat's first motion—made with dashing oar;<br> +Sound of closed gate, across the water borne,<br> +Hurrying the timid hare through rustling corn;<br> +The sportive outcry of the mocking owl;<br> +And at long intervals the mill-dog's howl;<br> +The distant forge's swinging thump profound;<br> +Or yell, in the deep woods, of lonely hound.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v1"></a><a href="#1v1">1</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v2"></a><a href="#1v2">2</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v3"></a><a href="#1v3">3</a><br> +<a name="fr1v4"></a><a href="#1v4">4</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v5"></a><a href="#1v5">5</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v6"></a><a href="#1v6">6</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v7"></a><a href="#1v7">7</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v8"></a><a href="#1v8">8</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v9"></a><a href="#1v9">9</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v10"></a><a href="#1v10">10</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v11"></a><a href="#1v11">11</a><br> +<a name="fr1v12"></a><a href="#1v12">12</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v13"></a><a href="#1v13">13</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v14"></a><a href="#1v14">14</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v15"></a><a href="#1v15">15</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v16"></a><a href="#1v16">16</a><br> +<a name="fr1v17"></a><a href="#1v17">17</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v18"></a><a href="#1v18">18</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v19"></a><a href="#1v19">19</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v20"></a><a href="#1v20">20</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v21"></a><a href="#1v21">21</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v22"></a><a href="#1v22">22</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v23"></a><a href="#1v23">23</a><br> +<a name="fr1v24"></a><a href="#1v24">24</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v25"></a><a href="#1v25">25</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v26"></a><a href="#1v26">26</a> / <a name="fr1v27"></a><a href="#1v27">27</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v28"></a><a href="#1v28">28</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v29"></a><a href="#1v29">29</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v30"></a><a href="#1v30">30</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v31"></a><a href="#1v31">31</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v32"></a><a href="#1v32">32</a><br> +<a name="fr1v33"></a><a href="#1v33">33</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v34"></a><a href="#1v34">34</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v35"></a><a href="#1v35">35</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v36"></a><a href="#1v36">36</a><br> +<a name="fr1v37"></a><a href="#1v37">37</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v38"></a><a href="#1v38">38</a> / <a name="fr1v39"></a><a href="#1v39">39</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v40"></a><a href="#1v40">40</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v41"></a><a href="#1v41">41</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v42"></a><a href="#1v42">42</a><br> +<a name="fr1v43"></a><a href="#1v43">43</a><br> +<a name="fr1v44"></a><a href="#1v44">44</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v45"></a><a href="#1v45">45</a><br> +<a name="fr1v46"></a><a href="#1v46">46</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v47"></a><a href="#1v47">47</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v48"></a><a href="#1v48">48</a><br> +<a name="fr1v49"></a><a href="#1v49">49</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v50"></a><a href="#1v50">50</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v51"></a><a href="#1v51">51</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v52"></a><a href="#1v52">52</a><br> +<a name="fr1v53"></a><a href="#1v53">53</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v54"></a><a href="#1v54">54</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v55"></a><a href="#1v55">55</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v56"></a><a href="#1v56">56</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v57"></a><a href="#1v57">57</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v58"></a><a href="#1v58">58</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v59"></a><a href="#1v59">59</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v60"></a><a href="#1v60">60</a><br> +<a name="fr1v61"></a><a href="#1v61">61</a><br> +<a name="fr1v62"></a><a href="#1v62">62</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v63"></a><a href="#1v63">63</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v64"></a><a href="#1v64">64</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v65"></a><a href="#1v65">65</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v66"></a><a href="#1v66">66</a><br> +<a name="fr1v67"></a><a href="#1v67">67</a><br> +<a name="fr1v68"></a><a href="#1v68">68</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v69"></a><a href="#1v69">69</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v70"></a><a href="#1v70">70</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v71"></a><a href="#1v71">71</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v72"></a><a href="#1v72">72</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v73"></a><a href="#1v73">73</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v74"></a><a href="#1v74">74</a><br> +<a name="fr1v75"></a><a href="#1v75">75</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v76"></a><a href="#1v76">76</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v77"></a><a href="#1v77">77</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v78"></a><a href="#1v78">78</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v79"></a><a href="#1v79">79</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v80"></a><a href="#1v80">80</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v81"></a><a href="#1v81">81</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v82"></a><a href="#1v82">82</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v83"></a><a href="#1v83">83</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v84"></a><a href="#1v84">84</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v85"></a><a href="#1v85">85</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v86"></a><a href="#1v86">86</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v87"></a><a href="#1v87">87</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v88"></a><a href="#1v88">88</a><br> +<a name="fr1v89"></a><a href="#1v89">89</a><br> +<a name="fr1v90"></a><a href="#1v90">90</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v91"></a><a href="#1v91">91</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v92"></a><a href="#1v92">92</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v93"></a><a href="#1v93">93</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v94"></a><a href="#1v94">94</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v95"></a><a href="#1v95">95</a><br> +<a name="fr1v96"></a><a href="#1v96">96</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v97"></a><a href="#1v97">97</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v98"></a><a href="#1v98">98</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v99"></a><a href="#1v99">99</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v100"></a><a href="#1v100">100</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v101"></a><a href="#1v101">101</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v102"></a><a href="#1v102">102</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr1v103"></a><a href="#1v103">103</a><br> +<a name="fr1v104"></a><a href="#1v104">104</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2c"></a><a href="#2c">C</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2d"></a><a href="#2d">D</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2e"></a><a href="#2e">E</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2f"></a><a href="#2f">F</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2g"></a><a href="#2g">G</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr2h"></a><a href="#2h">H</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2j"></a><a href="#2j">J</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2k"></a><a href="#2k">K</a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr2l"></a><a href="#2l">L</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2m"></a><a href="#2m">M</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2n"></a><a href="#2n">N</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2p"></a><a href="#2p">P</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2q"></a><a href="#2q">Q</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2r"></a><a href="#2r">R</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2s"></a><a href="#2s">S</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2t"></a><a href="#2t">T</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr2u"></a><a href="#2u">U</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +145<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +150<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +155<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +165<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +175<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +180<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +185<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +190<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +195<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +200<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +205<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +210<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +215<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +220<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +225<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +230<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +235<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +240<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +245<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +250<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +255<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +260<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +265<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +270<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +275<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +280<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +285<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +290<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +295<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +300<br><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +305<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +310<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +315<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +320<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +325<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +330<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +335<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +340<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +345<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +350<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +355<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +360<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +365<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +370<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +375<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +380<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="1v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>His wizard course where hoary Derwent takes<br> + Thro' craggs, and forest glooms, and opening lakes,<br> + Staying his silent waves, to hear the roar<br> + That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore:<br> + Where silver rocks the savage prospect chear<br> + Of giant yews that frown on Rydale's mere;<br><br> + +Where Derwent stops his course to hear the roar<br> + That stuns the tremulous cliffs ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br><br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +(Omitting two lines of the 1793 text quoted above.)<br> +<a href="#fr1v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Where, bosom'd deep, the shy Winander peeps <br> + <br> + Where, deep embosom'd, shy Winander peeps</blockquote></td> + <td> 1793.<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Fair scenes! with other eyes, than once, I gaze,<br> + The ever-varying charm your round displays,<br> + Than when, ere-while, I taught, "a happy child,"<br> + The echoes of your rocks my carols wild:<br> + Then did no ebb of chearfulness demand<br> + Sad tides of joy from Melancholy's hand; <br><br> + + Upon the varying charm your round displays, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + + 1793<br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... wild ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... stars of night,<br> + Alike, when first the vales the bittern fills,<br> + Or the first woodcocks roam'd the moonlight hills.<br> + <br> + Alike, when heard the bittern's hollow bill,<br> + Or the first woodcocks roam'd the moonlight hill. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Return Delights! with whom my road begun,<br> + When Life rear'd laughing up her morning sun;<br> + When Transport kiss'd away my April tear,<br> + "Rocking as in a dream the tedious year";<br> + When link'd with thoughtless Mirth I cours'd the plain, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>For then, ev'n then, the little heart would beat </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And wild Impatience, panting upward, show'd<br> + Where tipp'd with gold the mountain-summits glow'd. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>With Hope Reflexion blends her social rays </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>While, Memory at my side, I wander here,<br> + Starts at the simplest sight th' unbidden tear,<br> + A form discover'd at the well-known seat,<br> + A spot, that angles at the riv'let's feet,<br> + The ray the cot of morning trav'ling nigh,<br> + And sail that glides the well-known alders by. </blockquote></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +</table> +Only in the edition of 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr1v10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v11"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 11:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>To shew her yet some joys to me remain, </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v12"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 12:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... with soft affection's ear,</blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v12">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v13"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 13:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... with lights between;<br> + Gazing the tempting shades to them deny'd,<br> + When stood the shorten'd herds amid' the tide,<br> + Where, from the barren wall's unshelter'd end,<br> + Long rails into the shallow lake extend;<br> + <br> + When, at the barren wall's unsheltered end,<br> + Where long rails far into the lake extend,<br> + Crowded the shortened herds, and beat the tides<br> + With their quick tails, and lash'd their speckled sides; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v13">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v14"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 14:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And round the humming elm, a glimmering scene!<br> + In the brown park, in flocks, the troubl'd deer<br><br> + + ... in herds, ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793<br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v14">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v15"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 15:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>When horses in the wall-girt intake stood,<br> + Unshaded, eying far below, the flood,<br> + Crouded behind the swain, in mute distress,<br> + With forward neck the closing gate to press;<br> + And long, with wistful gaze, his walk survey'd,<br> + 'Till dipp'd his pathway in the river shade; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v15">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v16"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 16:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>—Then Quiet led me up the huddling rill,<br> + Bright'ning with water-breaks the sombrous gill;<br><br> + + —Then, while I wandered up the huddling rill<br> + Brightening with water-breaks the sombrous ghyll,<br> + <br> + Then, while I wandered where the huddling rill<br> + Brightens with water-breaks the sombrous ghyll, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v16">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v17"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 17:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>To where, while thick above the branches close,<br> + In dark-brown bason its wild waves repose,<br> + Inverted shrubs, and moss of darkest green,<br> + Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between;<br> + Save that, atop, the subtle sunbeams shine,<br> + On wither'd briars that o'er the craggs recline;<br> + Sole light admitted here, a small cascade,<br> + Illumes with sparkling foam the twilight shade.<br> + Beyond, along the visto of the brook,<br> + Where antique roots its bustling path o'erlook,<br> + The eye reposes on a secret bridge<br> + Half grey, half shagg'd with ivy to its ridge.<br> + —Sweet rill, farewel! ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v17">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v18"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 18:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>But see aloft the subtle sunbeams shine,<br> + On withered briars that o'er the crags recline;<br> + Thus beautiful! as if the sight displayed,<br> + By its own sparkling foam that small cascade;<br> + Inverted shrubs, with moss of gloomy green<br> + Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between. <br> + <br> + Inverted shrubs with pale wood weeds between<br> + Cling from the moss-grown rocks, a darksome green,<br> + Save where aloft the subtle sunbeams shine<br> + And its own twilight softens the whole scene.<br> + And sparkling as it foams a small cascade<br> + Illumines from within the impervious shade<br> + Below, right in the vista of the brook,<br> + Where antique roots, etc. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + C.<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + MS.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v18">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v19"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 19:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Sole light admitted here, a small cascade,<br> + Illumes with sparkling foam the impervious shade;</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v19">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v20"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 20:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... path ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v20">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v21"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 21:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Whence hangs, in the cool shade, the listless swain<br> + Lingering behind his disappearing wain. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v21">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v22"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 22:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>—Sweet rill, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v22">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v23"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 23:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... and ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v23">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v24"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 24:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And desert ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v24">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v25"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 25:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>How pleasant, as the yellowing sun declines,<br> + And with long rays and shades the landscape shines;<br> + To mark the birches' stems all golden light,<br> + That lit the dark slant woods with silvery white!<br> + The willow's weeping trees, that twinkling hoar,<br> + Glanc'd oft upturn'd along the breezy shore,<br> + Low bending o'er the colour'd water, fold<br> + Their moveless boughs and leaves like threads of gold;<br> + The skiffs with naked masts at anchor laid,<br> + Before the boat-house peeping thro' the shade;<br> + Th' unwearied glance of woodman's echo'd stroke;<br> + And curling from the trees the cottage smoke.<br> + Their pannier'd train ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v25">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v26"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 26:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... zephyrs ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v26">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v27"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 27:</span></a> This stanza was added in the edition of 1820.<br> +<a href="#fr1v27">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v28"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 28:</span></a> +1845. This couplet was added in 1845.<br> +<a href="#fr1v28">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v29"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 29:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And now the universal tides repose,<br> + And, brightly blue, the burnished mirror glows, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v29">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v30"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 30:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The sails are dropped, the poplar's foliage sleeps,<br> + And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deeps. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + This couplet followed l. 127 + from 1820 to 1843.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v30">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v31"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 31:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Shot, down the headlong pathway darts his sledge; </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v31">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v32"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 32:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Beside their sheltering<a href="#i"><sup>i</sup></a> cross of wall, the flock<br> + Feeds on in light, nor thinks of winter's shock; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + Only in the edition of 1793.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v32">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v33"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 33:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Dashed down ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v33">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v34"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 34:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... verdant ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v34">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v35"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 35:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Gazed by ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v35">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v36"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 36:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... his warrior head. </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v36">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v37"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 37:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... haggard ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v37">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v38"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 38:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Whose state, like pine-trees, waving to and fro,<br> + Droops, and o'er canopies his regal brow, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + This couplet was inserted in + the editions 1793 to 1832.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v38">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v39"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 39:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... blows ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v39">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v40"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 40:</span></a> This couplet was first printed in the edition of 1820.<br> +<a href="#fr1v40">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v41"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 41:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Bright'ning the cliffs between where sombrous pine,<br> + And yew-trees ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v41">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v42"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 42:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>How busy the enormous hive within, </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v42">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v43"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 43:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... with the ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v43">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v44"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 44:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Some hardly heard their chissel's clinking sound, </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v44">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v45"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 45:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... th' aëreal ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v45">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v46"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 46:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... viewless ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v46">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v47"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 47:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Glad from their airy baskets hang and sing. </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v47">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v48"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 48:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Hung o'er a cloud, above the steep that rears </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v48">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v49"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 49:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>It's ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v49">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v50"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 50:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And now it touches on the purple steep<br> + That flings his shadow on the pictur'd deep.<br> + <br> + That flings its image ... <br><br> + + And now the sun has touched the purple steep <br> + Whose softened image penetrates the deep.</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793<br> + <br> + 1832<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v50">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v51"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 51:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The coves ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v51">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v52"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 52:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The gilded turn arrays in richer green <br> + Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between;<br><br> + + ... invests with richer green</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793<br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v52">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v53"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 53:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... boles ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v53">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v54"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 54:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... in ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v54">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v55"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 55:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> That, barking busy 'mid the glittering rocks, <br> + Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v55">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v56"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 56:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The Druid stones<a href="#ii"><sup>ii</sup></a> their lighted fane unfold,<br> + <br> + ... a burnished ring unfold;</blockquote></td> + <td>1793<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v56">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v57"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 57:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... sinks ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v57">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v58"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 58:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>In these lone vales, if aught of faith may claim,<br> + Thin silver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame;<br> + When up the hills, as now, retreats the light,<br> + Strange apparitions mock the village sight.<br><br> + + In these secluded vales, if village fame,<br> + Confirmed by silver hairs, belief may claim;<br> + When up the hills, as now, retired the light,<br> + Strange apparitions mocked the gazer's sight.<br><br> + + ... shepherd's sight.</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v58">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v59"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 59:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>A desperate form appears, that spurs his steed,<br> + Along the midway cliffs with violent speed; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v59">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v60"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 60:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Anon, in order mounts a gorgeous show<br> + Of horsemen shadows winding to and fro;</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v60">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v61"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 61:</span></a> This line was added in 1820.<br> +<a href="#fr1v61">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v62"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 62:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... is gilt with evening's beam,</blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v62">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v63"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 63:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1849</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... of the ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v63">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v64"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 64:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Lost gradual o'er the heights in pomp they go,<br> + While silent stands th' admiring vale below;<br> + Till, but the lonely beacon all is fled,<br> + That tips with eve's last gleam his spiry head. .<br> + <br> + Till, save the lonely beacon, ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +In the edition of 1836 the seven lines of the printed +text—205-211—replaced these four lines of the editions 1793-1832.<br> +<a href="#fr1v64">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v65"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 65:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>On red slow-waving pinions ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v65">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v66"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 66:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And, fronting the bright west in stronger lines,<br> + The oak its dark'ning boughs and foliage twines, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +The edition of 1815 omitted this couplet. It was restored in its final +form in the edition of 1820.<br> +<a href="#fr1v66">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v67"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 67:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>I love beside the glowing lake to stray,<br> + <br> + How pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray, </blockquote></td> + <td>1793<br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v67">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v68"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 68:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... to stray,<br> + Where winds the road along the secret bay;<br> + By rills that tumble down the woody steeps,<br> + And run in transport to the dimpling deeps;<br> + Along the "wild meand'ring shore" to view,<br> + Obsequious Grace the winding swan pursue.<br> + <br> + ... a secret bay;<br> + <br> + ... meandering shore" ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br> + 1813<br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v68">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v69"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 69:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>He swells his lifted chest, and backward flings<br> + His bridling neck between his tow'ring wings;<br> + Stately, and burning in his pride, divides<br> + And glorying looks around, the silent tides:<br> + On as he floats, the silver'd waters glow,<br> + Proud of the varying arch and moveless form of snow.<br> +<br> + ... his towering wings;<br> + In all the majesty of ease divides, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v69">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v70"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 70:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... her beauty's pride<br> + Forgets, unweary'd watching every side,<br> + She calls them near, and with affection sweet<br> + Alternately relieves their weary feet; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v70">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v71"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 71:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Long may ye roam these hermit waves that sleep,<br> + In birch-besprinkl'd cliffs embosom'd deep;<br> + These fairy holms untrodden, still, and green,<br> + Whose shades protect the hidden wave serene;<br> + Whence fragrance scents the water's desart gale,<br> + The violet, and the<a href="#iii"><sup>iii</sup></a> lily of the vale; .<br> + <br> + Long may ye float upon these floods serene;<br> + Yours be these holms untrodden, still, and green,<br> + Whose leafy shades fence off the blustering gale,<br> + Where breathes in peace the lily of the vale. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v71">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v72"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 72:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Where, tho' her far-off twilight ditty steal,<br> + They not the trip of harmless milkmaid feel. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v72">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v73"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 73:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Yon tuft conceals your home, your cottage bow'r.<br> + Fresh water rushes strew the verdant floor;<br><br> + + Yon isle conceals ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793<br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v73">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v74"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 74:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Thence issuing oft, unwieldly as ye stalk,<br> + Ye crush with broad black feet your flow'ry walk;<br> + <br> + Thence issuing often with unwieldly stalk,<br> + With broad black feet ye crush your flow'ry walk;</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v74">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v75"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 75:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Safe from your door ye hear at breezy morn, </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v75">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v76"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 76:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... and mellow horn;<br> + At peace inverted your lithe necks ye lave,<br> + With the green bottom strewing o'er the wave;<br> + No ruder sound your desart haunts invades,<br> + Than waters dashing wild, or rocking shades.<br> + Ye ne'er, like hapless human wanderers, throw<br> + Your young on winter's winding sheet of snow.<br><br> + + ... and mellow horn;<br> + Involve your serpent necks in changeful rings,<br> + Rolled wantonly between your slippery wings,<br> + Or, starting up with noise and rude delight,<br> + Force half upon the wave your cumbrous flight. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v76">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v77"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 77:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Fair Swan! by all a mother's joys caress'd,<br> + Haply some wretch has ey'd, and call'd thee bless'd;<br> + Who faint, and beat by summer's breathless ray,<br> + Hath dragg'd her babes along this weary way;<br> + While arrowy fire extorting feverish groans<br> + Shot stinging through her stark o'er labour'd bones.<br> + —With backward gaze, lock'd joints, and step of pain,<br> + Her seat scarce left, she strives, alas! in vain,<br> + To teach their limbs along the burning road<br> + A few short steps to totter with their load,<br> + Shakes her numb arm that slumbers with its weight,<br> + And eyes through tears the mountain's shadeless height;<br> + And bids her soldier come her woes to share,<br> + Asleep on Bunker's<a href="#iv"><sup>iv</sup></a> charnel hill afar;<br> + For hope's deserted well why wistful look?<br> + Chok'd is the pathway, and the pitcher broke. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +In 1793 this passage occupied the place of the six lines of the final +text (250-255).<br> +<br> + + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... and called thee bless'd;<br> + The whilst upon some sultry summer's day<br> + She dragged her babes along this weary way;<br> + Or taught their limbs along the burning road<br> + A few short steps to totter with their load.<br><br> + + The while ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1832</td> +</tr> +</table> + <a href="#fr1v77">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v78"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 78:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... a shooting star ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v78">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v79"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 79:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> I hear, while in the forest depth he sees,<br> + The Moon's fix'd gaze between the opening trees,<br> + In broken sounds her elder grief demand,<br> + And skyward lift, like one that prays, his hand,<br> + If, in that country, where he dwells afar,<br> + His father views that good, that kindly star;<br> + —Ah me! all light is mute amid the gloom,<br> + The interlunar cavern of the tomb. <br> + <br> + In broken sounds her elder child demand,<br> + While toward the sky he lifts his pale bright hand, <br> + <br> + —Alas! all light ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793-1832<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> + +Those eight lines were withdrawn in 1845.<br> +<a href="#fr1v79">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v80"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 80:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... painful ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v80">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v81"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 81:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The distant clock forgot, and chilling dew,<br> + Pleas'd thro' the dusk their breaking smiles to view, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + Only in the edition of 1793.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v81">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v82"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 82:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... on her lap to play<br> + Delighted, with the glow-worm's harmless ray<br> + Toss'd light from hand to hand; while on the ground<br> + Small circles of green radiance gleam around.</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v82">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v83"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 83:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Oh! when the bitter showers her path assail,<br> + And roars between the hills the torrent gale,<br><br> + + ... sleety showers ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> +1793<br> +<br> +1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v83">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v84"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 84:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Scarce heard, their chattering lips her shoulder chill,<br> + And her cold back their colder bosoms thrill;<br> + All blind she wilders o'er the lightless heath,<br> + Led by Fear's cold wet hand, and dogg'd by Death;<br> + Death, as she turns her neck the kiss to seek,<br> + Breaks off the dreadful kiss with angry shriek.<br> + Snatch'd from her shoulder with despairing moan,<br> + She clasps them at that dim-seen roofless stone.—<br> + "Now ruthless Tempest launch thy deadliest dart!<br> + Fall fires—but let us perish heart to heart." </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +The first, third, and fourth of these couplets were omitted +from the edition of 1820. The whole passage was withdrawn in +1827.<br> +<a href="#fr1v84">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v85"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 85:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Soon shall the Light'ning hold before thy head<br> + His torch, and shew them slumbering in their bed, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + Only in the edition of 1793.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v85">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> + +<a name="1v86"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 86:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>While, by the scene compos'd, the breast subsides,<br> + Nought wakens or disturbs it's tranquil tides;<br> + Nought but the char that for the may-fly leaps,<br> + And breaks the mirror of the circling deeps;<br> + Or clock, that blind against the wanderer born<br> + Drops at his feet, and stills his droning horn.<br> + —The whistling swain that plods his ringing way<br> + Where the slow waggon winds along the bay;<br> + The sugh<a href="#v"><sup>v</sup></a> of swallow flocks that twittering sweep,<br> + The solemn curfew swinging long and deep;<br> + The talking boat that moves with pensive sound,<br> + Or drops his anchor down with plunge profound;<br> + Of boys that bathe remote the faint uproar,<br> + And restless piper wearying out the shore;<br> + These all to swell the village murmurs blend,<br> + That soften'd from the water-head descend.<br> + While in sweet cadence rising small and still<br> + The far-off minstrels of the haunted hill,<br> + As the last bleating of the fold expires,<br> + Tune in the mountain dells their water lyres. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + Only in the edition of 1793.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v86">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v87"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 87:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... of the night;</blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v87">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v88"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 88:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Thence, from three paly loopholes mild and small,<br> + Slow lights upon the lake's still bosom fall, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v88">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v89"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 89:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Beyond the mountain's giant reach that hides<br> + In deep determin'd gloom his subject tides.<br> + —Mid the dark steeps repose the shadowy streams,<br> + As touch'd with dawning moonlight's hoary gleams,<br> + Long streaks of fairy light the wave illume<br> + With bordering lines of intervening gloom, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +The second and third of these couplets were cancelled in the edition of +1815, and the whole passage was withdrawn in 1827.<br> +<a href="#fr1v89">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v90"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 90:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Soft o'er the surface creep the lustres pale<br> + Tracking with silvering path the changeful gale.<br> + <br> + ... those lustres pale<br> + Tracking the fitful motions of the gale.</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v90">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v91"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 91:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>—'Tis restless magic all; at once the bright<a href="#vi"><sup>vi</sup></a><br> + Breaks on the shade, the shade upon the light,<br> + Fair Spirits are abroad; in sportive chase<br> + Brushing with lucid wands the water's face,<br> + While music stealing round the glimmering deeps<br> + Charms the tall circle of th' enchanted steeps.<br> + —As thro' th' astonished woods the notes ascend,<br> + The mountain streams their rising song suspend;<br> + Below Eve's listening Star, the sheep walk stills<br> + It's drowsy tinklings on th' attentive hills;<br> + The milkmaid stops her ballad, and her pail<br> + Stays it's low murmur in th' unbreathing vale;<br> + No night-duck clamours for his wilder'd mate,<br> + Aw'd, while below the Genii hold their state.<br> + —The pomp is fled, and mute the wondrous strains,<br> + No wrack of all the pageant scene remains,<br> + <a href="#vii"><sup>vii</sup></a>So vanish <a name="1v91a">those</a> fair Shadows, human Joys,<br> + But Death alone their vain regret destroys.<br> + Unheeded Night has overcome the vales,<br> + On the dark earth the baffl'd vision fails,<br> + If peep between the clouds a star on high,<br> + There turns for glad repose the weary eye;<br> + The latest lingerer of the forest train,<br> + The lone-black fir, forsakes the faded plain;<br> + Last evening sight, the cottage smoke no more,<br> + Lost in the deepen'd darkness, glimmers hoar;<br> + High towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,<br> + Like a black wall, the mountain steeps appear,<br> + Thence red from different heights with restless gleam<br> + Small cottage lights across the water stream,<br> + Nought else of man or life remains behind<br> + To call from other worlds the wilder'd mind,<br> + Till pours the wakeful bird her solemn strains<br> + <a href="#viii"><sup>viii</sup></a>Heard by <a name="1v91b">the</a> night-calm of the watry plains.<br> + —No purple prospects now the mind employ<br> + Glowing in golden sunset tints of joy,<br> + But o'er the sooth'd ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + Only in the edition of 1793.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v91">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v92"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 92:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The bird, with fading light who ceas'd to thread<br> + Silent the hedge or steaming rivulet's bed, <br><br> + + The bird, who ceased, with fading light, to thread </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793<br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v92">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v93"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 93:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Salute with boding note the rising moon,<br> + Frosting with hoary light the pearly ground,<br> + And pouring deeper blue to Aether's bound;<br> + Rejoic'd her solemn pomp of clouds to fold<br> + In robes of azure, fleecy white, and gold,<br> + While rose and poppy, as the glow-worm fades,<br> + Checquer with paler red the thicket shades. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +The last two lines occur only in the edition of 1793.<br> +<br> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And pleased her solemn pomp of clouds to fold</blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v93">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v94"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 94:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Now o'er the eastern hill, ... <br><br> + + See, o'er ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793<br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v94">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v95"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 95:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>She lifts in silence up her lovely face;</blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v95">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v96"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 96:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Above ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v96">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v97"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 97:</span></a> + <table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... silvery ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v97">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v98"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 98:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... golden ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v98">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v99"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 99:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The deepest dell the mountain's breast displays,<br> + <br> + ... the mountain's front ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793<br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v99">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v100"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 100:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The scene is waken'd, yet its peace unbroke,<br> + By silver'd wreaths of quiet charcoal smoke,<br> + That, o'er the ruins of the fallen wood,<br> + Steal down the hills, and spread along the flood.</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v100">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v101"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 101:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>All air is, as the sleeping water, still,<br> + List'ning th' aëreal music of the hill,<br> + <br> + Air listens, as the sleeping water still,<br> + To catch the spiritual music of the hill, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + 1832</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v101">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v102"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 102:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Soon follow'd by his hollow-parting oar,<br> + And echo'd hoof approaching the far shore; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v102">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v103"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 103:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... the feeding ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v103">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="1v104"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 104:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The tremulous sob of the complaining owl;</blockquote></td> + <td>1793</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr1v104">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="i"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote i:</span> </a> These rude structures, to protect the flocks, are +frequent in this country: the traveller may recollect one in Withburne, +another upon Whinlatter.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#1v32">return to variant</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="ii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote ii:</span> </a> Not far from Broughton is a Druid monument, of which I +do not recollect that any tour descriptive of this country makes +mention. Perhaps this poem may fall into the hands of some curious +traveller, who may thank me for informing him, that up the Duddon, the +river which forms the aestuary at Broughton, may be found some of the +most romantic scenery of these mountains.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +This circle is at the top of Swinside, a glen about four miles from +Broughton. It consists of 50 stones, 90 yards in circumference; and is +on the fell, which is part of the range terminating in Black +Combe.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#1v56">return to variant</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="iii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote iii:</span> </a> The lily of the valley is found in great abundance in +the smaller islands of Winandermere.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#1v71">return to variant</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="iv"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote iv:</span> </a> In the 1793 edition this line reads "Asleep on +Minden's charnel plain afar." The 'errata', list inserted in some copies +of that edition gives "Bunker's charnel hill."—Ed.<br> +<a href="#1v77">return to variant</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="v"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote v:</span> </a> Sugh, a Scotch word, expressive, as Mr. Gilpin explains +it, of the sound of the motion of a stick through the air, or of the +wind passing through the trees. See Burns' <i>Cottar's Saturday +Night</i>.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +The line is in stanza ii., l. 1: + + <blockquote>November chill blaws loud, wi' angry sugh</blockquote>. + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#1v86">return to variant</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="vi"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote vi:</span> </a> This long passage occupies, in the edition of 1793, +the place of lines 297-314 in the final text given above.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#1v91">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="vii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote vii:</span> </a> + + <blockquote>"So break those glittering shadows, human joys"</blockquote> + +(<b>Young</b>).—W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +The line occurs 'Night V, The Complaint', l. 1042, or l. 27 from the +end.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#1v91a">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="viii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote viii:</span> </a> + + <blockquote>"Charming the night-calm with her powerful song." </blockquote> + +A line of one of our older poets.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +This line I have been unable to discover, but see Webster and Dekker in +'Westward Hoe', iv. c. + + <blockquote>"Charms with her excellent voice an awful silence through all this + building."</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#1v91b">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2a"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836 +(p. 1).—Ed.<br> +<a href="#section3">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2b"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> It may not be irrelevant to mention that our late poet, +Robert Browning, besought me—both in conversation, and by letter—to +restore this "discarded" picture, in editing 'Dion'.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2b">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2c"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> These lines are only applicable to the middle part of that +lake.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr2c">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2d"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> In the beginning of winter, these mountains, in the +moonlight nights, are covered with immense quantities of woodcocks; +which, in the dark nights, retire into the woods.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr2d">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2e"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote E:</span></a> The word 'intake' is local, and signifies a +mountain-inclosure.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr2e">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2f"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote F:</span></a> Gill is also, I believe, a term confined to this country. +Glen, gill, and dingle, have the same meaning.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +The spelling "Ghyll" is first used in the edition of 1820 in the text. +In the note to that edition it remains "gill". In 1827 the spelling in +the note was "ghyll."—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2f">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2g"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote G:</span></a> Compare Dr. John Brown: + + <blockquote>Not a passing breeze<br> + Sigh'd to the grove, which in the midnight air<br> + Stood motionless, and in the peaceful floods<br> + Inverted hung.</blockquote> + +and see <a href="#2u">note</a> A to page 31.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2g">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2h"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote H:</span></a> This line was first inserted in the edition of 1845. In the +following line, the edition of 1793 has + + <blockquote>Save that, atop, the subtle ...</blockquote> + +Subsequent editions previous to 1845 have + + <blockquote>Save that aloft ... </blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2h">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2j"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote J:</span></a> The reader, who has made the tour of this country, will +recognize, in this description, the features which characterize the +lower waterfall in the gardens of Rydale.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr2j">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2k"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote K:</span></a> + + <blockquote> "Vivid rings of green."</blockquote> + +Greenwood's Poem on Shooting.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +The title is 'A Poem written during a Shooting Excursion on the Moors'. +It was published by Cruttwell at Bath in 1787, 4to, pp. 25. The +quotation is from stanza xvi., l. 11.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2k">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2l"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote L:</span></a> + + <blockquote>"Down the rough slope the pondrous waggon rings."</blockquote> + +<b>Beattie</b>.—W. W.<br> +<br> +1793. See 'The Minstrel', stanza xxxix., l. 4.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2l">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2m"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote M:</span></a> + +<blockquote>"Dolcemente feroce."</blockquote> + +<b>Tasso</b>. <br> +<br> +In this description of the cock, I remembered a spirited one of +the same animal in the <i>L'Agriculture ou Les Géorgiques Françoises</i>, of +M. Rossuet.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr2m">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2n"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote N:</span></a> I am unable to trace this quotation.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2n">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2p"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote P:</span></a> From Thomson: see Scott's <i>Critical Essays</i>.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +It is difficult to know to what Wordsworth here alludes, but compare +'The Seasons', "Summer," l. 1467. + + <blockquote> and now a golden curve,<br> + Gives one bright glance, then total disappears.</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2p">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2q"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Q:</span></a> See a description of an appearance of this kind in Clark's +<i>Survey of the Lakes</i>, accompanied with vouchers of its veracity, that +may amuse the reader.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +The passage in Clark's folio volume, <i>A Survey of the Lakes</i>, etc., +which suggested to Wordsworth the above lines in the <i>Evening Walk</i>, is +to be found in chapter i. of the second book, p. 55. It gives a weird +account of the appearance of horsemen being exercised in troops upon + + <blockquote>"Southen-fell side, as seen on the 25th of June 1744 by William + Lancaster of Blakehills, and a farm servant, David Strichet:<br> +<br> + "These visionary horsemen seemed to come from the lowest part of + Southen-fell, and became visible just at a place called Knott. They + then moved in regular troops along the side of the fell, till they + came opposite Blakehills, when they went over the mountain. Then they + described a kind of curvilinear path upon the side of the fell, and + both these first and last appearances were bounded by the top of the + mountain.<br> +<br> + "Frequently the last, or last but one, in a troop would leave his + place, and gallop to the front, and then take the same pace with the + rest—a regular swift walk. Thus changes happened to every troop (for + many troops appeared) and oftener than once or twice, yet not at all + times alike.... Nor was this phenomenon seen at Blakehill only, it was + seen by every person at every cottage within the distance of a mile. + Neither was it confined to a momentary view, for from the time that + Strichet first observed it, the appearance must have lasted at least + two hours and a half, viz. from half past seven till the night coming + on prevented further view."</blockquote> + +This interesting optical illusion—which suggests the wonderful island +in the Atlantic, seen from the isles of Aran near Galway, alluded to in +the <i>Chorographical description of West, or H-Ier-Connaught</i>, of R. +O'Flaherty—was caused by the peculiar angle of the light from the +setting sun, the reflection of the water of the Solway, and the +refraction of the vapour and clouds above the Solway. These aerial and +visionary horsemen were being exercised somewhere above the +Kirkcudbright shore. It was not the first time the phenomenon had been +seen within historic times, on the same fell-side, and at the same time +of year. Canon Rawnsley writes to me, + + <blockquote> "I have an idea that the fact that it took place at midsummer eve + (June 27), the eve of the Feast of St. John, upon which occasion the + shepherds hereabout used to light bonfires on the hills (no doubt a + relic of the custom of the Beltane fires of old Norse days, perhaps of + earlier sun-worship festivals of British times), may have had + something to do with the naming of the mountain Blencathara of which + Southen-fell (or Shepherd's-fell, as the name implies) is part. + Blencathara, we are told, may mean the Hill of Demons, or the haunted + hill. My suggestion is that the old sun-worshippers, who met in + midsummer eve on Castrigg at the Druid circle or Donn-ring, saw just + the same phenomenon as Strichet and Lancaster saw upon Southen-fell, + and hence the name. Nay, perhaps the Druid circle was built where it + is, because it was well in view of the Demon Hill."</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2q">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2r"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote R:</span></a> This is a fact of which I have been an eye-witness.—W. W. +1793.<br> +<a href="#fr2r">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2s"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote S:</span></a> The quotation is from Collins' <i>The Passions</i>, l. 60. +Compare <i>Personal Talk</i>, l. 26.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2s">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2t"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote T:</span></a> Alluding to this passage of Spenser: + + <blockquote> ... Her angel face<br> + As the great eye of Heaven shined bright,<br> + And made a sunshine in that shady place.</blockquote> W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +This passage is in <i>The Fairy Queen</i>, book I. canto iii. stanza 4.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2t">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="2u"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote U:</span></a> Compare Dr. John Brown: + + <blockquote> But the soft murmur of swift-gushing rills,<br> + Forth issuing from the mountain's distant steep<br> + (Unheard till now, and now scarce heard), proclaim'd<br> + All things at rest.</blockquote> + +This Dr. John Brown—a singularly versatile English divine +(1717-1766)—was one of the first, as Wordsworth pointed put, to lead +the way to a true estimate of the English Lakes. His description of the +Vale of Keswick, in a letter to a friend, is as fine as anything in +Gray's <i>Journal</i>. Wordsworth himself quotes the lines given in this +footnote in the first section of his <i>Guide through the District of the +Lakes</i>.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr2u">return</a><br> +<a href="#2g">cross-reference: return to Footnote G above</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section4">Lines written while Sailing in a Boat at Evening</a></h2> +<h4>Composed 1789.—Published 1798</h4> + +<a href="#section4a">The Poem</a><br> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">This title is scarcely correct. It was during a solitary walk on the +banks of the Cam that I was first struck with this appearance, and +applied it to my own feelings in the manner here expressed, changing the +scene to the Thames, near Windsor. This, and the three stanzas of the +following poem, <i>Remembrance of Collins</i>, formed one piece; but, upon +the recommendation of Coleridge, the three last stanzas were separated +from the other.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">The title of the poem in 1798, when it consisted of five stanzas, was +<i>Lines written near Richmond, upon the Thames, at Evening</i>. When, in the +edition of 1800, it was divided, the title of the first part was, <i>Lines +written when sailing in a Boat at Evening</i>; that of the second part was +<i>Lines written near Richmond upon the Thames</i>.<br> +<br> +From 1815 to 1843, both poems were placed by Wordsworth among those "of +Sentiment and Reflection." In 1845 they were transferred to "Poems +written in Youth."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section4a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>How richly glows the water's breast<br> +Before us, tinged with evening hues,<br> +While, facing thus the crimson west,<br> +The boat her silent course pursues!<br> +And see how dark the backward stream!<br> +A little moment past so smiling!<br> +And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam,<br> +Some other loiterers beguiling.<br><br> + +Such views the youthful Bard allure;<br> +But, heedless of the following gloom,<br> +He deems their colours shall endure<br> +Till peace go with him to the tomb.<br> +—And let him nurse his fond deceit,<br> +And what if he must die in sorrow!<br> +Who would not cherish dreams so sweet,<br> +Though grief and pain may come to-morrow?</td> + <td><br> +<a name="fr4v1"></a><a href="#4v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr4v2"></a><a href="#4v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr4v3"></a><a href="#4v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="4v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>How rich the wave, in front, imprest<br> + With evening-twilight's summer hues, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr4v1">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="4v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... path ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr4v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="4v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... loiterer ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr4v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section5">Remembrance of Collins</a></h2> +<br> +<i>Composed upon the Thames near Richmond.</i><a href="#5A"><sup>A</sup></a><br> + +<h4>Composed 1789.—Published 1798</h4> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>Glide gently, thus for ever glide,<br> +O Thames! that other bards may see<br> +As lovely visions by thy side<br> +As now, fair river! come to me.<br> +O glide, fair stream! for ever so,<br> +Thy quiet soul on all bestowing,<br> +Till all our minds for ever flow<br> +As thy deep waters now are flowing.<br><br> + +Vain thought!—Yet be as now thou art,<br> +That in thy waters may be seen<br> +The image of a poet's heart,<br> +How bright, how solemn, how serene!<br> +Such as did once the Poet bless,<br> +Who murmuring here a later ditty,<br> +Could find no refuge from distress<br> +But in the milder grief of pity.<br><br> + +Now let us, as we float along,<br> +For <i>him</i> suspend the dashing oar;<br> +And pray that never child of song<br> +May know that Poet's sorrows more.<br> +How calm! how still! the only sound,<br> +The dripping of the oar suspended!<br> +—The evening darkness gathers round<br> +By virtue's holiest Powers attended.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr5v1"></a><a href="#5v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr5v2"></a><a href="#5v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr5v3"></a><a href="#5v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr5v4"></a><a href="#5v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr5v5"></a><a href="#5v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><a name="fr5B"></a><a href="#5B"><sup>B</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr5C"></a><a href="#5C"><sup>C</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr5D"></a><a href="#5D"><sup>D</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="5v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Such heart did once the poet bless, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr5v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="5v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Who, pouring here a <i>later</i><a href="#5i"><sup>i</sup></a> ditty, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr5v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="5v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Remembrance, as we glide along,<br> + <br> + ... float ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr5v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="5v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>For him ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr5v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="5v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>May know his freezing sorrows more.</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr5v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="5A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> The title in the editions 1802-1815 was <i>Remembrance of +Collins, written upon the Thames near Richmond</i>.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#section5">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="5B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> Compare the <i>After-thought</i> to <i>The River Duddon. A Series +of Sonnets</i>: + + <blockquote>Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide.</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr5B">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="5C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> Collins's <i>Ode on the Death of Thomson</i>, the last written, +I believe, of the poems which were published during his life-time. This +Ode is also alluded to in the next stanza.—W. W. 1798.<br> +<a href="#fr5C">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="5D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> Compare Collins's <i>Ode on the Death of Thomson</i>, <i>The Scene +on the Thames near Richmond</i>: + + <blockquote>Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore<br> + When Thames in summer wreaths is drest.<br> + And oft suspend the dashing oar<br> + To bid his gentle spirit rest.</blockquote> + +As Mr. Dowden suggests, the <i>him</i> was probably italicised by Wordsworth, +"because the oar is suspended not for Thomson but for Collins." The +italics were first used in the edition of 1802.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr5D">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="5i"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote i:</span> </a> The italics only occur in the editions of 1798 and +1800.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#5v2">return to variant</a> +<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section6">Descriptive Sketches taken during a Pedestrian Tour among the Alps</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1791-2<a href="#6A"><span style="font-size: 70%;"><sup>A</sup></span></a>—Published 1793</h4> + +<a href="#section6a">The Poem</a><br> + + +<blockquote><b>To the Rev. Robert Jones, Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge</b><br> +<br> +<b>Dear Sir</b><a href="#6B"><sup>B</sup></a>,—However <a name="fr6B">desirous</a> I might have been of giving you proofs +of the high place you hold in my esteem, I should have been cautious of +wounding your delicacy by thus publicly addressing you, had not the +circumstance of our having been companions among the Alps, seemed to +give this dedication a propriety sufficient to do away any scruples +which your modesty might otherwise have suggested<a href="#6C"><sup>C</sup></a>.<br> +<br> +In inscribing this little work to you, I consult my heart. You know well +how great is the difference between two companions lolling in a +post-chaise, and two travellers plodding slowly along the road, side by +side, each with his little knapsack of necessaries upon his shoulders. +How much more of heart between the two latter!<br> +<br> +I am happy in being conscious that I shall have one reader who will +approach the conclusion of these few pages with regret. You they must +certainly interest, in reminding you of moments to which you can hardly +look back without a pleasure not the less dear from a shade of +melancholy. You will meet with few images without recollecting the spot +where we observed them together; consequently, whatever is feeble in my +design, or spiritless in my colouring, will be amply supplied by your +own memory.<br> +<br> +With still greater propriety I might have inscribed to you a description +of some of the features of your native mountains, through which we have +wandered together, in the same manner, with so much pleasure. But the +sea-sunsets, which give such splendour to the vale of Clwyd, Snowdon, +the chair of Idris, the quiet village of Bethgelert, Menai and her +Druids, the Alpine steeps of the Conway, and the still more interesting +windings of the wizard stream of the Dee, remain yet untouched. +Apprehensive that my pencil may never be exercised on these subjects, I +cannot let slip this opportunity of thus publicly assuring you with how +much affection and esteem<br> +<br> +I am, dear Sir, <br> +Most sincerely yours, <br> +<b>W. Wordsworth.<br> +<br> +London</b>, 1793.</blockquote> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #663300;"> Much the greatest part of this poem was composed during my walks upon + the banks of the Loire, in the years 1791, 1792. I will only notice + that the description of the valley filled with mist, beginning—'In + solemn shapes'—was taken from that beautiful region of which the + principal features are Lungarn and Sarnen. Nothing that I ever saw in + Nature left a more delightful impression on my mind than that which I + have attempted, alas, how feebly! to convey to others in these lines. + Those two lakes have always interested me especially, from bearing in + their size and other features, a resemblance to those of the North of + England. It is much to be deplored that a district so beautiful should + be so unhealthy as it is.—I. F.</span><br><br> + + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<span style="color: #555555;">As the original text of the <i>Descriptive Sketches</i> is printed in +<a href="#section29">Appendix I.</a> (p. 309) to this volume—with all the notes to that edition +of 1793—it is not quoted in the footnotes to the final text in the +pages which follow, except in cases which will justify themselves. +Therefore the various readings which follow begin with the edition of +1815, which was, however, a mere fragment of the original text. Almost +the whole of the poem of 1793 was reproduced in 1820, but there were +many alterations of the text in that edition, and in those of 1827, +1832, 1836 and 1845. Wordsworth's own footnotes here reproduced are +those which he retained in the edition of 1849.<br> +<br> +<i>Descriptive Sketches</i> <a name="fr6D">was</a> ranked among the "Juvenile Pieces" from 1815 +onwards: but in 1836 it was put in a class by itself along with the +<i>Female Vagrant</i><a href="#6D"><sup>D</sup></a>.—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +'Happiness (if she had been to be found on earth) among the charms of +Nature—<br> +Pleasures of the pedestrian Traveller—<br> +Author crosses France to +the Alps—<br> +Present state of the Grande Chartreuse—<br> +Lake of Como—<br> +Time, Sunset—<br> +Same Scene, Twilight—<br> +Same Scene, Morning; its voluptuous Character; Old man and forest-cottage music—<br> +River Tusa—<br> +Via Mala and Grison Gipsy—<br> +Sckellenen-thal—<br> +Lake of Uri—<br> +Stormy sunset—<br> +Chapel of William Tell—<br> +Force of local emotion—<br> +Chamois-chaser—<br> +View of the higher Alps—<br> +Manner of Life of a Swiss mountaineer, interspersed with views of +the higher Alps—<br> +Golden Age of the Alps—<br> +Life and views continued—<br> +Ranz des Vaches, famous Swiss Air—<br> +Abbey of Einsiedlen and its pilgrims—<br> +Valley of Chamouny—<br> +Mont Blanc—<br> +Slavery of Savoy—<br> +Influence of liberty on cottage-happiness—<br> +France—<br> +Wish for the Extirpation of slavery—<br> +Conclusion'.<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section6a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> + +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>Were there, below, a spot of holy ground<br> +Where from distress a refuge might be found,<br> +And solitude prepare the soul for heaven;<br> +Sure, nature's God that spot to man had given<br> +Where falls the purple morning far and wide<br> +In flakes of light upon the mountain-side;<br> +Where with loud voice the power of water shakes<br> +The leafy wood, or sleeps in quiet lakes.<br><br> + + Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam,<br> +Who at the call of summer quits his home,<br> +And plods through some wide realm o'er vale and height,<br> +Though seeking only holiday delight;<br> +At least, not owning to himself an aim<br> +To which the sage would give a prouder name.<br> +No gains too cheaply earned his fancy cloy,<br> +Though every passing zephyr whispers joy;<br> +Brisk toil, alternating with ready ease,<br> +Feeds the clear current of his sympathies.<br> +For him sod-seats the cottage-door adorn;<br> +And peeps the far-off spire, his evening bourn!<br> +Dear is the forest frowning o'er his head,<br> +And dear the velvet green-sward to his tread:<br> +Moves there a cloud o'er mid-day's flaming eye?<br> +Upward he looks—"and calls it luxury:"<br> +Kind Nature's charities his steps attend;<br> +In every babbling brook he finds a friend;<br> +While chastening thoughts of sweetest use, bestowed<br> +By wisdom, moralise his pensive road.<br> +Host of his welcome inn, the noon-tide bower,<br> +To his spare meal he calls the passing poor;<br> +He views the sun uplift his golden fire,<br> +Or sink, with heart alive like Memnon's lyre;<br> +Blesses the moon that comes with kindly ray,<br> +To light him shaken by his rugged way.<br> +Back from his sight no bashful children steal;<br> +He sits a brother at the cottage-meal;<br> +His humble looks no shy restraint impart;<br> +Around him plays at will the virgin heart.<br> +While unsuspended wheels the village dance,<br> +The maidens eye him with enquiring glance,<br> +Much wondering by what fit of crazing care,<br> +Or desperate love, bewildered, he came there.<br><br> + + A hope, that prudence could not then approve,<br> +That clung to Nature with a truant's love,<br> +O'er Gallia's wastes of corn my footsteps led;<br> +Her files of road-elms, high above my head<br> +In long-drawn vista, rustling in the breeze;<br> +Or where her pathways straggle as they please<br> +By lonely farms and secret villages.<br> +But lo! the Alps ascending white in air,<br> +Toy with the sun and glitter from afar.<br><br> + + And now, emerging from the forest's gloom,<br> +I greet thee, Chartreuse, while I mourn thy doom.<br> +Whither is fled that Power whose frown severe<br> +Awed sober Reason till she crouched in fear?<br> +<i>That</i> Silence, once in deathlike fetters bound,<br> +Chains that were loosened only by the sound<br> +Of holy rites chanted in measured round?<br><br> + +—The voice of blasphemy the fane alarms,<br> +The cloister startles at the gleam of arms.<br> +The thundering tube the aged angler hears,<br> +Bent o'er the groaning flood that sweeps away his tears.<br> +Cloud-piercing pine-trees nod their troubled heads,<br> +Spires, rocks, and lawns a browner night o'erspreads;<br> +Strong terror checks the female peasant's sighs, <br> +And start the astonished shades at female eyes.<br> +From Bruno's forest screams the affrighted jay,<br> +And slow the insulted eagle wheels away.<br> +A viewless flight of laughing Demons mock<br> +The Cross, by angels planted on the aërial rock. <br> +The "parting Genius" sighs with hollow breath<br> +Along the mystic streams of Life and Death.<br> +Swelling the outcry dull, that long resounds<br> +Portentous through her old woods' trackless bounds,<br> +Vallombre, 'mid her falling fanes deplores <br> +For ever broke, the sabbath of her bowers.<br><br> + + More pleased, my foot the hidden margin roves<br> +Of Como, bosomed deep in chestnut groves.<br> +No meadows thrown between, the giddy steeps<br> +Tower, bare or sylvan, from the narrow deeps. <br> +—To towns, whose shades of no rude noise complain,<br> +From ringing team apart and grating wain—<br> +To flat-roofed towns, that touch the water's bound,<br> +Or lurk in woody sunless glens profound,<br> +Or, from the bending rocks, obtrusive cling, <br> +And o'er the whitened wave their shadows fling—<br> +The pathway leads, as round the steeps it twines;<br> +And Silence loves its purple roof of vines.<br> +The loitering traveller hence, at evening, sees<br> +From rock-hewn steps the sail between the trees; <br> +Or marks, 'mid opening cliffs, fair dark-eyed maids<br> +Tend the small harvest of their garden glades;<br> +Or stops the solemn mountain-shades to view<br> +Stretch o'er the pictured mirror broad and blue,<br> +And track the yellow lights from steep to steep, <br> +As up the opposing hills they slowly creep.<br> +Aloft, here, half a village shines, arrayed<br> +In golden light; half hides itself in shade:<br> +While, from amid the darkened roofs, the spire,<br> +Restlessly flashing, seems to mount like fire: <br> +There, all unshaded, blazing forests throw<br> +Rich golden verdure on the lake below.<br> +Slow glides the sail along the illumined shore,<br> +And steals into the shade the lazy oar;<br> +Soft bosoms breathe around contagious sighs, <br> +And amorous music on the water dies.<br><br> + + How blest, delicious scene! the eye that greets<br> +Thy open beauties, or thy lone retreats;<br> +Beholds the unwearied sweep of wood that scales<br> +Thy cliffs; the endless waters of thy vales; <br> +Thy lowly cots that sprinkle all the shore,<br> +Each with its household boat beside the door;<br> +Thy torrents shooting from the clear-blue sky;<br> +Thy towns, that cleave, like swallows' nests, on high;<br> +That glimmer hoar in eve's last light descried<br> +Dim from the twilight water's shaggy side,<br> +Whence lutes and voices down the enchanted woods<br> +Steal, and compose the oar-forgotten floods;<br> +—Thy lake, that, streaked or dappled, blue or grey,<br> +'Mid smoking woods gleams hid from morning's ray<br> +Slow-travelling down the western hills, to' enfold<br> +Its green-tinged margin in a blaze of gold;<br> +Thy glittering steeples, whence the matin bell<br> +Calls forth the woodman from his desert cell,<br> +And quickens the blithe sound of oars that pass<br> +Along the steaming lake, to early mass.<br> +But now farewell to each and all—adieu<br> +To every charm, and last and chief to you,<br> +Ye lovely maidens that in noontide shade<br> +Rest near your little plots of wheaten glade;<br> +To all that binds the soul in powerless trance,<br> +Lip-dewing song, and ringlet-tossing dance;<br> +Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume<br> +The sylvan cabin's lute-enlivened gloom.<br> +—Alas! the very murmur of the streams<br> +Breathes o'er the failing soul voluptuous dreams,<br> +While Slavery, forcing the sunk mind to dwell<br> +On joys that might disgrace the captive's cell,<br> +Her shameless timbrel shakes on Como's marge,<br> +And lures from bay to bay the vocal barge.<br><br> + + Yet are thy softer arts with power indued<br> +To soothe and cheer the poor man's solitude.<br> +By silent cottage-doors, the peasant's home<br> +Left vacant for the day, I loved to roam.<br> +But once I pierced the mazes of a wood<br> +In which a cabin undeserted stood;<br> +There an old man an olden measure scanned<br> +On a rude viol touched with withered hand.<br> +As lambs or fawns in April clustering lie<br> +Under a hoary oak's thin canopy,<br> +Stretched at his feet, with stedfast upward eye,<br> +His children's children listened to the sound;<br> +—A Hermit with his family around!<br><br> + + But let us hence; for fair Locarno smiles<br> +Embowered in walnut slopes and citron isles:<br> +Or seek at eve the banks of Tusa's stream,<br> +Where, 'mid dim towers and woods, her waters gleam.<br> +From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire<br> +The dull-red steeps, and, darkening still, aspire<br> +To where afar rich orange lustres glow<br> +Round undistinguished clouds, and rocks, and snow:<br> +Or, led where Via Mala's chasms confine<br> +The indignant waters of the infant Rhine,<br> +Hang o'er the abyss, whose else impervious gloom<br> +His burning eyes with fearful light illume.<br><br> + + The mind condemned, without reprieve, to go<br> +O'er life's long deserts with its charge of woe,<br> +With sad congratulation joins the train<br> +Where beasts and men together o'er the plain<br> +Move on—a mighty caravan of pain:<br> +Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings,<br> +Freshening the wilderness with shades and springs.<br> +—There be whose lot far otherwise is cast:<br> +Sole human tenant of the piny waste,<br> +By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here,<br> +A nursling babe her only comforter;<br> +Lo, where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock,<br> +A cowering shape half hid in curling smoke!<br><br> + + When lightning among clouds and mountain-snows<br> +Predominates, and darkness comes and goes,<br> +And the fierce torrent, at the flashes broad<br> +Starts, like a horse, beside the glaring road—<br> +She seeks a covert from the battering shower<br> +In the roofed bridge; the bridge, in that dread hour,<br> +Itself all trembling at the torrent's power.<br><br> + + Nor is she more at ease on some <i>still</i> night,<br> +When not a star supplies the comfort of its light;<br> +Only the waning moon hangs dull and red<br> +Above a melancholy mountain's head,<br> +Then sets. In total gloom the Vagrant sighs,<br> +Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes;<br> +Or on her fingers counts the distant clock,<br> +Or, to the drowsy crow of midnight cock,<br> +Listens, or quakes while from the forest's gulf<br> +Howls near and nearer yet the famished wolf.<br><br> + + From the green vale of Urseren smooth and wide<br> +Descend we now, the maddened Reuss our guide;<br> +By rocks that, shutting out the blessed day,<br> +Cling tremblingly to rocks as loose as they;<br> +By cells upon whose image, while he prays,<br> +The kneeling peasant scarcely dares to gaze;<br> +By many a votive death-cross planted near,<br> +And watered duly with the pious tear,<br> +That faded silent from the upward eye<br> +Unmoved with each rude form of peril nigh;<br> +Fixed on the anchor left by Him who saves<br> +Alike in whelming snows, and roaring waves.<br><br> + + But soon a peopled region on the sight<br> +Opens—a little world of calm delight;<br> +Where mists, suspended on the expiring gale,<br> +Spread roof like o'er the deep secluded vale,<br> +And beams of evening slipping in between,<br> +Gently illuminate a sober scene:— <br> +Here, on the brown wood-cottages they sleep,<br> +There, over rock or sloping pasture creep.<br> +On as we journey, in clear view displayed,<br> +The still vale lengthens underneath its shade<br> +Of low-hung vapour: on the freshened mead<br> +The green light sparkles;—the dim bowers recede.<br> +While pastoral pipes and streams the landscape lull,<br> +And bells of passing mules that tinkle dull, <br> +In solemn shapes before the admiring eye<br> +Dilated hang the misty pines on high,<br> +Huge convent domes with pinnacles and towers,<br> +And antique castles seen through gleamy showers. <br><br> + + From such romantic dreams, my soul, awake!<br> +To sterner pleasure, where, by Uri's lake<br> +In Nature's pristine majesty outspread,<br> +Winds neither road nor path for foot to tread:<br> +The rocks rise naked as a wall, or stretch,<br> +Far o'er the water, hung with groves of beech;<br> +Aerial pines from loftier steeps ascend,<br> +Nor stop but where creation seems to end.<br> +Yet here and there, if 'mid the savage scene<br> +Appears a scanty plot of smiling green,<br> +Up from the lake a zigzag path will creep<br> +To reach a small wood-hut hung boldly on the steep.<br> +—Before those thresholds (never can they know<br> +The face of traveller passing to and fro,)<br> +No peasant leans upon his pole, to tell<br> +For whom at morning tolled the funeral bell;<br> +Their watch-dog ne'er his angry bark foregoes,<br> +Touched by the beggar's moan of human woes;<br> +The shady porch ne'er offered a cool seat<br> +To pilgrims overcome by summer's heat.<br> +Yet thither the world's business finds its way<br> +At times, and tales unsought beguile the day,<br> +And <i>there</i> are those fond thoughts which Solitude,<br> +However stern, is powerless to exclude.<br> +There doth the maiden watch her lover's sail<br> +Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale;<br> +At midnight listens till his parting oar,<br> +And its last echo, can be heard no more.<br><br> + + And what if ospreys, cormorants, herons cry,<br> +Amid tempestuous vapours driving by,<br> +Or hovering over wastes too bleak to rear<br> +That common growth of earth, the foodful ear;<br> +Where the green apple shrivels on the spray,<br> +And pines the unripened pear in summer's kindliest ray;<br> +Contentment shares the desolate domain<br> +With Independence, child of high Disdain.<br> +Exulting 'mid the winter of the skies,<br> +Shy as the jealous chamois, Freedom flies,<br> +And grasps by fits her sword, and often eyes;<br> +And sometimes, as from rock to rock she bounds<br> +The Patriot nymph starts at imagined sounds,<br> +And, wildly pausing, oft she hangs aghast,<br> +Whether some old Swiss air hath checked her haste<br> +Or thrill of Spartan fife is caught between the blast.<br><br> + + Swoln with incessant rains from hour to hour,<br> +All day the floods a deepening murmur pour:<br> +The sky is veiled, and every cheerful sight:<br> +Dark is the region as with coming night;<br> +But what a sudden burst of overpowering light!<br> +Triumphant on the bosom of the storm,<br> +Glances the wheeling eagle's glorious form!<br> +Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine<br> +The wood-crowned cliffs that o'er the lake recline;<br> +Those lofty cliffs a hundred streams unfold,<br> +At once to pillars turned that flame with gold:<br> +Behind his sail the peasant shrinks, to shun<br> +The <i>west</i>, that burns like one dilated sun,<br> +A crucible of mighty compass, felt<br> +By mountains, glowing till they seem to melt.<br><br> + + But, lo! the boatman, overawed, before<br> +The pictured fane of Tell suspends his oar;<br> +Confused the Marathonian tale appears,<br> +While his eyes sparkle with heroic tears.<br> +And who, that walks where men of ancient days<br> +Have wrought with godlike arm the deeds of praise,<br> +Feels not the spirit of the place control,<br> +Or rouse and agitate his labouring soul?<br> +Say, who, by thinking on Canadian hills,<br> +Or wild Aosta lulled by Alpine rills,<br> +On Zutphen's plain; or on that highland dell,<br> +Through which rough Garry cleaves his way, can tell<br> +What high resolves exalt the tenderest thought<br> +Of him whom passion rivets to the spot,<br> +Where breathed the gale that caught Wolfe's happiest sigh,<br> +And the last sunbeam fell on Bayard's eye;<br> +Where bleeding Sidney from the cup retired,<br> +And glad Dundee in "faint huzzas" expired?<br><br> + + But now with other mind I stand alone<br> +Upon the summit of this naked cone,<br> +And watch the fearless chamois-hunter chase<br> +His prey, through tracts abrupt of desolate space,<br> +Through vacant worlds where Nature never gave<br> +A brook to murmur or a bough to wave,<br> +Which unsubstantial Phantoms sacred keep;<br> +Thro' worlds where Life, and Voice, and Motion sleep;<br> +Where silent Hours their death-like sway extend,<br> +Save when the avalanche breaks loose, to rend<br> +Its way with uproar, till the ruin, drowned<br> +In some dense wood or gulf of snow profound,<br> +Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound.<br> +—'Tis his, while wandering on from height to height,<br> +To see a planet's pomp and steady light<br> +In the least star of scarce-appearing night;<br> +While the pale moon moves near him, on the bound<br> +Of ether, shining with diminished round,<br> +And far and wide the icy summits blaze,<br> +Rejoicing in the glory of her rays:<br> +To him the day-star glitters small and bright,<br> +Shorn of its beams, insufferably white,<br> +And he can look beyond the sun, and view<br> +Those fast-receding depths of sable blue<br> +Flying till vision can no more pursue!<br> +—At once bewildering mists around him close,<br> +And cold and hunger are his least of woes;<br> +The Demon of the snow, with angry roar<br> +Descending, shuts for aye his prison door.<br> +Soon with despair's whole weight his spirits sink;<br> +Bread has he none, the snow must be his drink;<br> +And, ere his eyes can close upon the day,<br> +The eagle of the Alps o'ershades her prey.<br><br> + + Now couch thyself where, heard with fear afar,<br> +Thunders through echoing pines the headlong Aar;<br> +Or rather stay to taste the mild delights<br> +Of pensive Underwalden's pastoral heights.<br> +—Is there who 'mid these awful wilds has seen<br> +The native Genii walk the mountain green?<br> +Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal,<br> +Soft music o'er the aërial summit steal?<br> +While o'er the desert, answering every close,<br> +Rich steam of sweetest perfume comes and goes.<br> +—And sure there is a secret Power that reigns<br> +Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes,<br> +Nought but the <i>chalets</i>, flat and bare, on high<br> +Suspended 'mid the quiet of the sky;<br> +Or distant herds that pasturing upward creep,<br> +And, not untended, climb the dangerous steep.<br> +How still! no irreligious sound or sight<br> +Rouses the soul from her severe delight.<br> +An idle voice the sabbath region fills<br> +Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills,<br> +And with that voice accords the soothing sound<br> +Of drowsy bells, for ever tinkling round;<br> +Faint wail of eagle melting into blue<br> +Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods' steady <i>sugh</i>;<br> +The solitary heifer's deepened low;<br> +Or rumbling, heard remote, of falling snow.<br> +All motions, sounds, and voices, far and nigh,<br> +Blend in a music of tranquillity;<br> +Save when, a stranger seen below the boy<br> +Shouts from the echoing hills with savage joy.<br><br> + + When, from the sunny breast of open seas,<br> +And bays with myrtle fringed, the southern breeze<br> +Comes on to gladden April with the sight<br> +Of green isles widening on each snow-clad height;<br> +When shouts and lowing herds the valley fill,<br> +And louder torrents stun the noon-tide hill,<br> +The pastoral Swiss begin the cliffs to scale,<br> +Leaving to silence the deserted vale;<br> +And like the Patriarchs in their simple age<br> +Move, as the verdure leads, from stage to stage; <br> +High and more high in summer's heat they go,<br> +And hear the rattling thunder far below;<br> +Or steal beneath the mountains, half-deterred,<br> +Where huge rocks tremble to the bellowing herd.<br><br> + + One I behold who, 'cross the foaming flood,<br> +Leaps with a bound of graceful hardihood;<br> +Another high on that green ledge;—he gained<br> +The tempting spot with every sinew strained;<br> +And downward thence a knot of grass he throws,<br> +Food for his beasts in time of winter snows.<br> +—Far different life from what Tradition hoar<br> +Transmits of happier lot in times of yore!<br> +Then Summer lingered long; and honey flowed<br> +From out the rocks, the wild bees' safe abode:<br> +Continual waters welling cheered the waste, <br> +And plants were wholesome, now of deadly taste:<br> +Nor Winter yet his frozen stores had piled,<br> +Usurping where the fairest herbage smiled:<br> +Nor Hunger driven the herds from pastures bare,<br> +To climb the treacherous cliffs for scanty fare.<br> +Then the milk-thistle flourished through the land,<br> +And forced the full-swoln udder to demand,<br> +Thrice every day, the pail and welcome hand.<br> +Thus does the father to his children tell<br> +Of banished bliss, by fancy loved too well.<br> +Alas! that human guilt provoked the rod<br> +Of angry Nature to avenge her God.<br> +Still, Nature, ever just, to him imparts<br> +Joys only given to uncorrupted hearts.<br><br> + + 'Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows;<br> +More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose. <br> +Far-stretched beneath the many-tinted hills,<br> +A mighty waste of mist the valley fills,<br> +A solemn sea! whose billows wide around<br> +Stand motionless, to awful silence bound: <br> +Pines, on the coast, through mist their tops uprear,<br> +That like to leaning masts of stranded ships appear.<br> +A single chasm, a gulf of gloomy blue,<br> +Gapes in the centre of the sea—and through<br> +That dark mysterious gulf ascending, sound <br> +Innumerable streams with roar profound.<br> +Mount through the nearer vapours notes of birds,<br> +And merry flageolet; the low of herds,<br> +The bark of dogs, the heifer's tinkling bell,<br> +Talk, laughter, and perchance a church-tower knell:<br> +Think not, the peasant from aloft has gazed <br> +And heard with heart unmoved, with soul unraised:<br> +Nor is his spirit less enrapt, nor less<br> +Alive to independent happiness,<br> +Then, when he lies, out-stretched, at even-tide<br> +Upon the fragrant mountain's purple side:<br> +For as the pleasures of his simple day<br> +Beyond his native valley seldom stray,<br> +Nought round its darling precincts can he find<br> +But brings some past enjoyment to his mind;<br> +While Hope, reclining upon Pleasure's urn,<br> +Binds her wild wreaths, and whispers his return.<br><br> + + Once, Man entirely free, alone and wild,<br> +Was blest as free—for he was Nature's child.<br> +He, all superior but his God disdained,<br> +Walked none restraining, and by none restrained:<br> +Confessed no law but what his reason taught,<br> +Did all he wished, and wished but what he ought.<br> +As man in his primeval dower arrayed<br> +The image of his glorious Sire displayed,<br> +Even so, by faithful Nature guarded, here<br> +The traces of primeval Man appear;<br> +The simple dignity no forms debase;<br> +The eye sublime, and surly lion-grace:<br> +The slave of none, of beasts alone the lord,<br> +His book he prizes, nor neglects his sword;<br> +—Well taught by that to feel his rights, prepared<br> +With this "the blessings he enjoys to guard."<br><br> + + And, as his native hills encircle ground<br> +For many a marvellous victory renowned,<br> +The work of Freedom daring to oppose,<br> +With few in arms, innumerable foes,<br> +When to those famous fields his steps are led,<br> +An unknown power connects him with the dead:<br> +For images of other worlds are there;<br> +Awful the light, and holy is the air.<br> +Fitfully, and in flashes, through his soul,<br> +Like sun-lit tempests, troubled transports roll;<br> +His bosom heaves, his Spirit towers amain,<br> +Beyond the senses and their little reign.<br><br> + + And oft, when that dread vision hath past by,<br> +He holds with God himself communion high,<br> +There where the peal of swelling torrents fills<br> +The sky-roofed temple of the eternal hills;<br> +Or, when upon the mountain's silent brow<br> +Reclined, he sees, above him and below,<br> +Bright stars of ice and azure fields of snow;<br> +While needle peaks of granite shooting bare<br> +Tremble in ever-varying tints of air.<br> +And when a gathering weight of shadows brown<br> +Falls on the valleys as the sun goes down;<br> +And Pikes, of darkness named and fear and storms,<br> +Uplift in quiet their illumined forms,<br> +In sea-like reach of prospect round him spread,<br> +Tinged like an angel's smile all rosy red—<br> +Awe in his breast with holiest love unites,<br> +And the near heavens impart their own delights.<br><br> + + When downward to his winter hut he goes,<br> +Dear and more dear the lessening circle grows;<br> +That hut which on the hills so oft employs<br> +His thoughts, the central point of all his joys.<br> +And as a swallow, at the hour of rest,<br> +Peeps often ere she darts into her nest,<br> +So to the homestead, where the grandsire tends<br> +A little prattling child, he oft descends,<br> +To glance a look upon the well-matched pair;<br> +Till storm and driving ice blockade him there.<br> +There, safely guarded by the woods behind,<br> +He hears the chiding of the baffled wind,<br> +Hears Winter calling all his terrors round,<br> +And, blest within himself, he shrinks not from the sound.<br><br> + + Through Nature's vale his homely pleasures glide,<br> +Unstained by envy, discontent, and pride;<br> +The bound of all his vanity, to deck,<br> +With one bright bell, a favourite heifer's neck;<br> +Well pleased upon some simple annual feast,<br> +Remembered half the year and hoped the rest,<br> +If dairy-produce, from his inner hoard,<br> +Of thrice ten summers dignify the board.<br> +—Alas! in every clime a flying ray<br> +Is all we have to cheer our wintry way;<br> +<br> +And here the unwilling mind may more than trace<br> +The general sorrows of the human race:<br> +The churlish gales of penury, that blow<br> +Cold as the north-wind o'er a waste of snow,<br> +To them the gentle groups of bliss deny<br> +That on the noon-day bank of leisure lie.<br> +Yet more;—compelled by Powers which only deign<br> +That <i>solitary</i> man disturb their reign,<br> +Powers that support an unremitting strife<br> +With all the tender charities of life,<br> +Full oft the father, when his sons have grown<br> +To manhood, seems their title to disown;<br> +And from his nest amid the storms of heaven<br> +Drives, eagle-like, those sons as he was driven;<br> +With stern composure watches to the plain—<br> +And never, eagle-like, beholds again!<br><br> + + When long familiar joys are all resigned,<br> +Why does their sad remembrance haunt the mind?<br> +Lo! where through flat Batavia's willowy groves,<br> +Or by the lazy Seine, the exile roves;<br> +O'er the curled waters Alpine measures swell,<br> +And search the affections to their inmost cell;<br> +Sweet poison spreads along the listener's veins,<br> +Turning past pleasures into mortal pains;<br> +Poison, which not a frame of steel can brave,<br> +Bows his young head with sorrow to the grave.<br><br> + + Gay lark of hope, thy silent song resume!<br> +Ye flattering eastern lights, once more the hills illume!<br> +Fresh gales and dews of life's delicious morn,<br> +And thou, lost fragrance of the heart, return!<br> +Alas! the little joy to man allowed,<br> +Fades like the lustre of an evening cloud;<br> +Or like the beauty in a flower installed,<br> +Whose season was, and cannot be recalled.<br> +Yet, when opprest by sickness, grief, or care,<br> +And taught that pain is pleasure's natural heir,<br> +We still confide in more than we can know;<br> +Death would be else the favourite friend of woe.<br><br> + + 'Mid savage rocks, and seas of snow that shine,<br> +Between interminable tracts of pine,<br> +Within a temple stands an awful shrine,<br> +By an uncertain light revealed, that falls<br> +On the mute Image and the troubled walls.<br> +Oh! give not me that eye of hard disdain<br> +That views, undimmed, Ensiedlen's wretched fane.<br> +While ghastly faces through the gloom appear,<br> +Abortive joy, and hope that works in fear;<br> +While prayer contends with silenced agony,<br> +Surely in other thoughts contempt may die.<br> +If the sad grave of human ignorance bear<br> +One flower of hope—oh, pass and leave it there!<br><br> + + The tall sun, pausing on an Alpine spire,<br> +Flings o'er the wilderness a stream of fire:<br> +Now meet we other pilgrims ere the day<br> +Close on the remnant of their weary way;<br> +While they are drawing toward the sacred floor<br> +Where, so they fondly think, the worm shall gnaw no more.<br> +How gaily murmur and how sweetly taste<br> +The fountains reared for them amid the waste! <br> +Their thirst they slake:—they wash their toil-worn feet,<br> +And some with tears of joy each other greet.<br> +Yes, I must see you when ye first behold<br> +Those holy turrets tipped with evening gold,<br> +In that glad moment will for you a sigh<br> +Be heaved, of charitable sympathy;<br> +In that glad moment when your hands are prest <br> +In mute devotion on the thankful breast!<br><br> + + Last, let us turn to Chamouny that shields<br> +With rocks and gloomy woods her fertile fields:<br> +Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,<br> +And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend;—<br> +A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns<br> +Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains;<br> +Here all the seasons revel hand in hand:<br> +'Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned<br> +They sport beneath that mountain's matchless height<br> +That holds no commerce with the summer night.<br> +From age to age, throughout his lonely bounds<br> +The crash of ruin fitfully resounds;<br> +Appalling havoc! but serene his brow,<br> +Where daylight lingers on perpetual snow;<br> +Glitter the stars, and all is black below.<br><br> + + What marvel then if many a Wanderer sigh,<br> +While roars the sullen Arve in anger by,<br> +That not for thy reward, unrivall'd Vale!<br> +Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale;<br> +That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed to pine<br> +And droop, while no Italian arts are thine,<br> +To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine.<br><br> + + Hail Freedom! whether it was mine to stray,<br> +With shrill winds whistling round my lonely way,<br> +On the bleak sides of Cumbria's heath-clad moors,<br> +Or where dank sea-weed lashes Scotland's shores;<br> +To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose,<br> +And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;<br> +Still have I found, where Tyranny prevails,<br> +That virtue languishes and pleasure fails,<br> +While the remotest hamlets blessings share<br> +In thy loved presence known, and only there;<br> +<i>Heart</i>-blessings—outward treasures too which the eye<br> +Of the sun peeping through the clouds can spy,<br> +And every passing breeze will testify.<br> +There, to the porch, belike with jasmine bound<br> +Or woodbine wreaths, a smoother path is wound;<br> +The housewife there a brighter garden sees,<br> +Where hum on busier wing her happy bees;<br> +On infant cheeks there fresher roses blow;<br> +And grey-haired men look up with livelier brow,—<br> +To greet the traveller needing food and rest;<br> +Housed for the night, or but a half-hour's guest.<br><br> + + And oh, fair France! though now the traveller sees<br> +Thy three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze;<br> +Though martial songs have banished songs of love,<br> +And nightingales desert the village grove,<br> +Scared by the fife and rumbling drum's alarms,<br> +And the short thunder, and the flash of arms;<br> +That cease not till night falls, when far and nigh,<br> +Sole sound, the Sourd prolongs his mournful cry!<br> +—Yet, hast thou found that Freedom spreads her power<br> +Beyond the cottage-hearth, the cottage-door:<br> +All nature smiles, and owns beneath her eyes<br> +Her fields peculiar, and peculiar skies.<br> +Yes, as I roamed where Loiret's waters glide<br> +Through rustling aspens heard from side to side,<br> +When from October clouds a milder light<br> +Fell where the blue flood rippled into white;<br> +Methought from every cot the watchful bird<br> +Crowed with ear-piercing power till then unheard;<br> +Each clacking mill, that broke the murmuring streams,<br> +Rocked the charmed thought in more delightful dreams;<br> +Chasing those pleasant dreams, the falling leaf<br> +Awoke a fainter sense of moral grief;<br> +The measured echo of the distant flail<br> +Wound in more welcome cadence down the vale;<br> +With more majestic course the water rolled,<br> +And ripening foliage shone with richer gold.<br> +—But foes are gathering—Liberty must raise<br> +Red on the hills her beacon's far-seen blaze;<br> +Must bid the tocsin ring from tower to tower!—<br> +Nearer and nearer comes the trying hour!<br> +Rejoice, brave Land, though pride's perverted ire<br> +Rouse hell's own aid, and wrap thy fields in fire:<br> +Lo, from the flames a great and glorious birth;<br> +As if a new-made heaven were hailing a new earth!<br> +—All cannot be: the promise is too fair<br> +For creatures doomed to breathe terrestrial air:<br> +Yet not for this will sober reason frown<br> +Upon that promise, not the hope disown;<br> +She knows that only from high aims ensue<br> +Rich guerdons, and to them alone are due.<br><br> + + Great God! by whom the strifes of men are weighed<br> +In an impartial balance, give thine aid<br> +To the just cause; and, oh! do thou preside<br> +Over the mighty stream now spreading wide:<br> +So shall its waters, from the heavens supplied<br> +In copious showers, from earth by wholesome springs,<br> +Brood o'er the long-parched lands with Nile-like wings!<br> +And grant that every sceptred child of clay<br> +Who cries presumptuous, "Here the flood shall stay,"<br> +May in its progress see thy guiding hand,<br> +And cease the acknowledged purpose to withstand;<br> +Or, swept in anger from the insulted shore,<br> +Sink with his servile bands, to rise no more!<br><br> + + To-night, my Friend, within this humble cot<br> +Be scorn and fear and hope alike forgot<br> +In timely sleep; and when, at break of day,<br> +On the tall peaks the glistening sunbeams play,<br> +With a light heart our course we may renew,<br> +The first whose footsteps print the mountain dew.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v1"></a><a href="#6v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v2"></a><a href="#6v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v3"></a><a href="#6v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v4"></a><a href="#6v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v5"></a><a href="#6v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v6"></a><a href="#6v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v7"></a><a href="#6v7"><sup>7</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v8"></a><a href="#6v8"><sup>8</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v9"></a><a href="#6v9"><sup>9</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v10"></a><a href="#6v10"><sup>10</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v11"></a><a href="#6v11"><sup>11</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v12"></a><a href="#6v12"><sup>12</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v13"></a><a href="#6v13"><sup>13</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v14"></a><a href="#6v14"><sup>14</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v15"></a><a href="#6v15"><sup>15</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v16"></a><a href="#6v16"><sup>16</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v17"></a><a href="#6v17"><sup>17</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v18"></a><a href="#6v18"><sup>18</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v19"></a><a href="#6v19"><sup>19</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v20"></a><a href="#6v20"><sup>20</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v21"></a><a href="#6v21"><sup>21</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v22"></a><a href="#6v22"><sup>22</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v23"></a><a href="#6v23"><sup>23</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v24"></a><a href="#6v24"><sup>24</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v25"></a><a href="#6v25"><sup>25</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v26"></a><a href="#6v26"><sup>26</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v27"></a><a href="#6v27"><sup>27</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v28"></a><a href="#6v28"><sup>28</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v29"></a><a href="#6v29"><sup>29</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v30"></a><a href="#6v30"><sup>30</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v31"></a><a href="#6v31"><sup>31</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v32"></a><a href="#6v32"><sup>32</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v33"></a><a href="#6v33"><sup>33</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v34"></a><a href="#6v34"><sup>34</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v35"></a><a href="#6v35"><sup>35</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v36"></a><a href="#6v36"><sup>36</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v37"></a><a href="#6v37"><sup>37</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v38"></a><a href="#6v38"><sup>38</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v39"></a><a href="#6v39"><sup>39</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v40"></a><a href="#6v40"><sup>40</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v41"></a><a href="#6v41"><sup>41</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v42"></a><a href="#6v42"><sup>42</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v43"></a><a href="#6v43"><sup>43</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v44"></a><a href="#6v44"><sup>44</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v45"></a><a href="#6v45"><sup>45</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v46"></a><a href="#6v46"><sup>46</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v47"></a><a href="#6v47"><sup>47</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v48"></a><a href="#6v48"><sup>48</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v49"></a><a href="#6v49"><sup>49</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v50"></a><a href="#6v50"><sup>50</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v51"></a><a href="#6v51"><sup>51</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v52"></a><a href="#6v52"><sup>52</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v53"></a><a href="#6v53"><sup>53</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v54"></a><a href="#6v54"><sup>54</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v55"></a><a href="#6v55"><sup>55</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v56"></a><a href="#6v56"><sup>56</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v57"></a><a href="#6v57"><sup>57</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v58"></a><a href="#6v58"><sup>58</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v59"></a><a href="#6v59"><sup>59</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v60"></a><a href="#6v60"><sup>60</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v61"></a><a href="#6v61"><sup>61</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v62"></a><a href="#6v62"><sup>62</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v63"></a><a href="#6v63"><sup>63</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v64"></a><a href="#6v64"><sup>64</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v65"></a><a href="#6v65"><sup>65</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v66"></a><a href="#6v66"><sup>66</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v67"></a><a href="#6v67"><sup>67</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v68"></a><a href="#6v68"><sup>68</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v69"></a><a href="#6v69"><sup>69</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v70"></a><a href="#6v70"><sup>70</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v71"></a><a href="#6v71"><sup>71</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v72"></a><a href="#6v72"><sup>72</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v73"></a><a href="#6v73"><sup>73</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v74"></a><a href="#6v74"><sup>74</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v75"></a><a href="#6v75"><sup>75</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v76"></a><a href="#6v76"><sup>76</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v77"></a><a href="#6v77"><sup>77</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v78"></a><a href="#6v78"><sup>78</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v79"></a><a href="#6v79"><sup>79</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v80"></a><a href="#6v80"><sup>80</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v81"></a><a href="#6v81"><sup>81</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v82"></a><a href="#6v82"><sup>82</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v83"></a><a href="#6v83"><sup>83</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v84"></a><a href="#6v84"><sup>84</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v85"></a><a href="#6v85"><sup>85</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v86"></a><a href="#6v86"><sup>86</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v87"></a><a href="#6v87"><sup>87</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v88"></a><a href="#6v88"><sup>88</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v89"></a><a href="#6v89"><sup>89</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v90"></a><a href="#6v90"><sup>90</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v91"></a><a href="#6v91"><sup>91</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v92"></a><a href="#6v92"><sup>92</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v93"></a><a href="#6v93"><sup>93</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v94"></a><a href="#6v94"><sup>94</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v95"></a><a href="#6v95"><sup>95</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v96"></a><a href="#6v96"><sup>96</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v97"></a><a href="#6v97"><sup>97</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v98"></a><a href="#6v98"><sup>98</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v99"></a><a href="#6v99"><sup>99</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v100"></a><a href="#6v100"><sup>100</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v101"></a><a href="#6v101"><sup>101</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v102"></a><a href="#6v102"><sup>102</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v103"></a><a href="#6v103"><sup>103</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v104"></a><a href="#6v104"><sup>104</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v105"></a><a href="#6v105"><sup>105</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v106"></a><a href="#6v106"><sup>106</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v107"></a><a href="#6v107"><sup>107</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v108"></a><a href="#6v108"><sup>108</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v109"></a><a href="#6v109"><sup>109</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v110"></a><a href="#6v110"><sup>110</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v111"></a><a href="#6v111"><sup>111</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v112"></a><a href="#6v112"><sup>112</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v113"></a><a href="#6v113"><sup>113</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v114"></a><a href="#6v114"><sup>114</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v115"></a><a href="#6v115"><sup>115</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v116"></a><a href="#6v116"><sup>116</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v117"></a><a href="#6v117"><sup>117</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v118"></a><a href="#6v118"><sup>118</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v119"></a><a href="#6v119"><sup>119</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v120"></a><a href="#6v120"><sup>120</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v121"></a><a href="#6v121"><sup>121</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v122"></a><a href="#6v122"><sup>122</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v123"></a><a href="#6v123"><sup>123</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v124"></a><a href="#6v124"><sup>124</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v125"></a><a href="#6v125"><sup>125</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v126"></a><a href="#6v126"><sup>126</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v127"></a><a href="#6v127"><sup>127</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v128"></a><a href="#6v128"><sup>128</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v129"></a><a href="#6v129"><sup>129</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v130"></a><a href="#6v130"><sup>130</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v131"></a><a href="#6v131"><sup>131</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v132"></a><a href="#6v132"><sup>132</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v133"></a><a href="#6v133"><sup>133</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v134"></a><a href="#6v134"><sup>134</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v135"></a><a href="#6v135"><sup>135</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v136"></a><a href="#6v136"><sup>136</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v137"></a><a href="#6v137"><sup>137</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v138"></a><a href="#6v138"><sup>138</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v139"></a><a href="#6v139"><sup>139</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v140"></a><a href="#6v140"><sup>140</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v141"></a><a href="#6v141"><sup>141</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v142"></a><a href="#6v142"><sup>142</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v143"></a><a href="#6v143"><sup>143</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v144"></a><a href="#6v144"><sup>144</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v145"></a><a href="#6v145"><sup>145</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v146"></a><a href="#6v146"><sup>146</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v147"></a><a href="#6v147"><sup>147</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v148"></a><a href="#6v148"><sup>148</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v149"></a><a href="#6v149"><sup>149</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v150"></a><a href="#6v150"><sup>150</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v151"></a><a href="#6v151"><sup>151</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v152"></a><a href="#6v152"><sup>152</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v153"></a><a href="#6v153"><sup>153</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v154"></a><a href="#6v154"><sup>154</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v155"></a><a href="#6v155"><sup>155</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v156"></a><a href="#6v156"><sup>156</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v157"></a><a href="#6v157"><sup>157</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v158"></a><a href="#6v158"><sup>158</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v159"></a><a href="#6v159"><sup>159</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v160"></a><a href="#6v160"><sup>160</sup></a> / <a name="fr6v161"></a><a href="#6v161"><sup>161</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v162"></a><a href="#6v162"><sup>162</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v163"></a><a href="#6v163"><sup>163</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v164"></a><a href="#6v164"><sup>164</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v165"></a><a href="#6v165"><sup>165</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v166"></a><a href="#6v166"><sup>166</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v167"></a><a href="#6v167"><sup>167</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v168"></a><a href="#6v168"><sup>168</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v169"></a><a href="#6v169"><sup>169</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v170"></a><a href="#6v170"><sup>170</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v171"></a><a href="#6v171"><sup>171</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v172"></a><a href="#6v172"><sup>172</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v173"></a><a href="#6v173"><sup>173</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v174"></a><a href="#6v174"><sup>174</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v175"></a><a href="#6v175"><sup>175</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v176"></a><a href="#6v176"><sup>176</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v177"></a><a href="#6v177"><sup>177</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v178"></a><a href="#6v178"><sup>178</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v179"></a><a href="#6v179"><sup>179</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v180"></a><a href="#6v180"><sup>180</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6v181"></a><a href="#6v181"><sup>181</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v182"></a><a href="#6v182"><sup>182</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v183"></a><a href="#6v183"><sup>183</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v184"></a><a href="#6v184"><sup>184</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v185"></a><a href="#6v185"><sup>185</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v186"></a><a href="#6v186"><sup>186</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v187"></a><a href="#6v187"><sup>187</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v188"></a><a href="#6v188"><sup>188</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v189"></a><a href="#6v189"><sup>189</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v190"></a><a href="#6v190"><sup>190</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6v191"></a><a href="#6v191"><sup>191</sup></a><br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6E"></a><a href="#6E"><sup>E</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6F"></a><a href="#6F"><sup>F</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6G"></a><a href="#6G"><sup>G</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6H"></a><a href="#6H"><sup>H</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6J"></a><a href="#6J"><sup>J</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr6K"></a><a href="#6K"><sup>K</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6L"></a><a href="#6L"><sup>L</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6M"></a><a href="#6M"><sup>M</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6N"></a><a href="#6N"><sup>N</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6P"></a><a href="#6P"><sup>P</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Q"></a><a href="#6Q"><sup>Q</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6R"></a><a href="#6R"><sup>R</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6S"></a><a href="#6S"><sup>S</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6T"></a><a href="#6T"><sup>T</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6U"></a><a href="#6U"><sup>U</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6V"></a><a href="#6V"><sup>V</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6W"></a><a href="#6W"><sup>W</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6X"></a><a href="#6X"><sup>X</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Y"></a><a href="#6Y"><sup>Y</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Z"></a><a href="#6Z"><sup>Z</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Aa"></a><a href="#6Aa"><sup>Aa</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Bb"></a><a href="#6Bb"><sup>Bb</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Cc"></a><a href="#6Cc"><sup>Cc</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Dd"></a><a href="#6Dd"><sup>Dd</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Ee"></a><a href="#6Ee"><sup>Ee</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a href="#6Ee"><sup>Ee</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a href="#6Ee"><sup>Ee</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Ff"></a><a href="#6Ff"><sup>Ff</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Gg"></a><a href="#6Gg"><sup>Gg</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr6Hh"></a><a href="#6Hh"><sup>Hh</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +145<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +150<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +155<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +165<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +175<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +180<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +185<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +190<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +195<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +200<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +205<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +210<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +215<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +220<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +225<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +230<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +235<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +240<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +245<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +250<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +255<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +260<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +265<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +270<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +275<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +280<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +285<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +290<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +295<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +300<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +305<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +310<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +315<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +320<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +325<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +330<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +335<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +340<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +345<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +350<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +355<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +360<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +365<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +370<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +375<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +380<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +385<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +390<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +395<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +400<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +405<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +410<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +415<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +420<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +425<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +430<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +435<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +440<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +445<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +450<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +455<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +460<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +465<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +470<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +475<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +480<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +485<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +490<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +495<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +500<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +505<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +510<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +515<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +520<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +525<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +530<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +535<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +540<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +545<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +550<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +555<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +560<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +565<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +570<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +575<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +580<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +585<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +590<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +595<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +600<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +605<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +610<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +615<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +620<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +625<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +630<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +635<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +640<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +645<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +650<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +655<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +660<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +665<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +670</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="6v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... a spot of holy ground,<br> + By Pain and her sad family unfound,<br> + Sure, Nature's God that spot to man had given,<br> + Where murmuring rivers join the song of even;<br> + Where falls ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Where the resounding power of water shakes<br> + <br> + Where with loud voice the power of waters shakes </blockquote></td> + <td>1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And not unrecompensed the man shall roam,<br> + Who, to converse with Nature, quits his home,<br> + And plods o'er hills and vales his way forlorn,<br> + Wooing her various charms from eve to morn.<br> + <br> + Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam,<br> + Who at the call of summer quits his home,<br> + And plods through some far realm o'er vale and height,<br> + Though seeking only holiday delight; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> Lines 13 and 14 were introduced in 1827.<br> +<a href="#fr6v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>No sad vacuities<a href="#6i"><sup>i</sup></a> his heart annoy;—<br> + Blows not a Zephyr but it whispers joy;<br> + For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale;<br> + He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale;<br> + For him sod-seats ... <br> + <br> + Breathes not a zephyr but it whispers joy;<br> + For him the loneliest flowers their sweets exhale;<br> + He marks "the meanest note that swells the<a href="#6ii"><sup>ii</sup></a> gale;" </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And dear the green-sward to his velvet tread; </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Whilst ... </blockquote></td> + <td>Only in 1820.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... with kindest ray<br> + To light him shaken by his viewless way. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>With bashful fear no cottage children steal<br> + From him, a brother at the cottage meal, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing Care,<br> + Or desperate Love could lead a wanderer there.<br><br> + + Much wondering in what fit of crazing care,<br> + Or desperate love, a wanderer came there. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v11"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 11:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Me, lured by hope her sorrows to remove,<br> + A heart that could not much itself approve,<br> + O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led,<br> + Her road elms rustling high above my head,<br> + Or through her truant pathways' native charms,<br> + By secret villages and lonely farms,<br> + To where the Alps ... <br> + <br> + ... could not much herself approve, <br> + <br> + ... lured by hope its sorrows to remove, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827<br> + <br> + 1832</td> +</tr> +</table> +The lines 46, 47, were expanded in the edition of 1836 from one line in +the editions of 1820-1832.<br> +<a href="#fr6v11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v12"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 12:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> I sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.<br> + Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe<br> + Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear?<br> + That breathed a death-like peace these woods around;<br> + The cloister startles ... <br> + <br> + Even now, emerging from the forest's gloom,<br> + I heave a sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.<br> + Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe<br> + Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear? </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v12">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v13"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 13:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>That breathed a death-like silence wide around,<br> + Broke only by the unvaried torrent's sound,<br> + Or prayer-bell by the dull cicada drown'd. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +The editions of 1827 and 1832 omit these lines.<br> +<a href="#fr6v13">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v14"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 14:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The cloister startles at the gleam of arms,<br> + And Blasphemy the shuddering fane alarms; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v14">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v15"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 15:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1793</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>That ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1827</td> +</tr> +</table> + +The edition of 1836 returns to the text of 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6v15">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v16"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 16:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And swells the groaning torrent with his tears. </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +In the editions 1815-1832 lines 61, 62 followed line 66.<br> +<a href="#fr6v16">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v17"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 17:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Nod the cloud-piercing pines their troubled heads, </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v17">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v18"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 18:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The cross with hideous laughter Demons mock,<br> + By angels planted on the aereal rock. <br><br> + + The cross, by angels on the aërial rock<br> + Planted, a flight of laughing demons mock. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1832</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v18">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v19"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 19:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... sound ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v19">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v20"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 20:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> To ringing team unknown ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v20">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v21"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 21:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Wild round the steeps the little pathway twines, </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v21">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v22"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 22:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The viewless lingerer ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v22">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v23"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 23:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Tracking the yellow sun from steep to steep,<br> + As up the opposing hills, with tortoise foot, they creep.<br><br> + + And track the yellow light ...<br><br> + + ... on naked steeps<br> + As up the opposing hill it slowly creeps. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + 1836<br> + <br> + <br> + C.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v23">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v24"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 24:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Here half a village shines, in gold arrayed,<br> + Bright as the moon; ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v24">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v25"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 25:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> From the dark sylvan roofs the restless spire<br> + Inconstant glancing, mounts like springing fire. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v25">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v26"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 26:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... the waves ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v26">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v27"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 27:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Th' unwearied sweep of wood thy cliffs that scales;<br> + The never-ending waters of thy vales; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v27">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v28"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 28:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>Line 111 was previously three lines, thus:</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The cots, those dim religious groves embower,<br> + Or, under rocks that from the water tower<br> + Insinuated, sprinkling all the shore, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> +<br> +1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v28">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v29"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 29:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... his ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v29">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v30"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 30:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Whose flaccid sails in forms fantastic droop,<br> + Bright'ning the gloom where thick the forests stoop; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + Only in the editions 1815 to 1832.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v30">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v31"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 31:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... like swallows' nests that cleave on high; </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v31">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v32"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 32:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>While Evening's solemn bird melodious weeps,<br> + Heard, by star-spotted bays, beneath the steeps; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + Only in the editions of 1815 and 1820.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v32">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v33"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 33:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>—Thy lake, mid smoking woods, that blue and grey<br> + Gleams, streaked or dappled, hid from morning's ray<br><br> + + As beautiful the flood where blue or grey<br> + Dappled, or streaked, as hid from morning's ray. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + C.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v33">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v34"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 34:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... to fold </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v34">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v35"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 35:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>From thickly-glittering spires the matin bell<br> + Calling the woodman from his desert cell,<br> + A summons to the sound of oars, that pass,<br> + Spotting the steaming deeps, to early mass;<br> + Slow swells the service o'er the water born,<br> + While fill each pause the ringing woods of morn.<br> + <br> + Calls forth the woodman with its cheerful knell. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + C.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v35">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v36"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 36:</span></a> This couplet was first added in 1845.<br> +<a href="#fr6v36">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v37"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 37:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Farewell those forms that in thy noon-tide shade,<br> + Rest, near their little plots of wheaten glade;<br> + <br> + Ye lovely forms that in the noontide shade<br> + Rest near their little plots of wheaten glade. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + C.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v37">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v38"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 38:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Those charms that bind ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v38">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v39"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 39:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And winds, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v39">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v40"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 40:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Yet arts are thine that soothe the unquiet heart,<br> + And smiles to Solitude and Want impart.<br> + I lov'd, 'mid thy most desart woods astray,<br> + With pensive step to measure my slow way,<br> + By lonely, silent cottage-doors to roam,<br> + The far-off peasant's day-deserted home. <br> + <br> + I loved by silent cottage-doors to roam,<br> + The far-off peasant's day-deserted home; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +These two lines take the place of the second and third couplets of the +1820 text quoted above.<br> +<a href="#fr6v40">return</a><br><br> +<br> +<a name="6v41"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 41:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Once did I pierce to where a cabin stood;<br> + The red-breast peace had buried it in wood,<br> + <br> + And once I pierced the mazes of a wood,<br> + Where, far from public haunt, a cabin stood; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v41">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v42"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 42:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> There, by the door a hoary-headed Sire<br> + Touched with his withered hand an ancient lyre; </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v42">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v43"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 43:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>This and the following line were expanded from:</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Beneath an old-grey oak, as violets lie, </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v43">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v44"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 44:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... joined the holy sound; </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v44">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v45"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 45:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>While ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v45">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v46"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 46:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Bend o'er th' abyss, the else impervious gloom<br> + <br> + Hang o'er th' abyss:— ... <br> + <br> + ... the abyss:— ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820<br> + <br> + 1827<br> + <br> + 1832</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v46">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v47"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 47:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Freshening the waste of sand with shades and springs.<br> + —<i>She</i>, solitary, through the desart drear<br> + Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear.<br> + <br> + By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here,<br> + Companionless, or hand in hand with fear;<br> + Lo! where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock,<br> + A cowering shape half-seen through curling smoke. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + MS.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v47">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v48"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 48:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The Grison gypsey here her tent hath placed,<br> + Sole human tenant of the piny waste;<br> + Her tawny skin, dark eyes, and glossy locks,<br> + Bend o'er the smoke that curls beneath the rocks<a href="#6iii"><sup>iii</sup></a>. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v48">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v49"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 49:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>Lines 179-185 were substituted in 1845 for:</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>A giant moan along the forest swells<br> + Protracted, and the twilight storm foretels,<br> + And, ruining from the cliffs, their deafening load<br> + Tumbles,—the wildering Thunder slips abroad;<br> + On the high summits Darkness comes and goes,<br> + Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows;<br> + The torrent, traversed by the lustre broad,<br> + Starts like a horse beside the flashing road;<br> + In the roofed bridge, at that terrific hour,<br> + She seeks a shelter from the battering show'r.<br> + —Fierce comes the river down; the crashing wood<br> + Gives way, and half it's pines torment the flood;<br> + <a href="#6iv"><sup>iv</sup></a>Fearful, <a name="fr6iv">beneath</a>, the Water-spirits call,<br> + And the bridge vibrates, tottering to its fall. <br> + <br> + When rueful moans along the forest swell<br> + Protracted, and the twilight storm foretel,<br> + And, headlong from the cliffs, a deafening load<br> + Tumbles,—and wildering thunder slips abroad;<br> + When on the summits Darkness comes and goes,<br> + Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows;<br> + And the fierce torrent, from the lustre broad,<br> + Starts, like a horse beside the flashing road—<br> + She seeks a covert from the battering shower<br> + In the roofed bridge; the bridge, in that dread hour,<br> + Itself all quaking at the torrent's power. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v49">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v50"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 50:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845 <i>Lines 186-195 were substituted in 1845 for:</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> —Heavy, and dull, and cloudy is the night;<br> + No star supplies the comfort of it's light,<br> + Glimmer the dim-lit Alps, dilated, round,<br> + <a name="fr6s1">And</a> one sole light shifts in the vale profound<a href="#f6s1"><sup>1</sup></a>;<br> + While<a href="#f6s2"><sup>2</sup></a>, opposite, the waning moon hangs still,<br> + And red, above her<a href="#f6s3"><sup>3</sup></a> melancholy hill.<br> + By the deep quiet gloom appalled, she sighs,<a href="#f6s4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> + Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes.<br> + She hears, upon the mountain forest's brow,<br> + The death-dog, howling loud and long, below;<br> + —Breaking th' ascending roar of desert floods,<br> + And <a name="fr6s5">insect</a> buzz, that stuns the sultry woods<a href="#f6s5"><sup>5</sup></a>,<br> + On viewless fingers<a href="#f6s6"><sup>6</sup></a> counts the valley-clock,<br> + Followed by drowsy crow of midnight cock.<br> + —Bursts from the troubled larch's giant boughs<br> + The <a name="fr6s7">pie</a>, and, chattering, breaks the night's repose<a href="#f6s7"><sup>7</sup></a>.<br> + The dry leaves stir as with the serpent's walk,<br> + And, far beneath, Banditti voices talk;<br> + <a name="fr6s8">Behind</a> her hill<a href="#f6s8"><sup>8</sup></a>, the Moon, all crimson, rides,<br> + And his red eyes the slinking Water hides.<br> + —Vexed by the darkness, from the piny gulf<br> + <a name="fr6s9">Ascending</a>, nearer howls the famished wolf<a href="#f6s9"><sup>9</sup></a>,<br> + While thro' the stillness scatters wild dismay<br> + Her babe's small cry, that leads him to his prey. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br><br> + <br> + + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v50">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v51"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 51:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Now, passing Urseren's open vale serene,<br> + Her quiet streams, and hills of downy green,<br> + Plunge with the Russ embrowned by Terror's breath,<br> + Where danger roofs the narrow walks of death;<br> + <br> + Plunge where the Reuss with fearless might has rent<br> + His headlong way along a dark descent. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + MS.</td> +</tr> +</table> +In the edition of 1836 these two couplets of 1815 were compressed into +one, and in that edition lines 200-201 preceded lines 198-199. They were +transposed in 1840.<br> +<a href="#fr6v51">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v52"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 52:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>By floods, that, thundering from their dizzy height,<br> + Swell more gigantic on the stedfast sight;<br> + Black drizzling crags, that beaten by the din,<br> + Vibrate, as if a voice complained within;<br> + Bare steeps, where Desolation stalks afraid,<br> + Unstedfast, by a blasted yew unstayed;<br> + By cells whose image, trembling as he prays,<br> + Awe-struck, the kneeling peasant scarce surveys;<br> + Loose hanging rocks the Day's bless'd eye that hide,<br> + And crosses reared to Death on every side,<br> + Which with cold kiss Devotion planted near,<br> + And bending water'd with the human tear;<br> + That faded "silent" from her upward eye,<br> + Unmoved with each rude form of Danger nigh, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v52">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v53"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 53:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>On as we move a softer prospect opes,<br> + Calm huts, and lawns between, and sylvan slopes. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v53">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v54"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 54:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>While mists, suspended on the expiring gale,<br> + Moveless o'er-hang the deep secluded vale, <br> + <br> + Where mists,<br> + <br> + Where mists suspended on the evening gale, <br> + Spread roof-like o'er a deep secluded vale, <br><br> + + Given to clear view beneath a hoary veil<br> + Of mists suspended on the evening gale. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + 1836<br> + <br> + <br> + C.<br> + <br> + <br> + MS.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v54">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> + +<a name="6v55"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 55:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The beams of evening, slipping soft between,<br> + Light up of tranquil joy a sober scene.<br> + <br> + Gently illuminate a sober scene; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v55">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v56"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 56:</span></a> In the editions 1815-1832 ll. 214, 215 follow, instead of +preceding, ll. 216-219.<br> +<a href="#fr6v56">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v57"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 57:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>On the low brown wood-huts delighted sleep<br> + Along the brightened gloom reposing deep. <br> + <br> + Here, on the brown wood-cottages they sleep,<br> + There, over lawns and sloping woodlands creep. <br> + <br> + There, over lawn or sloping pasture creep. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836<br> + <br> + C.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v57">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v58"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 58:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Winding its dark-green wood and emerald glade,<br> + The still vale lengthens underneath the shade; <br> + While in soft gloom the scattering bowers recede,<br> + Green dewy lights adorn the freshened mead, <br> + <br> + Winding its darksome wood and emerald glade,<br> + The still vale lengthens underneath the shade<br> + Of low-hung vapour: on the freshened mead<br> + The green light sparkles;—the dim bowers recede. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v58">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v59"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 59:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... drizzling ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v59">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v60"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 60:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... my soul awake,<br> + Lo! Fear looks silent down on Uri's lake;<br> + Where by the unpathwayed margin still and dread<br> + Was never heard the plodding peasant's tread: </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v60">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v61"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 61:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Tower like a wall the naked rocks, or reach<br> + Far o'er the secret water dark with beech; <br> + <br> + Tower-like rise up the naked rocks, or stretch </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v61">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v62"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 62:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>More high, to where creation seems to end,<br> + Shade above shade the desert pines ascend.<br> + <br> + ... the aërial pines ... <br> + <br> + Shade above shade, the aërial pines ascend,<br> + Nor stop but where creation seems to end. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v62">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v63"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 63:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845 <i>(Compressing eight lines into four:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Yet, with his infants, man undaunted creeps<br> + And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps,<br> + Where'er, below, amid the savage scene<br> + Peeps out a little speck of smiling green.<br> + A garden-plot the mountain air perfumes,<br> + Mid the dark pines a little orchard blooms;<br> + A zig-zag path from the domestic skiff,<br> + Threading the painful crag, surmounts the cliff. <br> + <br> + ... wood-cabin on the steeps.<br> + <br> + ... the desert air perfumes, <br> + <br> + Thridding the painful crag, ... <br> + <br> + Yet, wheresoe'er amid the savage scene<br> + Peeps out a little spot of smiling green,<br> + Man with his babes undaunted thither creeps,<br> + And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps.<br> + A garden-plot ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1832<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v63">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v64"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 64:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> —Before those hermit doors, that never know<br> + <br> + —Before those lonesome doors, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v64">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v65"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 65:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The grassy seat beneath their casement shade<br> + The pilgrim's wistful eye hath never stayed. <br> + <br> + The shady porch ne'er offered a cool seat<br> + To pilgrims overpowered by summer's heat. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v65">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v67"></a><a name="6v66"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variants 66 & 67:</span></a> See <a href="#section31">Appendix III.</a>—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6v66">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v68"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 68:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845 <i>Lines 246 to 253 were previously:</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> —There, did the iron Genius not disdain<br> + The gentle Power that haunts the myrtle plain,<br> + There might the love-sick Maiden sit, and chide<br> + Th' insuperable rocks and severing tide,<br> + There watch at eve her Lover's sun-gilt sail<br> + Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale,<br> + There list at midnight, till is heard no more,<br> + Below, the echo of his parting oar,<br> + There <a name="fr6vv">hang</a> in fear, when growls the frozen stream<a href="#6v"><sup>v</sup></a>,<br> + To guide his dangerous tread, the taper's gleam. <br> + <br> + There might the maiden chide, in love-sick mood,<br> + The insuperable rocks and severing flood; <br> + <br> + At midnight listen till his parting oar,<br> + And its last echo, can be heard no more. <br> + <br> + Yet tender thoughts dwell there, no solitude<br> + Hath power youth's natural feelings to exclude;<br> + There doth the maiden watch her lover's sail<br> + Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + C.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v68">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v69"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 69:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Mid stormy vapours ever driving by,<br> + Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry; <br> + <br> + Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry,<br> + 'Mid stormy vapours ever driving by, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v69">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v70"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 70:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Where hardly given the hopeless waste to cheer,<br> + Denied the bread of life the foodful ear, <br> + <br> + Hovering o'er rugged wastes too bleak to rear<br> + That common growth of earth, the foodful ear; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v70">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v71"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 71:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Dwindles the pear on autumn's latest spray,<br> + And apple sickens pale in summer's ray; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v71">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v72"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 72:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Ev'n here Content has fixed her smiling reign </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v72">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v73"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 73:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And often grasps her sword, and often eyes:<br> + Her crest a bough of Winter's bleakest pine,<br> + Strange "weeds" and alpine plants her helm entwine,<br> + And wildly-pausing oft she hangs aghast,<br> + While thrills the "Spartan fife" between the blast. <br> + <br> + Flowers of the loftiest Alps her helm entwine;<br> + And, wildly pausing, oft she hangs aghast,<br> + As thrills ... <br> + <br> + And oft at Fancy's call she stands aghast,<br> + As if some old Swiss air had checked her haste,<br> + Or thrill of Spartan fife were caught between the blast. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + C.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v73">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v74"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 74:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> 'Tis storm; and, hid in mist from hour to hour, </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v74">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v75"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 75:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Glances the fire-clad eagle's wheeling form;<br><br> + + ... glorious form; </blockquote></td> + <td>1815<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v75">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v76"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 76:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold, <br> + <br> + Those eastern cliffs ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v76">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v77"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 77:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... strives to shun<br> + The west ... <br> + <br> + ... tries to shun<br> + The <i>west</i>, ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v77">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v78"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 78:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Where in a mighty crucible expire<br> + The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v78">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v79"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 79:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>While burn in his full eyes the glorious tears. </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v79">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v80"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 80:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Exalt, and agitate ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v80">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v81"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 81:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>On Zutphen's plain; or where, with soften'd gaze,<br> + The old grey stones the plaided chief surveys;<br> + Can guess the high resolve, the cherished pain<br> + Of him whom passion rivets to the plain, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v81">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v82"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 82:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And watch, from pike to pike, amid the sky<br> + Small as a bird the chamois-chaser fly, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v82">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v83"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 83:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Thro' worlds where Life, and Sound, and Motion sleep;<br> + Where Silence still her death-like reign extends,<br> + Save when the startling cliff unfrequent rends:<br> + In the deep snow the mighty ruin drowned,<br> + Mocks the dull ear ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v83">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v84"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 84:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> While the near moon, that coasts the vast profound,<br> + Wheels pale and silent her diminished round, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v84">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v85"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 85:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Flying more fleet than vision can pursue! </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v85">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v86"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 86:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Then with Despair's whole weight his spirits sink,<br> + No bread to feed him, and the snow his drink,<br> + While, ere his eyes ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v86">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v87"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 87:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Hence shall we turn where, heard with fear afar, </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v87">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v88"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 88:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... from ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v88">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v89"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 89:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Nought but the herds that pasturing upward creep,<br> + Hung dim-discover'd from the dangerous steep,<br> + Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high<br> + Suspended, mid the quiet of the sky. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v89">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v90"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 90:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Broke only by the melancholy sound </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v90">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v91"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 91:</span></a> The two previous lines were added in 1836.<br> +<a href="#fr6v91">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v92"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 92:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1832</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Save that, the stranger seen below, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v92">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v93"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 93:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>When warm from myrtle bays and tranquil seas,<br> + Comes on, to whisper hope, the vernal breeze,<br> + When hums the mountain bee in May's glad ear,<br> + And emerald isles to spot the heights appear, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v93">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v94"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 94:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>When fragrant scents beneath th' enchanted tread<br> + Spring up, his choicest wealth around him spread, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + Inserted in the editions 1815 to 1832.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v94">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v95"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 95:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The pastoral Swiss begins the cliffs to scale,<br> + To silence leaving the deserted vale, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v95">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v96"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 96:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Mounts, where the verdure leads, from stage to stage,<br> + And pastures on, as in the Patriarch's age: </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v96">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v97"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 97:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> O'er lofty heights serene and still they go, </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v97">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v98"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 98:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>(Omitting the first of the two following couplets:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>They cross the chasmy torrent's foam-lit bed,<br> + Rocked on the dizzy larch's narrow tread;<br> + Or steal beneath loose mountains, half deterr'd,<br> + That sigh and shudder to the lowing herd. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v98">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v99"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 99:</span></a> This couplet was added in the edition of 1836.<br> +<a href="#fr6v99">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v100"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 100:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>Lines 380-385 were previously:</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>—I see him, up the midway cliff he creeps<br> + To where a scanty knot of verdure peeps,<br> + Thence down the steep a pile of grass he throws,<br> + The fodder of his herds in winter snows. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v100">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v101"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 101:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... to what tradition hoar<br> + Transmits of days more blest ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v101">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v102"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 102:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Then Summer lengthened out his season bland,<br> + And with rock-honey flowed the happy land.<br><br> + + Then Summer lingered long; and honey flowed<br> + Out of the rocks, the wild bees' safe abode. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v102">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v103"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 103:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Continual fountains ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v103">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v104"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 104:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Nor Hunger forced the herds from pastures bare<br> + For scanty food the treacherous cliffs to dare. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v104">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v105"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 105:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Then the milk-thistle bade those herds demand<br> + Three times a day the pail and welcome hand. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v105">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v106"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 106:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Thus does the father to his sons relate,<br> + On the lone mountain top, their changed estate.</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v106">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v107"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 107:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>But human vices have provoked the rod </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +In the editions 1815-1832 this and the following line preceded lines +399-400. They took their final position in the edition of 1836.<br> +<a href="#fr6v107">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v108"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 108:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... whose vales and mountains round </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v108">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v109"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 109:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>(Compressing eight lines into six:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... to awful silence bound.<br> + A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide<br> + And bottomless, divides the midway tide.<br> + Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear<br> + The pines that near the coast their summits rear;<br> + Of cabins, woods, and lawns a pleasant shore<br> + Bounds calm and clear the chaps still and hoar;<br> + Loud thro' that midway gulf ascending, sound<br> + Unnumber'd streams with hollow roar profound: </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v109">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v110"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 110:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Mount thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds,<br> + And talking voices, and the low of herds,<br> + The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell,<br> + And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v110">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v111"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 111:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Think not, suspended from the cliff on high,<br> + He looks below with undelighted eye. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v111">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v112"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 112:</span></a> This couplet was added in the edition of 1836.<br> +<a href="#fr6v112">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v113"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 113:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> —No vulgar joy is his, at even tide<br> + Stretch'd on the scented mountain's purple side. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v113">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v114"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 114:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>While Hope, that ceaseless leans on Pleasure's urn, </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v114">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v115"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 115:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... by vestal ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v115">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v116"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 116:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... native ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v116">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v117"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 117:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1832</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>He marches with his flute, his book, and sword; </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v117">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v118"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 118:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... wonderous ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v118">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v119"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 119:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1840</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... glorious ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v119">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v120"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 120:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Uncertain thro' his fierce uncultured soul<br> + Like lighted tempests troubled transports roll;<br> + To viewless realms his Spirit towers amain, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v120">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v121"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 121:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And oft, when pass'd that solemn vision by, </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v121">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v122"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 122:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Where the dread peal ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v122">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v123"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 123:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>—When the Sun bids the gorgeous scene farewell,<br> + Alps overlooking Alps their state up-swell;<br> + Huge Pikes of Darkness named, of Fear and Storms,<br> + Lift, all serene, their still, illumined forms, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v123">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v124"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 124:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>—Great joy, by horror tam'd, dilates his heart,<br> + And the near heavens their own delights impart. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +In the editions 1820-1832 this couplet preceded the four lines above +quoted: +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Fear in his breast with holy love unites,<br> + And the near heavens impart their own delights.</blockquote></td> + <td>1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v124">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v125"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 125:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>That hut which from the hills his eyes employs<br> + So oft, the central point of all his joys, <br> + <br> + ... his eye ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815<br> + <br> + 1832</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v125">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v126"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 126:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And as a swift, by tender cares opprest,<br> + Peeps often ere she dart into her nest,<br> + So to the untrodden floor, where round him looks<br> + His father, helpless as the babe he rocks,<br> + Oft he descends to nurse the brother pair, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v126">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v127"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 127:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Where, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v127">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v128"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 128:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Rush down the living rocks with whirlwind sound. </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v128">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v129"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 129:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Content ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v129">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v130"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 130:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... consecrate ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v130">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v131"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 131:</span></a> <i> The following lines were erased in 1836, and in all +subsequent editions:</i><br> + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> "Here," cried a swain, whose venerable head<br> + Bloom'd with the snow-drops of Man's narrow bed,<br> + Last night, while by his dying fire, as clos'd<br> + The day, in luxury my limbs repos'd,<br> + Here Penury oft from misery's mount will guide<br> + Ev'n to the summer door his icy tide,<br> + And here the avalanche of Death destroy<br> + The little cottage of domestic Joy. <br><br> + + ... a Swain, upon whose hoary head<br> + The "blossoms of the grave" were thinly spread, <br><br> + + ... a thoughtful Swain, upon whose head </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1793<br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> + <a href="#fr6v131">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v132"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 132:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> But, ah! the unwilling mind ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v132">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v133"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 133:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The churlish gales, that unremitting blow<br> + Cold from necessity's continual snow, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v133">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v134"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 134:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> To us ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v134">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v135"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 135:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... a never-ceasing ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v135">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v136"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 136:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The father, as his sons of strength become<br> + To pay the filial debt, for food to roam, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v136">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v137"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 137:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>From his bare nest ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v137">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v138"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 138:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>His last dread pleasure! watches ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v138">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v139"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 139:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>When the poor heart has all its joys resigned,<br> + Why does their sad remembrance cleave behind? </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v139">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v140"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 140:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell,<br> + Unlocking tender thought's "memorial cell";<br> + Past pleasures are transformed to mortal pains<br> + And poison spreads along the listener's veins. <br> + <br> + While poison ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v140">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v141"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 141:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume! </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v141">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v142"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 142:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Soft .. </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v142">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v143"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 143:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Soon flies the little joy to man allowed,<br> + And grief before him travels like a cloud: </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v143">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v144"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 144:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>(Expanding four lines into six:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>For come Diseases on, and Penury's rage,<br> + Labour, and Care, and Pain, and dismal Age,<br> + Till, Hope-deserted, long in vain his breath<br> + Implores the dreadful untried sleep of Death. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v144">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v145"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 145:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> A Temple stands; which holds an awful shrine, </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v145">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v146"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 146:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Pale, dreadful faces round the Shrine appear,</blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v146">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v147"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 147:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>After this line the editions of 1815-1832 have the following +couplet:</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>While strives a secret Power to hush the crowd,<br> + Pain's wild rebellious burst proclaims her rights aloud </blockquote></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<i>and this is followed by lines 545-6 of the final text.</i><br> +<a href="#fr6v147">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v148"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 148:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>From 1815 to 1832, the following two couplets followed line 546. <br> + The +first of these was withdrawn in 1836.</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torment meet,<br> + Dire clap of hands, distracted chafe of feet;<br> + While loud and dull ascends the weeping cry,<br> + Surely in other thoughts contempt may die. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v148">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v149"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 149:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> —The tall Sun, tiptoe ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v149">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v150"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 150:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> At such an hour there are who love to stray,<br> + And meet the advancing Pilgrims ere the day<br> + <br> + Now let us meet the Pilgrims ere the day<br> + Close on the remnant of their weary way; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v150">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v151"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 151:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>For ye are drawing tow'rd that sacred floor,<br> + Where the charmed worm of pain shall gnaw no more.<br> + <br> + While they are drawing toward the sacred floor </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v151">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v152"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 152:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... for you ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v152">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v153"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 153:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> —Now with a tearful kiss each other greet,<br> + Nor longer naked be your toil-worn feet,<br> + <br> + There some with tearful kiss each other greet,<br> + And some, with reverence, wash their toil-worn feet. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v153">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v154"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 154:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Yes I will see you when you first behold<br> + <br> + ... ye ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v154">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v155"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 155:</span></a> This couplet was added in 1836.<br> +<a href="#fr6v155">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v156"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 156:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... the hands ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v156">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v157"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 157:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Last let us turn to where Chamouny shields, </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v157">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> + +<a name="6v158"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 158:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Bosomed in gloomy woods, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v158">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v159"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 159:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fann'd,<br> + Here all the Seasons revel hand in hand. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v159">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v160"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 160:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> —Red stream the cottage-lights; the landscape fades,<br> + Erroneous wavering mid the twilight shades. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + Inserted in the editions 1820 to 1832.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v160">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v161"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 161:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Alone ascends that Mountain named of white,<br> + <br> + Alone ascends that Hill of matchless height, </blockquote></td> + <td>1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v161">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v162"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 162:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... amid ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v162">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v163"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 163:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Mysterious ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v163">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v164"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 164:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... 'mid ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v164">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v165"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 165:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>At such an hour I heaved a pensive sigh,<br> + When roared the sullen Arve in anger by, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v165">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v166"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 166:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... delicious ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v166">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v167"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 167:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Hard lot!—for no Italian arts are thine<br> + To cheat, or chear, to soften, or refine.<br> +<br> + To soothe or cheer, ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v167">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v168"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 168:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Beloved Freedom! were it mine to stray,<br> + With shrill winds roaring ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v168">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v169"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 169:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>O'er ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v169">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v170"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 170:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>(Compressing four lines into two:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... o'er Lugano blows;<br> + In the wide ranges of many a varied round,<br> + Fleet as my passage was, I still have found<br> + That where proud courts their blaze of gems display,<br> + The lilies of domestic joy decay,<br> + <br> + That where despotic courts their gems display, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v170">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v171"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 171:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>In thy dear ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v171">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v172"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 172:</span></a> The previous three lines were added in the edition of 1836.<br> +<a href="#fr6v172">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v173"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 173:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The casement's shed more luscious woodbine binds,<br> + And to the door a neater pathway winds; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v173">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v174"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 174:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>(Compressing six lines into two:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>At early morn, the careful housewife, led<br> + To cull her dinner from its garden bed,<br> + Of weedless herbs a healthier prospect sees,<br> + While hum with busier joy her happy bees;<br> + In brighter rows her table wealth aspires,<br> + And laugh with merrier blaze her evening fires; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v174">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v175"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 175:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Her infants' cheeks with fresher roses glow,<br> + And wilder graces sport around their brow; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v175">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v176"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 176:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>(Compressing four lines into two:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>By clearer taper lit, a cleanlier board<br> + Receives at supper hour her tempting hoard;<br> + The chamber hearth with fresher boughs is spread,<br> + And whiter is the hospitable bed. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v176">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v177"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 177:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845 <i>(Compressing four lines into two:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And oh, fair France! though now along the shade<br> + Where erst at will the grey-clad peasant strayed,<br> + Gleam war's discordant garments through the trees,<br> + And the red banner mocks the froward breeze; <br> + <br> + ... discordant vestments through the trees,<br> + And the red banner fluctuates in the breeze;<br> + <br> + ... though in the rural shade<br> + Where at his will, so late, the grey-clad peasant strayed,<br> + Now, clothed in war's discordant garb, he sees<br> + The three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1827<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v177">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v178"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 178:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Though now no more thy maids their voices suit<br> + To the low-warbled breath of twilight lute,<br> + And, heard the pausing village hum between,<br> + No solemn songstress lull the fading green, <br> + <br> + Though martial songs have banish'd songs of love,<br> + And nightingales forsake the village grove, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +(Compressing the four lines of 1820 into two.)<br> +<a href="#fr6v178">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v179"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 179:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>While, as Night bids the startling uproar die,<br> + Sole sound, the Sourd renews his mournful cry! </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v179">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v180"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 180:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Chasing those long long dreams, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v180">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v181"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 181:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... fainter pang ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v181">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v182"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 182:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>A more majestic tide<a href="#6vi"><sup>vi</sup></a> the water roll'd,<br> + And glowed the sun-gilt groves in richer gold. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v182">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v183"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 183:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>(Compressing six lines into four:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> —Though Liberty shall soon, indignant, raise<br> + Red on the hills his beacon's comet blaze;<br> + Bid from on high his lonely cannon sound,<br> + And on ten thousand hearths his shout rebound;<br> + His larum-bell from village-tower to tower<br> + Swing on the astounded ear its dull undying roar; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v183">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v184"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 184:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Yet, yet rejoice, though Pride's perverted ire<br> + Rouze Hell's own aid, and wrap thy hills on fire!<br> + Lo! from the innocuous flames, a lovely birth,<br> + With its own Virtues springs another earth: </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v184">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v185"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 185:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>Lines 646-651 were previously:</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Nature, as in her prime, her virgin reign<br> + Begins, and Love and Truth compose her train;<br> + While, with a pulseless hand, and stedfast gaze,<br> + Unbreathing Justice her still beam surveys. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v185">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v186"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 186:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836 <i>(Expanding eight lines into nine:)</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Oh give, great God, to Freedom's waves to ride<br> + Sublime o'er Conquest, Avarice, and Pride,<br> + To sweep where Pleasure decks her guilty bowers<br> + And dark Oppression builds her thick-ribbed towers!<br> + —Give them, beneath their breast while gladness springs<br> + To brood the nations o'er with Nile-like wings;<br> + And grant that every sceptred Child of clay,<br> + Who cries, presumptuous, "here their tides shall stay," </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v186">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v187"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 187:</span></a> This couplet was added in 1836.<br> +<a href="#fr6v187">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v188"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 188:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Swept in their anger from the affrighted shore,<br> + With all his creatures sink—to rise no more! </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v188">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v189"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 189:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Be the dead load of mortal ills forgot! <br> + <br> + Be fear and joyful hope alike forgot </blockquote></td> + <td>1820<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v189">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v190"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 190:</span></a> This couplet was added in 1827.<br> +<a href="#fr6v190">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v191"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 191:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Renewing, when the rosy summits glow<br> + At morn, our various journey, sad and slow.<br> + <br> + With lighter heart our course we may renew,<br> + The first whose footsteps print the mountain dew. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6v191">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="f6s1"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Variant 1:</span> </a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> A single taper in the vale profound<br> + Shifts, while the Alps dilated glimmer round; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1832</td> +</tr> +</table> + <a href="#fr6s1">return to variant</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f6s2"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Variant 2:</span> </a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> + <tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1832</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6s1">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f6s3"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Variant 3:</span> </a> + <table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... above yon ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6s1">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f6s4"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Variant 4:</span> </a> + <table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>By the deep gloom appalled, the Vagrant sighs, </blockquote></td> + <td>1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6s1">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f6s5"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Variant 5:</span> </a>This couplet was cancelled in the edition of 1827.<br> +<a href="#fr6s5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f6s6"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Variant 6:</span> </a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Or on her fingers ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6s5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> + +<a name="f6s7"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Variant 7:</span> </a> +This couplet was withdrawn in 1827.<br> +<a href="#fr6s7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f6s8"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Variant 8:</span> </a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Behind the hill ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6s8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f6s9"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Variant 9:</span> </a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Near and yet nearer, from the piny gulf<br> + Howls, by the darkness vexed, the famished wolf, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr6s9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="6A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836 +(p. 1).—Ed.<br> +<a href="#section6">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> There is something characteristic in Wordsworth's +addressing an intimate travelling companion in this way. S. T. C., or +Charles Lamb, would have written, as we do, "My dear Jones"; but +Wordsworth addressed his friend as "Dear Sir," and described his sister +as "a Young Lady," and as a "Female Friend."—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6B">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> In a small pocket copy of the <i>Orlando Furioso</i> of +Ariosto—now in the possession of the poet's grandson, Mr. Gordon +Wordsworth—of which the title-page is torn away, the following is +written on the first page, "My companion in the Alps with Jones. W. +Wordsworth:" also "W. W. to D. W." (He had given it to his sister +Dorothy.) On the last page is written, "I carried this Book with me in +my pedestrian tour in the Alps with Jones. W. Wordsworth." Dorothy +Wordsworth gave this interesting relic to Miss Quillinan, from whose +library it passed to that of its present owner.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6B">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this +edition (1840). <a href="#C-R1">See</a> p. 79.—Ed. <br> +<a href="#fr6D">return</a><br> +<a href="#7B">cross-reference: return to Footnote B to <i>Guilt and Sorrow</i></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6E"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote E:</span></a> See Addison's <i>Cato</i>, Act 1. Scene i., l. 171: + + <blockquote>Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.</blockquote> +Ed. +<a href="#fr6E">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6F"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote F:</span></a> The lyre of Memnon is reported to have emitted melancholy +or chearful tones, as it was touched by the sun's evening or morning +rays.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6F">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6G"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote G:</span></a> Compare Pope's <i>Windsor Forest</i>, ll. 129, 130; + + <blockquote> He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye:<br> + Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky:</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6G">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6H"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote H:</span></a> Alluding to crosses seen on the tops of the spiry rocks of +the Chartreuse, which have every appearance of being inaccessible.—W. +W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6H">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6J"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote J:</span></a> Compare Milton's <i>Ode on the Nativity</i>, stanza xx.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6J">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6K"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote K:</span></a> Names of rivers at the Chartreuse.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6K">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6L"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote L:</span></a> Name of one of the valleys of the Chartreuse.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6L">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6M"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote M:</span></a> The river along whose banks you descend in crossing the +Alps by the Simplon Pass—-W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6M">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6N"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote N:</span></a> Most of the bridges among the Alps are of wood and covered: +these bridges have a heavy appearance, and rather injure the effect of +the scenery in some places.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6N">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6P"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote P:</span></a> The Catholic religion prevails here; these cells are, as is +well known, very common in the Catholic countries, planted, like the +Roman tombs, along the roadside.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6P">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Q"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Q:</span></a> Crosses commemorative of the deaths of travellers by the +fall of snow and other accidents very common along this dreadful +road.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6Q">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6R"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote R:</span></a> The houses in the more retired Swiss valleys are all built +of wood.— W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6R">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6S"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote S:</span></a> See Burns's <i>Postscript</i> to his <i>Cry and Prayer</i>: + + <blockquote> And when he fa's,<br> +His latest draught o' breathin' leaves him<br> + In faint huzzas.</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6S">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6T"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote T:</span></a> For most of the images in the next sixteen verses I am +indebted to M. Raymond's interesting observations annexed to his +translation of Coxe's <i>Tour in Switzerland</i>.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6T">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6U"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote U:</span></a> The people of this Canton are supposed to be of a more +melancholy disposition than the other inhabitants of the Alps: this, if +true, may proceed from their living more secluded.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6U">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6V"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote V:</span></a> This picture is from the middle region of the Alps.—W. W. +1815. <i>Chalets</i> are summer huts for the Swiss herdsmen.—W. W. 1836.<br> +<a href="#fr6V">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6W"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote W:</span></a> Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind +through the trees.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<br> +It may be as well to add that, in this Scotch word, the "gh" is +pronounced; so that, as used colloquially, the word could never rhyme +with "blue."—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6W">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6X"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote X:</span></a> See Smollett's <i>Ode to Leven Water</i> in <i>Humphry Clinker</i>, +and compare <i>The Italian Itinerant and the Swiss Goatherd</i>, in +"Memorials of a Tour on the Continent" in 1820, part ii. 1.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6X">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Y"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Y:</span></a> Alluding to several battles which the Swiss in very small +numbers have gained over their oppressors the house of Austria; and in +particular, to one fought at Naeffels near Glarus, where three hundred +and thirty men defeated an army of between fifteen and twenty thousand +Austrians. Scattered over the valley are to be found eleven stones, with +this inscription, 1388, the year the battle was fought, marking out as I +was told upon the spot, the several places where the Austrians +attempting to make a stand were repulsed anew.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6Y">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Z"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Z:</span></a> As Schreck-Horn, the pike of terror. Wetter-Horn, the pike +of storms, etc., etc.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6Z">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Aa"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Aa:</span></a> The effect of the famous air called in French Ranz des +Vaches upon the Swiss troops.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6Aa">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Bb"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Bb:</span></a> This shrine is resorted to, from a hope of relief, by +multitudes, from every corner of the Catholick world, labouring under +mental or bodily afflictions.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6Bb">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Cc"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Cc:</span></a> Compare the Stanzas <i>Composed in one of the Catholic +Cantons</i>, in the "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent" (1820), which +refer to Einsiedlen.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6Cc">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Dd"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Dd:</span></a> Rude fountains built and covered with sheds for the +accommodation of the pilgrims, in their ascent of the mountain.—W. W. +1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6Dd">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Ee"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnotes Ee:</span></a> Compare Coleridge's <i>Hymn before Sun-rise, in the Vale of +Chamouni</i>: + + <blockquote> And you, ye five wild torrents fiercely glad!<br> + ...<br> + ... Who, with living flowers<br> + Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet?<br> + ...<br> + O struggling with the darkness all the night,<br> + And visited all night by troops of stars,<br> + ...<br> + The Arve and Arveiron at thy base<br> + Rave ceaselessly;</blockquote> + +Compare also Shelley's <i>Mont Blanc</i>.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6Ee">return to first footnote Ee</a><br> +<a href="#6Ff">cross-reference: return to Footnote Ff of this poem</a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Ff"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Ff:</span></a> See <a href="#6Ee">note</a> on Coleridge's <i>Hymn before Sun-rise</i> on previous +page.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6Ff">return</a><br><br> +<br> +<a name="6Gg"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Gg:</span></a> An insect so called, which emits a short, melancholy cry, +heard, at the close of the summer evenings, on the banks of the +Loire.—W. W, 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6Gg">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6Hh"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Hh:</span></a> The duties upon many parts of the French rivers were so +exorbitant that the poorer people, deprived of the benefit of water +carriage, were obliged to transport their goods by land.—W. W. 1793.<br> +<a href="#fr6Hh">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="6i"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote i:</span> </a>In the edition of 1815, the 28 lines, from "No sad +vacuities" to "a wanderer came there," are entitled "Pleasures of the +Pedestrian."—Ed.<br> +<a href="#6v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6ii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote ii:</span> </a>See <i>Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude</i>, l. +54: + + <blockquote>The meanest floweret of the vale,<br> + The simplest note that swells the gale.</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#6v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6iii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote iii:</span> </a>In the editions of 1820 to 1832 the four lines +beginning "The Grison gypsey," etc., precede those beginning "The mind +condemned," etc.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#6v48">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6iv"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote iv:</span> </a> In the edition of 1793 Wordsworth put the following +note: + + <blockquote>"Red came the river down, and loud, and oft<br> + The angry Spirit of the water shriek'd." </blockquote> + +(<b>Home's</b> <i>Douglas</i>.)<br> +<br> +See Act III. l. 86; or p. 32 in the edition of 1757.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6iv">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6v"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote v:</span> </a> This and the following line are only in the editions of +1815 and 1820.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr6vv">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="6vi"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote vi:</span> </a> Compare the Sonnet entitled <i>The Author's Voyage down +the Rhine, thirty years ago</i>, in the "Memorials of a Tour on the +Continent' in 1820, and the note appended to it.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#6v182">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section7">Guilt and Sorrow; or, Incidents upon Salisbury Plain</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1791-4.—Published as <i>The Female Vagrant</i> in "Lyrical Ballads" +in 1798, and as <i>Guilt and Sorrow</i> in the "Poems of Early and Late +Years," and in "Poems written in Youth," in 1845, and onward.</h4><br> + +<a href="#section7a">The Poem</a><br><br> + + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> + +<b>Advertisement, + +Prefixed To The First Edition Of This Poem, Published +In 1842.</b><br> + +<blockquote> Not less than one-third of the following poem, though it has from time + to time been altered in the expression, was published so far back as + the year 1798, under the title of <i>The Female Vagrant</i>. The extract is + of such length that an apology seems to be required for reprinting it + here; but it was necessary to restore it to its original position, or + the rest would have been unintelligible. The whole was written before + the close of the year 1794, and I will detail, rather as matter of + literary biography than for any other reason, the circumstances under + which it was produced.<br> +<br> + During the latter part of the summer of 1793, having passed a month in + the Isle of Wight, in view of the fleet which was then preparing for + sea off Portsmouth at the commencement of the war, I left the place + with melancholy forebodings. The American war was still fresh in + memory. The struggle which was beginning, and which many thought would + be brought to a speedy close by the irresistible arms of Great Britain + being added to those of the allies, I was assured in my own mind would + be of long continuance, and productive of distress and misery beyond + all possible calculation. This conviction was pressed upon me by + having been a witness, during a long residence in revolutionary + France, of the spirit which prevailed in that country. <a name="fr7A">After</a> leaving + the Isle of Wight, I spent two<a href="#7A"><sup>A</sup></a> days in wandering on foot over + Salisbury Plain, which, though cultivation was then widely spread + through parts of it, had upon the whole a still more impressive + appearance than it now retains.<br> +<br> + The monuments and traces of antiquity, scattered in abundance over + that region, led me unavoidably to compare what we know or guess of + those remote times with certain aspects of modern society, and with + calamities, principally those consequent upon war, to which, more than + other classes of men, the poor are subject. In those reflections, + joined with some particular facts that had come to my knowledge, the + following stanzas originated.<br> +<br> + In conclusion, to obviate some distraction in the minds of those who + are well acquainted with Salisbury Plain, it may be proper to say, + that of the features described as belonging to it, one or two are + taken from other desolate parts of England.</blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;"> Unwilling to be unnecessarily particular, I have assigned this poem + to the dates 1793 and '94; but, in fact, much of the Female Vagrant's + story was composed at least two years before. All that relates to her + sufferings as a sailor's wife in America, and her condition of mind + during her voyage home, were faithfully taken from the report made to + me of her own case by a friend who had been subjected to the same + trials, and affected in the same way. Mr. Coleridge, when I first + became acquainted with him, was so much impressed with this poem, that + it would have encouraged me to publish the whole as it then stood; but + the mariner's fate appeared to me so tragical, as to require a + treatment more subdued, and yet more strictly applicable in + expression, than I had at first given to it. This fault was corrected + nearly sixty years afterwards, when I determined to publish the whole. + It may be worth while to remark, that, though the incidents of this + attempt do only in a small degree produce each other, and it deviates + accordingly from the general rule by which narrative pieces ought to + be governed, it is not, therefore, wanting in continuous hold upon the + mind, or in unity, which is effected by the identity of moral interest + that places the two personages upon the same footing in the reader's + sympathies. My ramble over many parts of Salisbury Plain put me, as + mentioned in the preface, upon writing this poem, and left upon my + mind imaginative impressions, the force of which I have felt to this + day. From that district I proceeded to Bath, Bristol, and so on to the + banks of the Wye; where I took again to travelling on foot. In + remembrance of that part of my journey, which was in '93, I began the + verses,—'Five years have passed,' etc.—I. F.</span></blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + +<span style="color: #555555;">The foregoing is the Fenwick note to <i>Guilt and Sorrow</i>. The note to +<i>The Female Vagrant</i>,—which was the title under which one-third of the +longer poem appeared in all the complete editions prior to 1845—is as +follows.—Ed.</span><br><br> + + +<hr width="25%" align="left"> +<br> + <blockquote><span style="color: #663300;"> I find the date of this is placed in 1792, in contradiction, by + mistake, to what I have asserted in <i>Guilt and Sorrow</i>. The correct + date is 1793-4. The chief incidents of it, more particularly her + description of her feelings on the Atlantic, are taken from life.—I. + F.</span></blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">In <a name="C-R1">1798</a> there were thirty stanzas in this poem; in 1802, twenty-six; in +1815, fourteen; in 1820, twenty-five. Stanzas I. to XXII., XXXV. to +XXXVII., and LI. to LXXIV. occur only in the collected edition of 1842, +vol. vii. (also published as "Poems, chiefly of Early and Late Years"), +and in subsequent editions. Wordsworth placed <i>The Female Vagrant</i> among +his "Juvenile Pieces" from 1815 to 1832. In <a name="fr7B">1836</a>, he included it along +with <i>Descriptive Sketches</i> in his Table of Contents<a href="#7B"><sup>B</sup></a>; but as he +numbered it IV. in the text—the other poems belonging to the "Juvenile +Pieces" being numbered I. II. and III.—it is clear that he meant it to +remain in that class. The "Poems written in Youth," of the edition of +1845, include many others in addition to the "Juvenile Pieces" of +editions 1815 to 1836.—Ed.</span><br><br> + +<a href="#6D">cross-reference: return to Footnote D of <i>Descriptive Sketches</i></a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section7a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> + +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>stanza</i></td> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><span style="font-size: 150%;">I</span></td> + <td>A traveller on the skirt of Sarum's Plain<br> +Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;<br> +Stooping his gait, but not as if to gain<br> +Help from the staff he bore; for mien and air<br> +Were hardy, though his cheek seemed worn with care<br> +Both of the time to come, and time long fled:<br> +Down fell in straggling locks his thin grey hair;<br> +A coat he wore of military red<br> +But faded, and stuck o'er with many a patch and shred.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 5<br> + <br> + <br> + </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><span style="font-size: 150%;">II</span></td> + <td>While thus he journeyed, step by step led on,<br> +He saw and passed a stately inn, full sure<br> +That welcome in such house for him was none.<br> +No board inscribed the needy to allure<br> +Hung there, no bush proclaimed to old and poor<br> +And desolate, "Here you will find a friend!"<br> +The pendent grapes glittered above the door;—<br> +On he must pace, perchance 'till night descend,<br> +Where'er the dreary roads their bare white lines extend.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>10<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 15<br> + <br> + </td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">III</span></td> +<td>The gathering clouds grew red with stormy fire,<br> + In streaks diverging wide and mounting high; <br> + That inn he long had passed; the distant spire,<br> + Which oft as he looked back had fixed his eye,<br> + Was lost, though still he looked, in the blank sky.<br> + Perplexed and comfortless he gazed around,<br> + And scarce could any trace of man descry, <br> + Save cornfields stretched and stretching without bound;<br> + But where the sower dwelt was nowhere to be found.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 20<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 25<br> + </td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">IV</span></td> +<td>No tree was there, no meadow's pleasant green,<br> +No brook to wet his lip or soothe his ear;<br> +Long files of corn-stacks here and there were seen,<br> +But not one dwelling-place his heart to cheer.<br> +Some labourer, thought he, may perchance be near;<br> +And so he sent a feeble shout—in vain;<br> +No voice made answer, he could only hear<br> +Winds rustling over plots of unripe grain,<br> +Or whistling thro' thin grass along the unfurrowed plain.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 30<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 35</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">V</span></td> +<td>Long had he fancied each successive slope<br> +Concealed some cottage, whither he might turn<br> +And rest; but now along heaven's darkening cope<br> +The crows rushed by in eddies, homeward borne.<br> +Thus warned he sought some shepherd's spreading thorn<br> +Or hovel from the storm to shield his head,<br> +But sought in vain; for now, all wild, forlorn,<br> +And vacant, a huge waste around him spread;<br> +The wet cold ground, he feared, must be his only bed.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 40<br> + <br><br> + + <br> + <br> + 45</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VI</span></td> +<td>And be it so—for to the chill night shower<br> +And the sharp wind his head he oft hath bared;<br> +A Sailor he, who many a wretched hour<br> +Hath told; for, landing after labour hard,<br> +Full long endured in hope of just reward,<br> +He to an armèd fleet was forced away<br> +By seamen, who perhaps themselves had shared<br> +Like fate; was hurried off, a helpless prey,<br> +'Gainst all that in <i>his</i> heart, or theirs perhaps, said nay.</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v1"></a><a href="#7v1"><sup>1</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 50</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VII</span></td> +<td>For years the work of carnage did not cease.<br> +And death's dire aspect daily he surveyed,<br> +Death's minister; then came his glad release,<br> +And hope returned, and pleasure fondly made<br> +Her dwelling in his dreams. By Fancy's aid<br> +The happy husband flies, his arms to throw<br> +Round his wife's neck; the prize of victory laid<br> +In her full lap, he sees such sweet tears flow<br> +As if thenceforth nor pain nor trouble she could know.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>55<br> + <br> + <br> + <br><br> + + 60</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VIII</span></td> +<td>Vain hope! for fraud took all that he had earned.<br> +The lion roars and gluts his tawny brood<br> +Even in the desert's heart; but he, returned,<br> +Bears not to those he loves their needful food.<br> +His home approaching, but in such a mood<br> +That from his sight his children might have run,<br> +He met a traveller, robbed him, shed his blood;<br> +And when the miserable work was done<br> +He fled, a vagrant since, the murderer's fate to shun.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 65<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 70</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">IX</span></td> +<td>From that day forth no place to him could be<br> +So lonely, but that thence might come a pang<br> +Brought from without to inward misery.<br> +Now, as he plodded on, with sullen clang<br> +A sound of chains along the desert rang;<br> +He looked, and saw upon a gibbet high<br> +A human body that in irons swang,<br> +Uplifted by the tempest whirling by;<br> +And, hovering, round it often did a raven fly.</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7C"></a><a href="#7C"><sup>C</sup></a></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 75<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 80<br> + </td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">X</span></td> +<td>It was a spectacle which none might view,<br> +In spot so savage, but with shuddering pain;<br> +Nor only did for him at once renew<br> +All he had feared from man, but roused a train <br> +Of the mind's phantoms, horrible as vain.<br> +The stones, as if to cover him from day,<br> +Rolled at his back along the living plain;<br> +He fell, and without sense or motion lay;<br> +But, when the trance was gone, feebly pursued his way.</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v2"></a><a href="#7v2"><sup>2</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 85<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 90</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XI</span></td> +<td>As one whose brain habitual frensy fires<br> +Owes to the fit in which his soul hath tossed<br> +Profounder quiet, when the fit retires,<br> +Even so the dire phantasma which had crossed<br> +His sense, in sudden vacancy quite lost,<br> +Left his mind still as a deep evening stream.<br> +Nor, if accosted now, in thought engrossed,<br> +Moody, or inly troubled, would he seem<br> +To traveller who might talk of any casual theme.</td> + <td><a name="fr7v3"></a><a href="#7v3"><sup>3</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 95</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XII</span></td> +<td>Hurtle the clouds in deeper darkness piled,<br> +Gone is the raven timely rest to seek;<br> +He seemed the only creature in the wild<br> +On whom the elements their rage might wreak;<br> +Save that the bustard, of those regions bleak<br> +Shy tenant, seeing by the uncertain light<br> +A man there wandering, gave a mournful shriek,<br> +And half upon the ground, with strange affright,<br> +Forced hard against the wind a thick unwieldy flight.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>100<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 105</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XIII</span></td> +<td>All, all was cheerless to the horizon's bound;<br> +The weary eye—which, wheresoe'er it strays,<br> +Marks nothing but the red sun's setting round,<br> +Or on the earth strange lines, in former days<br> +Left by gigantic arms—at length surveys<br> +What seems an antique castle spreading wide;<br> +Hoary and naked are its walls, and raise<br> +Their brow sublime: in shelter there to bide<br> +He turned, while rain poured down smoking on every side.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 110<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 115</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XIV</span></td> +<td>Pile of Stone-henge! so proud to hint yet keep<br> +Thy secrets, thou that lov'st to stand and hear<br> +The Plain resounding to the whirlwind's sweep,<br> +Inmate of lonesome Nature's endless year;<br> +Even if thou saw'st the giant wicker rear<br> +For sacrifice its throngs of living men,<br> +Before thy face did ever wretch appear,<br> +Who in his heart had groaned with deadlier pain<br> +Than he who, tempest-driven, thy shelter now would gain?</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v4"></a><a href="#7v4"><sup>4</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 120<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 125</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XV</span></td> +<td>Within that fabric of mysterious form,<br> +Winds met in conflict, each by turns supreme;<br> +And, from the perilous ground dislodged, through storm<br> +And rain he wildered on, no moon to stream<br> +From gulf of parting clouds one friendly beam,<br> +Nor any friendly sound his footsteps led;<br> +Once did the lightning's faint disastrous gleam<br> +Disclose a naked guide-post's double head,<br> +Sight which tho' lost at once a gleam of pleasure shed.</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v5"></a><a href="#7v5"><sup>5</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 130<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 135</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XVI</span></td> +<td>No swinging sign-board creaked from cottage elm <br> +To stay his steps with faintness overcome;<br> +'Twas dark and void as ocean's watery realm<br> +Roaring with storms beneath night's starless gloom;<br> +No gipsy cower'd o'er fire of furze or broom; <br> +No labourer watched his red kiln glaring bright,<br> +Nor taper glimmered dim from sick man's room;<br> +Along the waste no line of mournful light<br> +From lamp of lonely toll-gate streamed athwart the night.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 140</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XVII</span></td> +<td>At length, though hid in clouds, the moon arose;<br> +The downs were visible—and now revealed<br> +A structure stands, which two bare slopes enclose.<br> +It was a spot, where, ancient vows fulfilled,<br> +Kind pious hands did to the Virgin build<br> +A lonely Spital, the belated swain <br> +From the night terrors of that waste to shield:<br> +But there no human being could remain,<br> +And now the walls are named the "Dead House" of the plain.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>145<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 150</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XVIII</span></td> +<td>Though he had little cause to love the abode<br> +Of man, or covet sight of mortal face,<br> +Yet when faint beams of light that ruin showed,<br> +How glad he was at length to find some trace<br> +Of human shelter in that dreary place.<br> +Till to his flock the early shepherd goes,<br> +Here shall much-needed sleep his frame embrace.<br> +In a dry nook where fern the floor bestrows<br> +He lays his stiffened limbs,—his eyes begin to close;</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 155<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 160</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XIX</span></td> +<td>When hearing a deep sigh, that seemed to come<br> +From one who mourned in sleep, he raised his head,<br> +And saw a woman in the naked room <br> +Outstretched, and turning on a restless bed:<br> +The moon a wan dead light around her shed.<br> +He waked her—spake in tone that would not fail,<br> +He hoped, to calm her mind; but ill he sped,<br> +For of that ruin she had heard a tale <br> +Which now with freezing thoughts did all her powers assail;</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 165<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 170</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XX</span></td> +<td>Had heard of one who, forced from storms to shroud,<br> +Felt the loose walls of this decayed Retreat<br> +Rock to incessant neighings shrill and loud,<br> +While his horse pawed the floor with furious heat;<br> +Till on a stone, that sparkled to his feet,<br> +Struck, and still struck again, the troubled horse:<br> +The man half raised the stone with pain and sweat,<br> +Half raised, for well his arm might lose its force<br> +Disclosing the grim head of a late murdered corse.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 175<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 180</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXI</span></td> +<td>Such tale of this lone mansion she had learned,<br> +And, when that shape, with eyes in sleep half drowned,<br> +By the moon's sullen lamp she first discerned,<br> +Cold stony horror all her senses bound.<br> +Her he addressed in words of cheering sound;<br> +Recovering heart, like answer did she make;<br> +And well it was that, of the corse there found,<br> +In converse that ensued she nothing spake;<br> +She knew not what dire pangs in him such tale could wake.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 185</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXII</span></td> +<td>But soon his voice and words of kind intent <br> +Banished that dismal thought; and now the wind<br> +In fainter howlings told its <i>rage</i> was spent:<br> +Meanwhile discourse ensued of various kind,<br> +Which by degrees a confidence of mind<br> +And mutual interest failed not to create.<br> +And, to a natural sympathy resigned,<br> +In that forsaken building where they sate<br> +The Woman thus retraced her own untoward fate. +</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v6"></a><a href="#7v6"><sup>6</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td>190<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 195</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXIII</span></td> +<td>"By Derwent's side my father dwelt—a man<br> +Of virtuous life, by pious parents bred;<br> +And I believe that, soon as I began<br> +To lisp, he made me kneel beside my bed,<br> +And in his hearing there my prayers I said:<br> +And afterwards, by my good father taught,<br> +I read, and loved the books in which I read;<br> +For books in every neighbouring house I sought,<br> +And nothing to my mind a sweeter pleasure brought.</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v7"></a><a href="#7v7"><sup>7</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 200<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 205</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXIV</span></td> +<td>"A little croft we owned—a plot of corn,<br> +A garden stored with peas, and mint, and thyme,<br> +And flowers for posies, oft on Sunday morn<br> +Plucked while the church bells rang their earliest chime.<br> +Can I forget our freaks at shearing time!<br> +My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;<br> +The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime;<br> +The swans that with white chests upreared in pride<br> +Rushing and racing came to meet me at the water-side!</td> + <td><a name="fr7v8"></a><a href="#7v8"><sup>8</sup></a> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v9"></a><a href="#7v9"><sup>9</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 210<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 215</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXV</span></td> +<td>"The staff I well remember which upbore<br> +The bending body of my active sire;<br> +His seat beneath the honied sycamore<br> +Where the bees hummed, and chair by winter fire;<br> +When market-morning came, the neat attire<br> +With which, though bent on haste, myself I decked;<br> +Our watchful house-dog, that would tease and tire<br> +The stranger till its barking-fit I checked;<br> +The red-breast, known for years, which at my casement pecked.</td> + <td><a name="fr7v10"></a><a href="#7v10"><sup>10</sup></a><br> + <br><br> + + <a name="fr7v11"></a><a href="#7v11"><sup>11</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v12"></a><a href="#7v12"><sup>12</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 220<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 225</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXVI</span></td> +<td>"The suns of twenty summers danced along,—<br> +Too little marked how fast they rolled away:<br> +But, through severe mischance and cruel wrong,<br> +My father's substance fell into decay:<br> +We toiled and struggled, hoping for a day <br> +When Fortune might put on a kinder look;<br> +But vain were wishes, efforts vain as they;<br> +He from his old hereditary nook<br> +Must part; the summons came;—our final leave we took.</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v13"></a><a href="#7v13"><sup>13</sup></a><br> + <br><br> + + <a name="fr7v14"></a><a href="#7v14"><sup>14</sup></a> / <a name="fr7v15"></a><a href="#7v15"><sup>15</sup></a> / <a name="fr7v16"></a><a href="#7v16"><sup>16</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 230</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXVII</span></td> +<td>"It was indeed a miserable hour<br> +When, from the last hill-top, my sire surveyed,<br> +Peering above the trees, the steeple tower<br> +That on his marriage day sweet music made!<br> +Till then, he hoped his bones might there be laid<br> +Close by my mother in their native bowers:<br> +Bidding me trust in God, he stood and prayed;—<br> +I could not pray:—through tears that fell in showers<br> +Glimmered our dear-loved home, alas! no longer ours!</td> + <td><a name="fr7v17"></a><a href="#7v17"><sup>17</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v18"></a><a href="#7v18"><sup>18</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td>235<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 240</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXVIII</span></td> +<td>"There was a Youth whom I had loved so long,<br> +That when I loved him not I cannot say:<br> +'Mid the green mountains many a thoughtless song<br> +We two had sung, like gladsome birds in May;<br> +When we began to tire of childish play,<br> +We seemed still more and more to prize each other;<br> +We talked of marriage and our marriage day;<br> +And I in truth did love him like a brother,<br> +For never could I hope to meet with such another.</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v19"></a><a href="#7v19"><sup>19</sup></a><br> + <a name="fr7v20"></a><a href="#7v20"><sup>20</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 245<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 250</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXIX</span></td> +<td>"Two years were passed since to a distant town<br> +He had repaired to ply a gainful trade:<br> +What tears of bitter grief, till then unknown!<br> +What tender vows our last sad kiss delayed!<br> +To him we turned:—we had no other aid:<br> +Like one revived, upon his neck I wept;<br> +And her whom he had loved in joy, he said,<br> +He well could love in grief; his faith he kept;<br> +And in a quiet home once more my father slept.</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v21"></a><a href="#7v21"><sup>21</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 255<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 260</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXX</span></td> +<td>"We lived in peace and comfort; and were blest<br> +With daily bread, by constant toil supplied.<br> +Three lovely babes had lain upon my breast;<br> +And often, viewing their sweet smiles, I sighed,<br> +And knew not why. My happy father died,<br> +When threatened war reduced the children's meal:<br> +Thrice happy! that for him the grave could hide<br> +The empty loom, cold hearth, and silent wheel,<br> +And tears that flowed for ills which patience might not heal. +</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v22"></a><a href="#7v22"><sup>22</sup></a><br> + <a name="fr7v23"></a><a href="#7v23"><sup>23</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v24"></a><a href="#7v24"><sup>24</sup></a><br> + <a name="fr7v25"></a><a href="#7v25"><sup>25</sup></a><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v26"></a><a href="#7v26"><sup>26</sup></a> / <a name="fr7v27"></a><a href="#7v27"><sup>27</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 265<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 270</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXXI</span></td> +<td>"'Twas a hard change; an evil time was come;<br> +We had no hope, and no relief could gain:<br> +But soon, with proud parade, the noisy drum<br> +Beat round to clear the streets of want and pain.<br> +My husband's arms now only served to strain<br> +Me and his children hungering in his view;<br> +In such dismay my prayers and tears were vain:<br> +To join those miserable men he flew,<br> +And now to the sea-coast, with numbers more, we drew.</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v28"></a><a href="#7v28"><sup>28</sup></a><br> + <a name="fr7v29"></a><a href="#7v29"><sup>29</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 275</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXXII</span></td> +<td>"There were we long neglected, and we bore<br> +Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weighed<br> +Green fields before us, and our native shore,<br> +We breathed a pestilential air, that made<br> +Ravage for which no knell was heard. We prayed<br> +For our departure; wished and wished—nor knew,<br> +'Mid that long sickness and those hopes delayed,<br> +That happier days we never more must view.<br> +The parting signal streamed—at last the land withdrew.</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v30"></a><a href="#7v30"><sup>30</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v31"></a><a href="#7v31"><sup>31</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td>280<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 285</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXXIII</span></td> +<td>"But the calm summer season now was past.<br> +On as we drove, the equinoctial deep<br> +Ran mountains high before the howling blast,<br> +And many perished in the whirlwind's sweep.<br> +We gazed with terror on their gloomy sleep,<br> +Untaught that soon such anguish must ensue,<br> +Our hopes such harvest of affliction reap,<br> +That we the mercy of the waves should rue:<br> +We reached the western world, a poor devoted crew.</td> + <td><a name="fr7v32"></a><a href="#7v32"><sup>32</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v33"></a><a href="#7v33"><sup>33</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v34"></a><a href="#7v34"><sup>34</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 290<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 295</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXXIV</span></td> +<td>"The pains and plagues that on our heads came down,<br> +Disease and famine, agony and fear,<br> +In wood or wilderness, in camp or town,<br> +It would unman the firmest heart to hear.<br> +All perished—all in one remorseless year,<br> +Husband and children! one by one, by sword<br> +And ravenous plague, all perished: every tear<br> +Dried up, despairing, desolate, on board<br> +A British ship I waked, as from a trance restored."</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v35"></a><a href="#7v35"><sup>35</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 300<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 305</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXXV</span></td> +<td>Here paused she of all present thought forlorn,<br> +Nor voice, nor sound, that moment's pain expressed,<br> +Yet Nature, with excess of grief o'erborne,<br> +From her full eyes their watery load released.<br> +He too was mute: and, ere her weeping ceased,<br> +He rose, and to the ruin's portal went,<br> +And saw the dawn opening the silvery east<br> +With rays of promise, north and southward sent;<br> +And soon with crimson fire kindled the firmament.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 310<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 315</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXXVI</span></td> +<td>"O come," he cried, "come, after weary night<br> +Of such rough storm, this happy change to view."<br> +So forth she came, and eastward looked; the sight<br> +Over her brow like dawn of gladness threw;<br> +Upon her cheek, to which its youthful hue <br> +Seemed to return, dried the last lingering tear,<br> +And from her grateful heart a fresh one drew:<br> +The whilst her comrade to her pensive cheer<br> +Tempered fit words of hope; and the lark warbled near.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 320</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXXVII</span></td> +<td>They looked and saw a lengthening road, and wain<br> +That rang down a bare slope not far remote:<br> +The barrows glistered bright with drops of rain,<br> +Whistled the waggoner with merry note,<br> +The cock far off sounded his clarion throat;<br> +But town, or farm, or hamlet, none they viewed,<br> +Only were told there stood a lonely cot<br> +A long mile thence. While thither they pursued<br> +Their way, the Woman thus her mournful tale renewed.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>325<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 330</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXXVIII</span></td> +<td>"Peaceful as this immeasurable plain<br> +Is now, by beams of dawning light imprest,<br> +In the calm sunshine slept the glittering main;<br> +The very ocean hath its hour of rest.<br> +I too forgot the heavings of my breast.<br> +How quiet 'round me ship and ocean were!<br> +As quiet all within me. I was blest,<br> +And looked, and fed upon the silent air<br> +Until it seemed to bring a joy to my despair.</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v36"></a><a href="#7v36"><sup>36</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v37"></a><a href="#7v37"><sup>37</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v38"></a><a href="#7v38"><sup>38</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 335<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 340</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXXIX</span></td> +<td>"Ah! how unlike those late terrific sleeps,<br> +And groans that rage of racking famine spoke;<br> +The unburied dead that lay in festering heaps,<br> +The breathing pestilence that rose like smoke,<br> +The shriek that from the distant battle broke,<br> +The mine's dire earthquake, and the pallid host<br> +Driven by the bomb's incessant thunder-stroke<br> +To loathsome vaults, where heart-sick anguish tossed,<br> +Hope died, and fear itself in agony was lost!</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v39"></a><a href="#7v39"><sup>39</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v40"></a><a href="#7v40"><sup>40</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 345<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 350</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XL</span></td> +<td>"Some mighty gulf of separation passed,<br> +I seemed transported to another world;<br> +A thought resigned with pain, when from the mast<br> +The impatient mariner the sail unfurled, <br> +And, whistling, called the wind that hardly curled<br> +The silent sea. From the sweet thoughts of home<br> +And from all hope I was for ever hurled.<br> +For me—farthest from earthly port to roam<br> +Was best, could I but shun the spot where man might come.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 355<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 360</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XLI</span></td> +<td>"And oft I thought (my fancy was so strong)<br> +That I, at last, a resting-place had found;<br> +'Here will I dwell,' said I, 'my whole life long,<br> +Roaming the illimitable waters round;<br> +Here will I live, of all but heaven disowned,<br> +And end my days upon the peaceful flood.'—<br> +To break my dream the vessel reached its bound;<br> +And homeless near a thousand homes I stood,<br> +And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v41"></a><a href="#7v41"><sup>41</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v42"></a><a href="#7v42"><sup>42</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 365</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XLII</span></td> +<td>"No help I sought; in sorrow turned adrift,<br> +Was hopeless, as if cast on some bare rock;<br> +Nor morsel to my mouth that day did lift,<br> +Nor raised my hand at any door to knock.<br> +I lay where, with his drowsy mates, the cock<br> +From the cross-timber of an out-house hung:<br> +Dismally tolled, that night, the city clock!<br> +At morn my sick heart hunger scarcely stung,<br> +Nor to the beggar's language could I fit my tongue.</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v43"></a><a href="#7v43"><sup>43</sup></a><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v44"></a><a href="#7v44"><sup>44</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v45"></a><a href="#7v45"><sup>45</sup></a><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v46"></a><a href="#7v46"><sup>46</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td>370<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 375</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XLIII</span></td> +<td>"So passed a second day; and, when the third<br> +Was come, I tried in vain the crowd's resort.<br> +—In deep despair, by frightful wishes stirred,<br> +Near the sea-side I reached a ruined fort;<br> +There, pains which nature could no more support,<br> +With blindness linked, did on my vitals fall;<br> +And, after many interruptions short<br> +Of hideous sense, I sank, nor step could crawl:<br> +Unsought for was the help that did my life recal.</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v47"></a><a href="#7v47"><sup>47</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v48"></a><a href="#7v48"><sup>48</sup></a><br> + <a name="fr7v49"></a><a href="#7v49"><sup>49</sup></a><br> + <a name="fr7v50"></a><a href="#7v50"><sup>50</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 380<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 385</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XLIV</span></td> +<td>"Borne to a hospital, I lay with brain<br> +Drowsy and weak, and shattered memory;<br> +I heard my neighbours in their beds complain <br> +Of many things which never troubled me—<br> +Of feet still bustling round with busy glee,<br> +Of looks where common kindness had no part,<br> +Of service done with cold formality,<br> +Fretting the fever round the languid heart,<br> +And groans which, as they said, might make a dead man start.</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v51"></a><a href="#7v51"><sup>51</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v52"></a><a href="#7v52"><sup>52</sup></a><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v53"></a><a href="#7v53"><sup>53</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 390<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 395</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XLV</span></td> +<td>"These things just served to stir the slumbering sense,<br> +Nor pain nor pity in my bosom raised.<br> +With strength did memory return; and, thence<br> +Dismissed, again on open day I gazed,<br> +At houses, men, and common light, amazed.<br> +The lanes I sought, and, as the sun retired,<br> +Came where beneath the trees a faggot blazed;<br> +The travellers saw me weep, my fate inquired,<br> +And gave me food—and rest, more welcome, more desired.</td> + <td><a name="fr7v54"></a><a href="#7v54"><sup>54</sup></a><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v55"></a><a href="#7v55"><sup>55</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v56"></a><a href="#7v56"><sup>56</sup></a><br> + <a name="fr7v57"></a><a href="#7v57"><sup>57</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 400<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 405</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XLVI</span></td> +<td>"Rough potters seemed they, trading soberly<br> +With panniered asses driven from door to door;<br> +But life of happier sort set forth to me,<br> +And other joys my fancy to allure—<br> +The bag-pipe dinning on the midnight moor<br> +In barn uplighted; and companions boon,<br> +Well met from far with revelry secure<br> +Among the forest glades, while jocund June<br> +Rolled fast along the sky his warm and genial moon.</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v58"></a><a href="#7v58"><sup>58</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v59"></a><a href="#7v59"><sup>59</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 410</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XLVII</span></td> +<td>"But ill they suited me—those journeys dark<br> +O'er moor and mountain, midnight theft to hatch!<br> +To charm the surly house-dog's faithful bark,<br> +Or hang on tip-toe at the lifted latch.<br> +The gloomy lantern, and the dim blue match.<br> +The black disguise, the warning whistle shrill,<br> +And ear still busy on its nightly watch,<br> +Were not for me, brought up in nothing ill:<br> +Besides, on griefs so fresh my thoughts were brooding still.</td> + <td><a name="fr7v60"></a><a href="#7v60"><sup>60</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td>415<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 420</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XLVIII</span></td> +<td>"What could I do, unaided and unblest?<br> +My father! gone was every friend of thine:<br> +And kindred of dead husband are at best<br> +Small help; and, after marriage such as mine,<br> +With little kindness would to me incline.<br> +Nor was I then for toil or service fit;<br> +My deep-drawn sighs no effort could confine;<br> +In open air forgetful would I sit<br> +Whole hours, with idle arms in moping sorrow knit.</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v61"></a><a href="#7v61"><sup>61</sup></a><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v62"></a><a href="#7v62"><sup>62</sup></a><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v63"></a><a href="#7v63"><sup>63</sup></a><br> + <a name="fr7v64"></a><a href="#7v64"><sup>64</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 425<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 430</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XLIX</span></td> +<td>"The roads I paced, I loitered through the fields;<br> +Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,<br> +Trusted my life to what chance bounty yields,<br> +Now coldly given, now utterly refused.<br> +The ground I for my bed have often used:<br> +But what afflicts my peace with keenest ruth,<br> +Is that I have my inner self abused,<br> +Forgone the home delight of constant truth,<br> +And clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth.</td> + <td><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v65"></a><a href="#7v65"><sup>65</sup></a><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v66"></a><a href="#7v66"><sup>66</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 435<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 440</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">L</span></td> +<td>"Through tears the rising sun I oft have viewed,<br> +Through tears have seen him towards that world descend<br> +Where my poor heart lost all its fortitude:<br> +Three years a wanderer now my course I bend—<br> +Oh! tell me whither—for no earthly friend<br> +Have I."—She ceased, and weeping turned away;<br> +As if because her tale was at an end,<br> +She wept; because she had no more to say<br> +Of that perpetual weight which on her spirit lay.</td> + <td><br> + <a name="fr7v67"></a><a href="#7v67"><sup>67</sup></a><br> + <br> + <a name="fr7v68"></a><a href="#7v68"><sup>68</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +445<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +450</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LI</span></td> +<td>True sympathy the Sailor's looks expressed,<br> +His looks—for pondering he was mute the while.<br> +Of social Order's care for wretchedness,<br> +Of Time's sure help to calm and reconcile,<br> +Joy's second spring and Hope's long-treasured smile,<br> +'Twas not for <i>him</i> to speak—a man so tried.<br> +Yet, to relieve her heart, in friendly style<br> +Proverbial words of comfort he applied,<br> +And not in vain, while they went pacing side by side.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 455</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LII</span></td> +<td>Ere long, from heaps of turf, before their sight,<br> +Together smoking in the sun's slant beam,<br> +Rise various wreaths that into one unite<br> +Which high and higher mounts with silver gleam:<br> +Fair spectacle,—but instantly a scream<br> +Thence bursting shrill did all remark prevent;<br> +They paused, and heard a hoarser voice blaspheme,<br> +And female cries. Their course they thither bent,<br> +And met a man who foamed with anger vehement.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>460<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 465</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LIII</span></td> +<td>A woman stood with quivering lips and pale,<br> +And, pointing to a little child that lay<br> +Stretched on the ground, began a piteous tale;<br> +How in a simple freak of thoughtless play<br> +He had provoked his father, who straightway,<br> +As if each blow were deadlier than the last,<br> +Struck the poor innocent. Pallid with dismay<br> +The Soldier's Widow heard and stood aghast;<br> +And stern looks on the man her grey-haired Comrade cast.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 470<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 475</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LIV</span></td> +<td>His voice with indignation rising high<br> +Such further deed in manhood's name forbade;<br> +The peasant, wild in passion, made reply<br> +With bitter insult and revilings sad;<br> +Asked him in scorn what business there he had;<br> +What kind of plunder he was hunting now;<br> +The gallows would one day of him be glad;—<br> +Though inward anguish damped the Sailor's brow,<br> +Yet calm he seemed as thoughts so poignant would allow.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 480<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 485</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LV</span></td> +<td>Softly he stroked the child, who lay outstretched<br> +With face to earth; and, as the boy turned round<br> +His battered head, a groan the Sailor fetched<br> +As if he saw—there and upon that ground—<br> +Strange repetition of the deadly wound<br> +He had himself inflicted. Through his brain<br> +At once the griding iron passage found;<br> +Deluge of tender thoughts then rushed amain,<br> +Nor could his sunken eyes the starting tear restrain.</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <a name="fr7D"></a><a href="#7D"><sup>D</sup></a></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 490<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 495</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LVI</span></td> +<td>Within himself he said—What hearts have we!<br> +The blessing this a father gives his child!<br> +Yet happy thou, poor boy! compared with me,<br> +Suffering not doing ill—fate far more mild.<br> +The stranger's looks and tears of wrath beguiled<br> +The father, and relenting thoughts awoke;<br> +He kissed his son—so all was reconciled.<br> +Then, with a voice which inward trouble broke<br> +Ere to his lips it came, the Sailor them bespoke.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 500</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LVII</span></td> +<td>"Bad is the world, and hard is the world's law<br> +Even for the man who wears the warmest fleece;<br> +Much need have ye that time more closely draw<br> +The bond of nature, all unkindness cease,<br> +And that among so few there still be peace:<br> +Else can ye hope but with such numerous foes<br> +Your pains shall ever with your years increase?"—<br> +While from his heart the appropriate lesson flows,<br> +A correspondent calm stole gently o'er his woes.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>505<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 510</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LVIII</span></td> +<td>Forthwith the pair passed on; and down they look<br> +Into a narrow valley's pleasant scene<br> +Where wreaths of vapour tracked a winding brook,<br> +That babbled on through groves and meadows green;<br> +A low-roofed house peeped out the trees between;<br> +The dripping groves resound with cheerful lays,<br> +And melancholy lowings intervene<br> +Of scattered herds, that in the meadow graze,<br> +Some amid lingering shade, some touched by the sun's rays.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 515<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 520</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LIX</span></td> +<td>They saw and heard, and, winding with the road<br> +Down a thick wood, they dropt into the vale;<br> +Comfort by prouder mansions unbestowed<br> +Their wearied frames, she hoped, would soon regale.<br> +Erelong they reached that cottage in the dale:<br> +It was a rustic inn;—the board was spread,<br> +The milk-maid followed with her brimming pail,<br> +And lustily the master carved the bread,<br> +Kindly the housewife pressed, and they in comfort fed.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 525<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 530</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LX</span></td> +<td>Their breakfast done, the pair, though loth, must part;<br> +Wanderers whose course no longer now agrees.<br> +She rose and bade farewell! and, while her heart<br> +Struggled with tears nor could its sorrow ease,<br> +She left him there; for, clustering round his knees,<br> +With his oak-staff the cottage children played;<br> +And soon she reached a spot o'erhung with trees<br> +And banks of ragged earth; beneath the shade<br> +Across the pebbly road a little runnel strayed.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 535<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 540</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXI</span></td> +<td>A cart and horse beside the rivulet stood;<br> +Chequering the canvas roof the sunbeams shone.<br> +She saw the carman bend to scoop the flood<br> +As the wain fronted her,—wherein lay one,<br> +A pale-faced Woman, in disease far gone.<br> +The carman wet her lips as well behoved;<br> +Bed under her lean body there was none,<br> +Though even to die near one she most had loved<br> +She could not of herself those wasted limbs have moved.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 545</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXII</span></td> +<td>The Soldier's Widow learned with honest pain<br> +And homefelt force of sympathy sincere,<br> +Why thus that worn-out wretch must there sustain<br> +The jolting road and morning air severe.<br> +The wain pursued its way; and following near<br> +In pure compassion she her steps retraced<br> +Far as the cottage. "A sad sight is here,"<br> +She cried aloud; and forth ran out in haste<br> +The friends whom she had left but a few minutes past.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>550<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 555</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXIII</span></td> +<td>While to the door with eager speed they ran,<br> +From her bare straw the Woman half upraised<br> +Her bony visage—gaunt and deadly wan;<br> +No pity asking, on the group she gazed<br> +With a dim eye, distracted and amazed;<br> +Then sank upon her straw with feeble moan.<br> +Fervently cried the housewife—"God be praised,<br> +I have a house that I can call my own;<br> +Nor shall she perish there, untended and alone!"</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 560<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 565</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXIV</span></td> +<td>So in they bear her to the chimney seat,<br> +And busily, though yet with fear, untie<br> +Her garments, and, to warm her icy feet<br> +And chafe her temples, careful hands apply.<br> +Nature reviving, with a deep-drawn sigh<br> +She strove, and not in vain, her head to rear;<br> +Then said—"I thank you all; if I must die,<br> +The God in heaven my prayers for you will hear;<br> +Till now I did not think my end had been so near.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 570<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 575</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXV</span></td> +<td>"Barred every comfort labour could procure,<br> +Suffering what no endurance could assuage,<br> +I was compelled to seek my father's door,<br> +Though loth to be a burthen on his age.<br> +But sickness stopped me in an early stage<br> +Of my sad journey; and within the wain<br> +They placed me—there to end life's pilgrimage,<br> +Unless beneath your roof I may remain:<br> +For I shall never see my father's door again.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 580<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 585</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXVI</span></td> +<td>"My life, Heaven knows, hath long been burthensome;<br> +But, if I have not meekly suffered, meek<br> +May my end be! Soon will this voice be dumb:<br> +Should child of mine e'er wander hither, speak<br> +Of me, say that the worm is on my cheek.— <br> +Torn from our hut, that stood beside the sea<br> +Near Portland lighthouse in a lonesome creek,<br> +My husband served in sad captivity<br> +On shipboard, bound till peace or death should set him free.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 590</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXVII</span></td> +<td>"A sailor's wife I knew a widow's cares,<br> +Yet two sweet little ones partook my bed;<br> +Hope cheered my dreams, and to my daily prayers<br> +Our heavenly Father granted each day's bread;<br> +Till one was found by stroke of violence dead,<br> +Whose body near our cottage chanced to lie; <br> +A dire suspicion drove us from our shed;<br> +In vain to find a friendly face we try,<br> +Nor could we live together those poor boys and I;</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>595<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 600</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXVIII</span></td> +<td>"For evil tongues made oath how on that day<br> +My husband lurked about the neighbourhood; <br> +Now he had fled, and whither none could say,<br> +And <i>he</i> had done the deed in the dark wood—<br> +Near his own home!—but he was mild and good;<br> +Never on earth was gentler creature seen;<br> +He'd not have robbed the raven of its food. <br> +My husband's loving kindness stood between<br> +Me and all worldly harms and wrongs however keen."</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 605<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 610</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXIX</span></td> +<td>Alas! the thing she told with labouring breath<br> +The Sailor knew too well. That wickedness<br> +His hand had wrought; and when, in the hour of death,<br> +He saw his Wife's lips move his name to bless <br> +With her last words, unable to suppress<br> +His anguish, with his heart he ceased to strive;<br> +And, weeping loud in this extreme distress,<br> +He cried—"Do pity me! That thou shouldst live <br> +I neither ask nor wish—forgive me, but forgive!"</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 615<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 620</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXX</span></td> +<td>To tell the change that Voice within her wrought<br> +Nature by sign or sound made no essay;<br> +A sudden joy surprised expiring thought,<br> +And every mortal pang dissolved away.<br> +Borne gently to a bed, in death she lay;<br> +Yet still while over her the husband bent,<br> +A look was in her face which seemed to say,<br> +"Be blest: by sight of thee from heaven was sent<br> +Peace to my parting soul, the fulness of content." </td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 625<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 630</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXXI</span></td> +<td><i>She</i> slept in peace,—his pulses throbbed and stopped,<br> +Breathless he gazed upon her face,—then took<br> +Her hand in his, and raised it, but both dropped,<br> +When on his own he cast a rueful look.<br> +His ears were never silent; sleep forsook <br> +His burning eyelids stretched and stiff as lead;<br> +All night from time to time under him shook<br> +The floor as he lay shuddering on his bed;<br> +And oft he groaned aloud, "O God, that I were dead!"</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 635</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXXII</span></td> +<td>The Soldier's Widow lingered in the cot; <br> +And, when he rose, he thanked her pious care<br> +Through which his Wife, to that kind shelter brought,<br> +Died in his arms; and with those thanks a prayer<br> +He breathed for her, and for that merciful pair.<br> +The corse interred, not one hour he remained <br> +Beneath their roof, but to the open air<br> +A burthen, now with fortitude sustained,<br> +He bore within a breast where dreadful quiet reigned.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>640<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 645</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXXIII</span></td> +<td>Confirmed of purpose, fearlessly prepared<br> +For act and suffering, to the city straight <br> +He journeyed, and forthwith his crime declared:<br> +"And from your doom," he added, "now I wait,<br> +Nor let it linger long, the murderer's fate."<br> +Not ineffectual was that piteous claim:<br> +"O welcome sentence which will end though late," <br> +He said, "the pangs that to my conscience came<br> +Out of that deed. My trust, Saviour! is in thy name!"</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + 650<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 655</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">LXXIV</span></td> +<td>His fate was pitied. Him in iron case<br> +(Reader, forgive the intolerable thought)<br> +They hung not:—no one on <i>his</i> form or face <br> +Could gaze, as on a show by idlers sought;<br> +No kindred sufferer, to his death-place brought<br> +By lawless curiosity or chance,<br> +When into storm the evening sky is wrought,<br> +Upon his swinging corse an eye can glance, <br> +And drop, as he once dropped, in miserable trance.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 660<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 665</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="7v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Three years ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... rose and pursued ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... demoniac ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Than he who now at night-fall treads thy bare domain! </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And, from its perilous shelter driven, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> The following stanza was only in the editions of 1798 and +1800:<br> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>By Derwent's side my Father's cottage stood,<br> + (The Woman thus her artless story told)<br> + One field, a flock, and what the neighbouring flood<br> + Supplied, to him were more than mines of gold.<br> + Light was my sleep; my days in transport roll'd:<br> + With thoughtless joy I stretch'd along the shore<br> + My father's nets, or watched, when from the fold<br> + High o'er the cliffs I led my fleecy store,<br> + A dizzy depth below! his boat and twinkling oar.<br><br> + + ... or from the mountain fold<br> + Saw on the distant lake his twinkling oar<br> + Or watch'd his lazy boat still less'ning more and more. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1800</td> +</tr> +</table> + <a href="#fr7v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>My father was a good and pious man,<br> + An honest man by honest parents bred, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> Stanzas XXIV. and XXV. were omitted from the editions of +1802 and 1805. They were restored in 1820.<br> +<a href="#fr7v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Can I forget what charms did once adorn<br> + My garden, stored with pease, and mint, and thyme,<br> + And rose and lilly for the sabbath morn?<br> + The sabbath bells, and their delightful chime;<br> + The gambols and wild freaks at shearing time;<br> + My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;<br> + The cowslip-gathering at May's dewy prime;<br> + The swans, that, when I sought the water-side,<br> + From far to meet me came, spreading their snowy pride.<br> + <br> + Can I forget our croft and plot of corn;<br> + Our garden, stored ...<br> + <br> + The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime;<br> + <br> + The swans, that with white chests upheaved in pride,<br> + Rushing and racing came to meet me at the waterside. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836<br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... yet ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v11"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 11:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>When ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v12"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 12:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>My watchful dog, whose starts of furious ire,<br> + When stranger passed, so often I have check'd; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v12">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v13"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 13:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... would ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v13">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v14"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 14:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... summer ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v14">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v15"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 15:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The suns of twenty summers danced along,—<br> + Ah! little marked, how fast they rolled away:<br> + Then rose a mansion proud our woods among,<br> + And cottage after cottage owned its sway,<br> + No joy to see a neighbouring house, or stray<br> + Through pastures not his own, the master took;<br> + My Father dared his greedy wish gainsay;<br> + He loved his old hereditary nook,<br> + And ill could I the thought of such sad parting brook. <br> + <br> + Then rose a stately hall our woods among, <br> + <br> + ... how fast they rolled away:<br> + But, through severe mischance, and cruel wrong,<br> + My father's substance fell into decay;<br> + We toiled, and struggled—hoping for a day<br> + When Fortune should put on a kinder look;<br> + But vain were wishes—efforts vain as they:<br> + He from his old hereditary nook<br> + Must part,—the summons came,—our final leave we took. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + 1800<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v15">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v16"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 16:</span></a> The following stanza occurs only in the editions 1798 to +1805:<br><br> + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> But, when he had refused the proffered gold,<br> + To cruel injuries he became a prey,<br> + Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:<br> + His troubles grew upon him day by day,<br> + Till all his substance fell into decay.<br> + His <a name="fr7i">little</a> range of water was denied<a href="#7i"><sup>i</sup></a>;<br> + All but the bed where his old body lay,<br> + All, all was seized, and weeping, side by side,<br> + We sought a home where we uninjured might abide. <br> + <br> + And all his substance fell into decay.<br> + They dealt most hardly with him, and he tried<br> + To move their hearts—but it was vain—for they<br> + Seized all he had; and, weeping ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1802-5</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v16">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v17"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 17:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Can I forget that miserable hour,<br> + <br> + It was in truth a lamentable hour </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v17">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v18"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 18:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1798</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>I saw our own dear home, that was ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1802</td> +</tr> +</table> + +The edition of 1820 returns to the text of 1798.<br> +<a href="#fr7v18">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v19"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 19:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... many and many a song </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v19">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v20"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 20:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... little birds ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v20">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v21"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 21:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>His father said, that to a distant town<br> + He must repair, to ply the artist's trade.<br> + <br> + Two years were pass'd, since to a distant Town<br> + He had repair'd to ply the artist's trade. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v21">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v22"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 22:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Four years each day with daily bread was blest,<br> + By constant toil and constant prayer supplied. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v22">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v23"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 23:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Three lovely infants lay upon my breast; </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v23">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v24"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 24:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>When sad distress... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v24">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v25"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 25:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... from him the grave did hide . + + ... for him ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v25">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v26"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 26:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1798</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... which ... </blockquote></td> + <td>Only in 1820.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v26">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v27"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 27:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... could ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v27">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v28"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 28:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1798</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>But soon, day after day, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1802</td> +</tr> +</table> + +The edition of 1820 reverts to the reading of 1798.<br> +<a href="#fr7v28">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v29"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 29:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... to sweep ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v29">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v30"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 30:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> There foul neglect for months and months we bore,<br> + Nor yet the crowded fleet its anchor stirred. <br> + <br> + There, long were we neglected, and we bore<br> + Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weigh'd; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v30">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v31"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 31:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Green fields before us and our native shore,<br> + By fever, from polluted air incurred,<br> + Ravage was made, for which no knell was heard.<br> + Fondly we wished, and wished away, nor knew,<br> + 'Mid that long sickness, and those hopes deferr'd, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v31">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v32"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 32:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>But from delay the summer calms were past. </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v32">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v33"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 33:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>We gazed with terror on the gloomy sleep<br> + Of them that perished in the whirlwind's sweep, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v33">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v34"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 34:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Oh! dreadful price of being to resign<br> + All that is dear <i>in</i> being! better far<br> + In Want's most lonely cave till death to pine,<br> + Unseen, unheard, unwatched by any star;<br> + Or in the streets and walks where proud men are,<br> + Better our dying bodies to obtrude,<br> + Than dog-like, wading at the heels of war,<br> + Protract a curst existence, with the brood<br> + That lap (their very nourishment!) their brother's blood. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + Only in the editions of 1798 and 1800.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v34">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v35"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 35:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> It would thy brain unsettle even to hear. </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v35">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v36"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 36:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Peaceful as some immeasurable plain<br> + By the first beams of dawning light impress'd, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v36">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v37"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 37:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... has its hour of rest,<br> + That comes not to the human mourner's breast.<br> +<br> + I too was calm, though heavily distress'd! </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v37">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v38"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 38:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Remote from man, and storms of mortal care,<br> + A heavenly silence did the waves invest;<br> + I looked and looked along the silent air,<br> + Until it seemed to bring a joy to my despair. <br> + <br> + Oh me, how quiet sky and ocean were!<br> + My heart was healed within me, I was bless'd.<br> + And looked, and looked ... <br> + <br> + My heart was hushed within me, ... <br> + <br> + As quiet all within me, ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1802<br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v38">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v39"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 39:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Where looks inhuman dwelt on festering heaps! </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v39">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v40"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 40:</span></a> The following stanza appeared only in the editions +1798-1805:<br><br> + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Yet does that burst of woe congeal my frame,<br> + When the dark streets appeared to heave and gape,<br> + While like a sea the storming army came,<br> + And Fire from Hell reared his gigantic shape,<br> + And Murder, by the ghastly gleam, and Rape<br> + Seized their joint prey, the mother and the child!<br> + But from these crazing thoughts my brain, escape!<br> + —For weeks the balmy air breathed soft and mild,<br> + And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. <br> + <br> + At midnight once the storming Army came,<br> + Yet do I see the miserable sight,<br> + The Bayonet, the Soldier, and the Flame<br> + That followed us and faced us in our flight:<br> + When Rape and Murder by the ghastly light<br> + Seized their joint prey, the Mother and the Child!<br> + But I must leave these thoughts.—From night to night,<br> + From day to day, the air breathed soft and mild;<br> + And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1802-5</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v40">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v41"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 41:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And oft, robb'd of my perfect mind, I thought<br> + At last my feet a resting-place had found:<br> + Here will I weep in peace, (so fancy wrought,) </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v41">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v42"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 42:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Here watch, of every human friend disowned,<br> + All day, my ready tomb the ocean-flood— <br> + <br> + Here will I live:—of every friend disown'd,<br> + Here will I roam about the ocean flood.— <br> + <br> + And end my days upon the ocean flood."— </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1802<br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v42">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v43"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 43:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>By grief enfeebled was I turned adrift,<br> + Helpless as sailor cast on desart rock;<br> + <br> + Helpless as sailor cast on some bare rock; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v43">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v44"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 44:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Nor dared ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v44">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v45"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 45:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>How dismal ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v45">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v46"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 46:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1832</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... frame ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v46">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v47"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 47:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>So passed another day, and so the third:<br> + Then did I try, in vain, the crowd's resort, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v47">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v48"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 48:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Dizzy my brain, with interruption short<br> + <br> + And I had many interruptions short </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v48">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v49"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 49:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... sunk ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v49">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v50"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 50:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And thence was borne away to neighbouring hospital.<br> + <br> + And thence was carried to a neighbouring Hospital. </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v50">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v51"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 51:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Recovery came with food: but still, my brain<br> + Was weak, nor of the past had memory. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v51">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v52"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 52:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... with careless cruelty, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v52">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v53"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 53:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... would ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v53">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v54"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 54:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... torpid ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v54">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v55"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 55:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Memory, though slow, returned with strength; ...<br> + <br> + My memory and my strength returned; ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v55">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v56"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 56:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The wild brood ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v56">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v57"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 57:</span></a> The following stanza occurs only in the editions of 1798 to +1805:<br><br> + +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>My heart is touched to think that men like these,<br> + The rude earth's tenants, were my first relief:<br> + How kindly did they paint their vagrant ease!<br> + And their long holiday that feared not grief,<br> + For all belonged to all, and each was chief.<br> + No plough their sinews strained; on grating road<br> + No wain they drove, and yet, the yellow sheaf<br> + In every vale for their delight was stowed:<br> + For them, in nature's meads, the milky udder flowed.<br> + <br> + My heart is touched to think that men like these,<br> + Wild houseless Wanderers, were my first relief:<br> + <br> + In every field, with milk their dairy overflow'd. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1802<br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v57">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v58"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 58:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Semblance, with straw and pannier'd ass, they made<br> + Of potters wandering on from door to door:<br> + But life of happier sort to me pourtrayed, <br> + <br> + They with their pannier'd Asses semblance made<br> + Of Potters ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v58">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v59"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 59:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>In depth of forest glade, when ... <br> + <br> + Among the forest glades when ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v59">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v60"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 60:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>But ill it suited me, in journey dark </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v60">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v61"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 61:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Poor father! ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v61">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v62"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 62:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Ill was I ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v62">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v63"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 63:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1842</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>With tears whose course no effort could confine,<br> + By high-way side forgetful would I sit <br> + <br> + By the road-side forgetful would I sit <br> + <br> + In the open air forgetful ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + 1802<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v63">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v64"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 64:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... my ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v64">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v65"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 65:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> I lived upon the mercy of the fields,<br> + And oft of cruelty the sky accused;<br> + On hazard, or what general bounty yields,<br> + <br> + I led a wandering life among the fields;<br> + Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,<br> + I liv'd upon what casual bounty yields, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v65">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v66"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 66:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The fields ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v66">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v67"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 67:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Three years a wanderer, often have I view'd,<br> + In tears, the sun towards that country tend <br> + <br> + Three years thus wandering, ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + 1802</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v67">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7v68"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 68:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And now across this moor my steps I bend— </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr7v68">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="7A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> In the <i>Prelude</i>, he says it was "three summer days." See +book xiii. l. 337.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr7A">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this +edition (1840). <a href="#6D">See</a> p. 37.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr7B">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> From a short MS. poem read to me when an under-graduate, by +my schoolfellow and friend Charles Farish, long since deceased. The +verses were by a brother of his, a man of promising genius, who died +young.—W. W. 1842.<br> +<br> +Charles Farish was the author of <i>The Minstrels of Winandermere</i>.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr7C">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="7D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> Compare Milton's "grinding sword," <i>Paradise Lost</i>, vi. l. +329.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr7D">return</a> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="7i"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote i:</span> </a> Several of the Lakes in the north of England are let +out to different Fishermen, in parcels marked out by imaginary lines +drawn from rock to rock.—W. W. 1798.<br> +<a href="#fr7i">return</a> +<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section8">Lines left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree...</a></h2> +<i><b>which stands near the lake of Esthwaite, on a desolate part of the shore, commanding<a href="#8A"><sup>A</sup></a> a beautiful prospect. </b></i><br> + +<h4>Composed 1795.—Published 1798</h4><br> + +<a href="#section8a">The Poem</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Composed in part at school at Hawkshead. The tree has disappeared, + and the slip of Common on which it stood, that ran parallel to the + lake, and lay open to it, has long been enclosed; so that the road has + lost much of its attraction. This spot was my favourite walk in the + evenings during the latter part of my school-time. The individual + whose habits and character are here given, was a gentleman of the + neighbourhood, a man of talent and learning, who had been educated at + one of our Universities, and returned to pass his time in seclusion on + his own estate. He died a bachelor in middle age. <a name="fr8B">Induced</a> by the + beauty of the prospect, he built a small summer-house, on the rocks + above the peninsula on which the Ferry House<a href="#8B"><sup>B</sup></a> stands. This property + afterwards passed into the hands of the late Mr. Curwen. The site was + long ago pointed out by Mr. West, in his <i>Guide</i>, as the pride of the + Lakes, and now goes by the name of "The Station." So much used I to be + delighted with the view from it, while a little boy, that some years + before the first pleasure house was built, I led thither from + Hawkshead a youngster about my own age, an Irish boy, who was a + servant to an itinerant conjurer. My notion was to witness the + pleasure I expected the boy would receive from the prospect of the + islands below and the intermingling water. I was not disappointed; and + I hope the fact, insignificant as it may appear to some, may be + thought worthy of note by others who may cast their eye over these + notes.—I. F.</span></blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">From 1815 to 1843 these 'Lines' were placed by Wordsworth among his +"Poems of Sentiment and Reflection." In 1845, they were classed among +"Poems written in Youth."—Ed. +</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section8a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> + +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands<br> +Far from all human dwelling: what if here<br> +No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?<br> +What if the bee love not these barren boughs?<br> +Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves,<br> +That break against the shore, shall lull thy mind<br> +By one soft impulse saved from vacancy.<br> + Who he was<br> +That piled these stones and with the mossy sod<br> +First covered, and here taught this aged Tree<br> +With its dark arms to form a circling bower,<br> +I well remember.—He was one who owned<br> +No common soul. In youth by science nursed,<br> +And led by nature into a wild scene<br> +Of lofty hopes, he to the world went forth <br> +A favoured Being, knowing no desire<br> +Which genius did not hallow; 'gainst the taint<br> +Of dissolute tongues, and jealousy, and hate,<br> +And scorn,—against all enemies prepared,<br> +All but neglect. The world, for so it thought,<br> +Owed him no service; wherefore he at once<br> +With indignation turned himself away,<br> +And with the food of pride sustained his soul<br> +In solitude.—Stranger! these gloomy boughs<br> +Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit,<br> +His only visitants a straggling sheep,<br> +The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper:<br> +And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath,<br> +And juniper and thistle, sprinkled o'er,<br> +Fixing his downcast eye, he many an hour <br> +A morbid pleasure nourished, tracing here<br> +An emblem of his own unfruitful life:<br> +And, lifting up his head, he then would gaze<br> +On the more distant scene,—how lovely 'tis<br> +Thou seest,—and he would gaze till it became <br> +Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain<br> +The beauty, still more beauteous! Nor, that time,<br> +When nature had subdued him to herself,<br> +Would he forget those Beings to whose minds<br> +Warm from the labours of benevolence <br> +The world, and human life, appeared a scene<br> +Of kindred loveliness: then he would sigh,<br> +Inly disturbed, to think that others felt<br> +What he must never feel: and so, lost Man!<br> +On visionary views would fancy feed, <br> +Till his eye streamed with tears. In this deep vale<br> +He died,—this seat his only monument.<br> + If Thou be one whose heart the holy forms<br> +Of young imagination have kept pure,<br> +Stranger! henceforth be warned; and know that pride,<br> +Howe'er disguised in its own majesty, <br> +Is littleness; that he who feels contempt<br> +For any living thing, hath faculties<br> +Which he has never used; that thought with him<br> +Is in its infancy. The man whose eye <br> +Is ever on himself doth look on one,<br> +The least of Nature's works, one who might move<br> +The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds<br> +Unlawful, ever. O be wiser, Thou!<br> +Instructed that true knowledge leads to love; <br> +True dignity abides with him alone<br> +Who, in the silent hour of inward thought,<br> +Can still suspect, and still revere himself,<br> +In lowliness of heart.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr8v1"></a><a href="#8v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr8v2"></a><a href="#8v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr8v3"></a><a href="#8v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr8v4"></a><a href="#8v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr8v5"></a><a href="#8v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr8v6"></a><a href="#8v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr8v7"></a><a href="#8v7"><sup>7</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr8v8"></a><a href="#8v8"><sup>8</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr8v9"></a><a href="#8v9"><sup>9</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr8v10"></a><a href="#8v10"><sup>10</sup></a> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">The place where this Yew-tree stood may be found without difficulty. It +was about three-quarters of a mile from Hawkshead, on the eastern shore +of the lake, a little to the left above the present highway, as one goes +towards Sawrey. Mr. Bowman, the son of Wordsworth's last teacher at the +grammar-school of Hawkshead, told me that it stood about forty yards +nearer the village than the yew which is now on the roadside, and is +sometimes called "Wordsworth's Yew." In the poet's school-days the road +passed right through the unenclosed common, and the tree was a +conspicuous object. It was removed, he says, owing to the popular belief +that its leaves were poisonous, and might injure the cattle grazing in +the common. The present tree is erroneously called "Wordsworth's Yew." +Its proximity to the place where the tree of the poem stood has given +rise to the local tradition.—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="8v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1832</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>What if these barren boughs the bee not loves; </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr8v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>First covered o'er, and taught this aged tree, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr8v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Now wild, to bend its arms in circling shade, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr8v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... In youth, by genius nurs'd,<br> + And big with lofty views, he to the world<br> + Went forth, pure in his heart, against the taint<br> + Of dissolute tongues, 'gainst jealousy, and hate,<br> + And scorn, against all enemies prepared,<br> + All but neglect: and so, his spirit damped<br> + At once, with rash disdain he turned away,<br> + <br> + ... The world, for so it thought,<br> + Owed him no service: he was like a plant<br> + Fair to the sun, the darling of the winds,<br> + But hung with fruit which no one, that passed by,<br> + Regarded, and, his spirit damped at once,<br> + With indignation did he turn away </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr8v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1798</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The stone-chat, or the sand-lark, restless Bird<br> + Piping along the margin of the lake; </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> + The text of 1820 returned to that of 1798<a href="#f8i"><sup>i</sup></a>.<br> +<a href="#fr8v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And on these barren rocks, with juniper,<br> + And heath, and thistle, thinly sprinkled o'er. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr8v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... downward<a href="#f8ii"><sup>ii</sup></a> ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr8v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> This line was added by S. T. C. in the edition of 1800.<br> +<a href="#fr8v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... and man himself, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr8v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> With mournful joy, to think ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr8v10">return</a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="8A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> Yet commanding, 1798-1805.<br> +<a href="#section8">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="8B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> The Ferry on Windermere.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr8B">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="f8i"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote i:</span> </a> The final retention of the reading of 1798 was probably +due to a remark of Charles Lamb's, in 1815, in which he objected to the +loss of the "admirable line" in the first edition, "a line quite alive," +he called it. Future generations may doubt whether the reading of 1798, +or that of 1815, is the better.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr8v5">return to variant</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="f8ii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote ii:</span> </a>An emendation by S. T. C.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr8v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section9">The Borderers</a></h2> + +<b><i>A Tragedy.</i></b><br> +<br> +<h4>Composed 1795-6.—Published 1842</h4><br> + +<a href="#section9a">The Play</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + +<blockquote><a name="fr9A">Readers</a> already acquainted with my Poems will recognise, in the +following composition, some eight or ten lines<a href="#9A"><sup>A</sup></a>, which I have not +scrupled to retain in the places where they originally stood. It is +proper however to add, that they would not have been used elsewhere, if +I had foreseen the time when I might be induced to publish this Tragedy.<br> +<br> +February 28, 1842<a href="#9B"><sup>B</sup></a>.<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> + This Dramatic Piece, as noted in its title-page, was composed in + 1795-6. It lay nearly from that time till within the last two or three + months unregarded among my papers, without being mentioned even to my + most intimate friends. Having, however, impressions upon my mind which + made me unwilling to destroy the MS., I determined to undertake the + responsibility of publishing it during my own life, rather than impose + upon my successors the task of deciding its fate. Accordingly it has + been revised with some care; but, as it was at first written, and is + now published, without any view to its exhibition upon the stage, not + the slightest alteration has been made in the conduct of the story, or + the composition of the characters; above all, in respect to the two + leading Persons of the Drama, I felt no inducement to make any change. + The study of human nature suggests this awful truth, that, as in the + trials to which life subjects us, sin and crime are apt to start from + their very opposite qualities, so there are no limits to the hardening + of the heart, and the perversion of the understanding to which they + may carry their slaves. During my long residence in France, while the + Revolution was rapidly advancing to its extreme of wickedness, I <a name="fr9C">had</a> + frequent opportunities of being an eye-witness of this process, and it + was while that knowledge was fresh upon my memory, that the Tragedy of + 'The Borderers' was composed<a href="#9C"><sup>C</sup></a>. +<br> +<br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> + +<span style="color: #663300;">Of this dramatic work I have little to say in addition to the short + printed note which will be found attached to it. It was composed at + Racedown, in Dorset, during the latter part of the year 1795, and in + the following year. Had it been the work of a later period of life, it + would have been different in some respects from what it is now. The + plot would have been something more complex, and a greater variety of + characters introduced to relieve the mind from the pressure of + incidents so mournful. The manners also would have been more attended + to. My care was almost exclusively given to the passions and the + characters, and the position in which the persons in the drama stood + relatively to each other, that the reader (for I had then no thought + of the stage) might be moved, and to a degree instructed, by lights + penetrating somewhat into the depths of our nature. In this endeavour, + I cannot think, upon a very late review, that I have failed. As to the + scene and period of action, little more was required for my purpose + than the absence of established law and government, so that the agents + might be at liberty to act on their own impulses. Nevertheless, I do + remember, that having a wish to colour the manners in some degree from + local history more than my knowledge enabled me to do, I read + Redpath's <i>History of the Borders</i>, but found there nothing to my + purpose. I once made an observation to Sir W. Scott, in which he + concurred, that it was difficult to conceive how so dull a book could + be written on such a subject. Much about the same time, but little + after, Coleridge was employed in writing his tragedy of <i>Remorse</i>; and + it happened that soon after, through one of the Mr. Poole's, Mr. + Knight, the actor, heard that we had been engaged in writing plays, + and upon his suggestion, mine was curtailed, and I believe Coleridge's + also, was offered to Mr. Harris, manager of Covent Garden. For myself, + I had no hope, nor even a wish (though a successful play would in the + then state of my finances have been a most welcome piece of good + fortune), that he should accept my performance; so that I incurred no + disappointment when the piece was <i>judiciously</i> returned as not + calculated for the stage. In this judgment I entirely concurred: and + had it been otherwise, it was so natural for me to shrink from public + notice, that any hope I might have had of success would not have + reconciled me altogether to such an exhibition. Mr. C.'s play was, as + is well known, brought forward several years after, through the + kindness of Mr. Sheridan. In conclusion, I may observe, that while I + was composing this play, I wrote a short essay, illustrative of that + constitution and those tendencies of human nature which make the + apparently <i>motiveless</i> actions of bad men intelligible to careful + observers. This was partly done with reference to the character of + Oswald, and his persevering endeavour to lead the man he disliked into + so heinous a crime; but still more to preserve in my distinct + remembrance, what I had observed of transitions in character, and the + reflections I had been led to make, during the time I was a witness of + the changes through which the French Revolution passed.—I. F.</span></blockquote><br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section9a"></a><h4>The Play</h4><br> + +<b><i>Dramatis Personæ:</i></b><br> +<br> + +<table summary="dramatis personæ" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke...</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald...</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace...</i></td> + <td>...all of the Band of Borderers</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy...</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lennox...</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert...</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wilfred</i></td> + <td>Servant To Marmaduke</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Forester</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>A Peasant</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Female Beggar</i></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Wife To Eldred</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>Peasant, Pilgrims, etc.</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<b><i>Scene: Borders of England and Scotland<br> +<br> +Time: The Reign of Henry III.</i></b><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">Act I</span><br> +<br> +<b><i>Scene: Road in a Wood</i></b>.<br> +<br> +<i><b>Wallace</b> and <b>Lacy</b>..</i>.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>The Troop will be impatient; let us hie<br> +Back to our post, and strip the Scottish Foray<br> +Of their rich Spoil, ere they recross the Border.<br> +—-Pity that our young Chief will have no part<br> +In this good service.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td> Rather let us grieve<br> +That, in the undertaking which has caused<br> +His absence, he hath sought, whate'er his aim,<br> +Companionship with One of crooked ways,<br> +From whose perverted soul can come no good<br> +To our confiding, open-hearted, Leader.</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>True; and, remembering how the Band have proved<br> +That Oswald finds small favour in our sight,<br> +Well may we wonder he has gained such power<br> +Over our much-loved Captain.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td> I have heard<br> +Of some dark deed to which in early life<br> +His passion drove him—then a Voyager<br> +Upon the midland Sea. You knew his bearing<br> +In Palestine?</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>Where he despised alike<br> +Mohammedan and Christian. But enough;<br> +Let us begone—the Band may else be foiled.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>Exeunt</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>Enter <b>Marmaduke</b> and <b>Wilfred</b></i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wilfred</i></td> + <td>Be cautious, my dear Master!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> I perceive<br> +That fear is like a cloak which old men huddle<br> +About their love, as if to keep it warm.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wilfred</i></td> + <td>Nay, but I grieve that we should part. This Stranger,<br> +For such he is—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Your busy fancies, Wilfred,<br> +Might tempt me to a smile; but what of him?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wilfred</i></td> + <td>You know that you have saved his life.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I know it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wilfred</i></td> + <td>And that he hates you!—Pardon me, perhaps<br> +That word was hasty.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Fy! no more of it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wilfred</i></td> + <td>Dear Master! gratitude's a heavy burden<br> +To a proud Soul.—Nobody loves this Oswald—<br> +Yourself, you do not love him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> I do more,<br> +I honour him. Strong feelings to his heart<br> +Are natural; and from no one can be learnt<br> +More of man's thoughts and ways than his experience<br> +Has given him power to teach: and then for courage<br> +And enterprise—what perils hath he shunned?<br> +What obstacles hath he failed to overcome?<br> +Answer these questions, from our common knowledge,<br> +And be at rest.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wilfred</i></td> + <td>Oh, Sir!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Peace, my good Wilfred;<br> +Repair to Liddesdale, and tell the Band<br> +I shall be with them in two days, at farthest.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wilfred</i></td> + <td>May He whose eye is over all protect you! </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>Exir</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>Enter <b>Oswald</b> (a bunch of plants in his hand)</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>This wood is rich in plants and curious simples.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(looking at them)</i><br> + The wild rose, and the poppy, and the nightshade:<br> +Which is your favorite, Oswald?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>That which, while it is<br> +Strong to destroy, is also strong to heal— <br> +<i> (Looking forward)</i><br> +Not yet in sight!—We'll saunter here awhile;<br> +They cannot mount the hill, by us unseen.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i><br> + </td> + <td><i>(a letter in his hand)</i><br> + It is no common thing when one like you<br> +Performs these delicate services, and therefore<br> +I feel myself much bounden to you, Oswald;<br> +'Tis a strange letter this!—You saw her write it?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>And saw the tears with which she blotted it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>And nothing less would satisfy him?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> No less;<br> +For that another in his Child's affection<br> +Should hold a place, as if 'twere robbery,<br> +He seemed to quarrel with the very thought.<br> +Besides, I know not what strange prejudice<br> +Is rooted in his mind; this Band of ours,<br> +Which you've collected for the noblest ends,<br> +Along the confines of the Esk and Tweed<br> +To guard the Innocent—he calls us "Outlaws";<br> +And, for yourself, in plain terms he asserts<br> +This garb was taken up that indolence<br> +Might want no cover, and rapacity<br> +Be better fed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Ne'er may I own the heart<br> +That cannot feel for one, helpless as he is.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Thou know'st me for a Man not easily moved,<br> +Yet was I grievously provoked to think<br> +Of what I witnessed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> This day will suffice<br> +To end her wrongs.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> But if the blind Man's tale<br> +Should <i>yet</i> be true?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Would it were possible!<br> +Did not the Soldier tell thee that himself,<br> +And others who survived the wreck, beheld<br> +The Baron Herbert perish in the waves<br> +Upon the coast of Cyprus?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Yes, even so,<br> +And I had heard the like before: in sooth<br> +The tale of this his quondam Barony<br> +Is cunningly devised; and, on the back<br> +Of his forlorn appearance, could not fail<br> +To make the proud and vain his tributaries,<br> +And stir the pulse of lazy charity.<br> +The seignories of Herbert are in Devon;<br> +We, neighbours of the Esk and Tweed; 'tis much<br> +The Arch-Impostor—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Treat him gently, Oswald:<br> +Though I have never seen his face, methinks,<br> +There cannot come a day when I shall cease<br> +To love him. I remember, when a Boy<br> +Of scarcely seven years' growth, beneath the Elm<br> +That casts its shade over our village school,<br> +'Twas my delight to sit and hear Idonea<br> +Repeat her Father's terrible adventures,<br> +Till all the band of play-mates wept together;<br> +And that was the beginning of my love.<br> +And, through all converse of our later years,<br> +An image of this old Man still was present,<br> +When I had been most happy. Pardon me<br> +If this be idly spoken.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> See, they come,<br> +Two Travellers!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(points)</i><br> + <a name="fr9v1">The</a> woman<a href="#9v1"><sup>1</sup></a> is Idonea.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>And leading Herbert.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> We must let them pass—<br> +This thicket will conceal us. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[They step aside.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Idonea</b>, leading <b>Herbert</b> blind.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Dear Father, you sigh deeply; ever since<br> +We left the willow shade by the brook-side,<br> +Your natural breathing has been troubled.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> Nay,<br> +You are too fearful; yet must I confess,<br> +Our march of yesterday had better suited<br> +A firmer step than mine.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> That dismal Moor—<br> +In spite of all the larks that cheered our path,<br> +I never can forgive it: but how steadily<br> +<i>You</i> paced along, when the bewildering moonlight<br> +Mocked me with many a strange fantastic shape!—<br> +I thought the Convent never would appear;<br> +It seemed to move away from us: and yet,<br> +That you are thus the fault is mine; for the air<br> +Was soft and warm, no dew lay on the grass,<br> +And midway on the waste ere night had fallen<br> +I spied a Covert walled and roofed with sods—<br> +A miniature; belike some Shepherd-boy,<br> +Who might have found a nothing-doing hour<br> +Heavier than work, raised it: within that hut<br> +We might have made a kindly bed of heath,<br> +And thankfully there rested side by side<br> +Wrapped in our cloaks, and, with recruited strength,<br> +Have hailed the morning sun. But cheerily, Father,—<br> +That staff of yours, I could almost have heart<br> +To fling't away from you: you make no use<br> +Of me, or of my strength;—come, let me feel<br> +That you do press upon me. There—indeed<br> +You are quite exhausted. Let us rest awhile<br> +On this green bank. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[He sits down.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert </i></td> + <td> <i>(after some time)</i><br> + Idonea, you are silent,<br> +And I divine the cause.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> Do not reproach me:<br> +I pondered patiently your wish and will<br> +When I gave way to your request; and now,<br> +When I behold the ruins of that face,<br> +Those eyeballs dark—dark beyond hope of light,<br> +And think that they were blasted for my sake,<br> +The name of Marmaduke is blown away:<br> +Father, I would not change that sacred feeling<br> +For all this world can give.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> Nay, be composed:<br> +Few minutes gone a faintness overspread<br> +My frame, and I bethought me of two things<br> +I ne'er had heart to separate—my grave,<br> +And thee, my Child!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> Believe me, honoured Sire!<br> +'Tis weariness that breeds these gloomy fancies,<br> +And you mistake the cause: you hear the woods<br> +Resound with music, could you see the sun,<br> +And look upon the pleasant face of Nature—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>I comprehend thee—I should be as cheerful<br> +As if we two were twins; two songsters bred<br> +In the same nest, my spring-time one with thine.<br> +My fancies, fancies if they be, are such<br> +As come, dear Child! from a far deeper source<br> +Than bodily weariness. While here we sit<br> +I feel my strength returning.—The bequest<br> +Of thy kind Patroness, which to receive<br> +We have thus far adventured, will suffice<br> +To save thee from the extreme of penury;<br> +But when thy Father must lie down and die,<br> +How wilt thou stand alone?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> Is he not strong?<br> +Is he not valiant?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> Am I then so soon<br> +Forgotten? have my warnings passed so quickly<br> +Out of thy mind? My dear, my only, Child;<br> +Thou wouldst be leaning on a broken reed—<br> +This Marmaduke—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> O could you hear his voice:<br> +Alas! you do not know him. He is one<br> +(I wot not what ill tongue has wronged him with you)<br> +All gentleness and love. His face bespeaks<br> +A deep and simple meekness: and that Soul,<br> +Which with the motion of a virtuous act<br> +Flashes a look of terror upon guilt,<br> +Is, after conflict, quiet as the ocean,<br> +By a miraculous finger, stilled at once.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Unhappy Woman!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> Nay, it was my duty<br> +Thus much to speak; but think not I forget—<br> +Dear Father! how <i>could</i> I forget and live—<br> +You and the story of that doleful night<br> +When, Antioch blazing to her topmost towers,<br> +You rushed into the murderous flames, returned<br> +Blind as the grave, but, as you oft have told me,<br> +Clasping your infant Daughter to your heart.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Thy Mother too!—scarce had I gained the door,<br> +I caught her voice; she threw herself upon me,<br> +I felt thy infant brother in her arms;<br> +She saw my blasted face—a tide of soldiers<br> +That instant rushed between us, and I heard<br> +Her last death-shriek, distinct among a thousand.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Nay, Father, stop not; let me hear it all.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Dear Daughter! precious relic of that time—<br> +For my old age, it doth remain with thee<br> +To make it what thou wilt. Thou hast been told,<br> +That when, on our return from Palestine,<br> +I found how my domains had been usurped,<br> +I took thee in my arms, and we began<br> +Our wanderings together. Providence<br> +At length conducted us to Rossland,—there,<br> +Our melancholy story moved a Stranger<br> +To take thee to her home—and for myself,<br> +Soon after, the good Abbot of St. Cuthbert's<br> +Supplied my helplessness with food and raiment,<br> +And, as thou know'st, gave me that humble Cot<br> +Where now we dwell.—For many years I bore<br> +Thy absence, till old age and fresh infirmities<br> +Exacted thy return, and our reunion.<br> +I did not think that, during that long absence,<br> +My Child, forgetful of the name of Herbert,<br> +Had given her love to a wild Freebooter,<br> +Who here, upon the borders of the Tweed,<br> +Doth prey alike on two distracted Countries,<br> +Traitor to both.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> Oh, could you hear his voice!<br> +I will not call on Heaven to vouch for me,<br> +But let this kiss speak what is in my heart.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter a Peasant]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Peasant</i></td> + <td>Good morrow, Strangers! If you want a Guide,<br> +Let me have leave to serve you!</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> My Companion<br> +Hath need of rest; the sight of Hut or Hostel<br> +Would be most welcome.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Peasant</i></td> + <td> Yon white hawthorn gained,<br> +You will look down into a dell, and there<br> +Will see an ash from which a sign-board hangs;<br> +The house is hidden by the shade. Old Man,<br> +You seem worn out with travel—shall I support you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>I thank you; but, a resting-place so near,<br> +'Twere wrong to trouble you.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Peasant</i></td> + <td>God speed you both.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exit Peasant.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Idonea, we must part. Be not alarmed—<br> +'Tis but for a few days—a thought has struck me.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>That I should leave you at this house, and thence<br> +Proceed alone. It shall be so; for strength<br> +Would fail you ere our journey's end be reached.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exit <b>Herbert</b> supported by <b>Idonea</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Re-enter <b>Marmaduke</b> and <b>Oswald</b>]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>This instant will we stop him—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Be not hasty,<br> +For, sometimes, in despite of my conviction,<br> +He tempted me to think the Story true;<br> +'Tis plain he loves the Maid, and what he said<br> +That savoured of aversion to thy name<br> +Appeared the genuine colour of his soul—<br> +Anxiety lest mischief should befal her<br> +After his death.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I have been much deceived.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>But sure he loves the Maiden, and never love<br> +Could find delight to nurse itself so strangely,<br> +Thus to torment her with <i>inventions</i>!—death—<br> +There must be truth in this.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Truth in his story!<br> +He must have felt it then, known what it was,<br> +And in such wise to rack her gentle heart<br> +Had been a tenfold cruelty.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Strange pleasures<br> +Do we poor mortals cater for ourselves!<br> +To see him thus provoke her tenderness<br> +With tales of weakness and infirmity!<br> +I'd wager on his life for twenty years.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>We will not waste an hour in such a cause.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Why, this is noble! shake her off at once.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Her virtues are his instruments.—A Man<br> +Who has so practised on the world's cold sense,<br> +May well deceive his Child—what! leave her thus,<br> +A prey to a deceiver?—no—no—no—<br> +'Tis but a word and then—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Something is here<br> +More than we see, or whence this strong aversion?<br> +Marmaduke! I suspect unworthy tales<br> +Have reached his ear—you have had enemies.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Enemies!—of his own coinage.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> That may be,<br> +But wherefore slight protection such as you<br> +Have power to yield? perhaps he looks elsewhere.—<br> +I am perplexed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>No—no—the thing stands clear of mystery;<br> +(As you have said) he coins himself the slander<br> +With which he taints her ear;—for a plain reason;<br> +He dreads the presence of a virtuous man<br> +Like you; he knows your eye would search his heart,<br> +Your justice stamp upon his evil deeds<br> +The punishment they merit. All is plain:<br> +It cannot be—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>What cannot be?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Yet that a Father<br> +Should in his love admit no rivalship,<br> +And torture thus the heart of his own Child—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Heaven forbid!—<br> +There was a circumstance, trifling indeed—<br> +It struck me at the time—yet I believe<br> +I never should have thought of it again<br> +But for the scene which we by chance have witnessed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>What is your meaning?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Two days gone I saw,<br> +Though at a distance and he was disguised,<br> +Hovering round Herbert's door, a man whose figure<br> +Resembled much that cold voluptuary,<br> +The villain, Clifford. He hates you, and he knows<br> +Where he can stab you deepest.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Clifford never<br> +Would stoop to skulk about a Cottage door—<br> +It could not be.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> And yet I now remember,<br> +That, when your praise was warm upon my tongue,<br> +And the blind Man was told how you had rescued<br> +A maiden from the ruffian violence<br> +Of this same Clifford, he became impatient<br> +And would not hear me.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> No—it cannot be—<br> +I dare not trust myself with such a thought—<br> +Yet whence this strange aversion? You are a man<br> +Not used to rash conjectures—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> If you deem it<br> +A thing worth further notice, we must act<br> +With caution, sift the matter artfully.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exeunt <b>Marmaduke</b> and <b>Oswald</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—The door of the Hostel</b></i><br> +<br> +<i><b>Herbert</b>, <b>Idonea</b>, and Host</i><br> +<br><br> + + + +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td><i> (seated)</i><br> + As I am dear to you, remember, Child!<br> +This last request.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>You know me, Sire; farewell!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>And are you going then? Come, come, Idonea,<br> +We must not part,—I have measured many a league<br> +When these old limbs had need of rest,—and now<br> +I will not play the sluggard.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Nay, sit down.<br> +<i>[Turning to Host.]</i><br> +Good Host, such tendance as you would expect<br> +From your own Children, if yourself were sick,<br> +Let this old Man find at your hands; poor Leader,<br> +<i>[Looking at the dog.]</i><br> +We soon shall meet again. If thou neglect<br> +This charge of thine, then ill befall thee!—Look,<br> +The little fool is loth to stay behind.<br> +Sir Host! by all the love you bear to courtesy,<br> +Take care of him, and feed the truant well.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host</i></td> + <td>Fear not, I will obey you;—but One so young,<br> +And One so fair, it goes against my heart<br> +That you should travel unattended, Lady!—<br> +I have a palfrey and a groom: the lad<br> +Shall squire you, (would it not be better, Sir?)<br> +And for less fee than I would let him run<br> +For any lady I have seen this twelvemonth.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>You know, Sir, I have been too long your guard<br> +Not to have learnt to laugh at little fears.<br> +Why, if a wolf should leap from out a thicket,<br> +A look of mine would send him scouring back,<br> +Unless I differ from the thing I am<br> +When you are by my side.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> Idonea, wolves<br> +Are not the enemies that move my fears.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>No more, I pray, of this. Three days at farthest<br> +Will bring me back—protect him, Saints—farewell!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exit <b>Idonea</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host</i></td> + <td>'Tis never drought with us—St. Cuthbert and his Pilgrims,<br> +Thanks to them, are to us a stream of comfort:<br> +Pity the Maiden did not wait awhile;<br> +She could not, Sir, have failed of company.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Now she is gone, I fain would call her back.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host </i></td> + <td><i>(calling)</i><br> + Holla!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> No, no, the business must be done.—<br> +What means this riotous noise?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host</i></td> + <td> The villagers<br> +Are flocking in—a wedding festival—<br> +That's all—God save you, Sir.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Oswald</b>]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Ha! as I live,<br> +The Baron Herbert.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host</i></td> + <td>Mercy, the Baron Herbert!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>So far into your journey! on my life,<br> +You are a lusty Traveller. But how fare you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Well as the wreck I am permits. And you, Sir?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>I do not see Idonea.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> Dutiful Girl,<br> +She is gone before, to spare my weariness.<br> +But what has brought you hither?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> A slight affair,<br> +That will be soon despatched.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> Did Marmaduke<br> +Receive that letter?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Be at peace.—The tie<br> +Is broken, you will hear no more of <i>him</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>This is true comfort, thanks a thousand times!—<br> +That noise!—would I had gone with her as far<br> +As the Lord Clifford's Castle: I have heard<br> +That, in his milder moods, he has expressed<br> +Compassion for me. His influence is great<br> +With Henry, our good King;—the Baron might<br> +Have heard my suit, and urged my plea at Court.<br> +No matter—he's a dangerous Man.—That noise!—<br> +'Tis too disorderly for sleep or rest.<br> +Idonea would have fears for me,—the Convent<br> +Will give me quiet lodging. You have a boy, good Host,<br> +And he must lead me back.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> You are most lucky;<br> +I have been waiting in the wood hard by<br> +For a companion—here he comes; our journey<br> +<i>[Enter <b>Marmaduke</b>]</i><br> +Lies on your way; accept us as your Guides.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Alas! I creep so slowly.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Never fear;<br> +We'll not complain of that.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> My limbs are stiff<br> +And need repose. Could you but wait an hour?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Most willingly!—Come, let me lead you in,<br> +And, while you take your rest, think not of us;<br> +We'll stroll into the wood; lean on my arm.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>[Conducts <b>Herbert</b> into the house. Exit <b>Marmaduke</b>.]<br> + <br> + [Enter Villagers]</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald </i></td> + <td><i>(to himself, coming out of the Hostel)</i><br> + I have prepared a most apt Instrument—<br> +The Vagrant must, no doubt, be loitering somewhere<br> +About this ground; she hath a tongue well skilled,<br> +By mingling natural matter of her own<br> +With all the daring fictions I have taught her,<br> +To win belief, such as my plot requires.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exit <b>Oswald</b>.]<br> + <br> +[Enter more Villagers, a Musician among them]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host </i></td> + <td><i>(to them)</i><br> + Into the court, my Friend, and perch yourself<br> +Aloft upon the elm-tree. Pretty Maids,<br> +Garlands and flowers, and cakes and merry thoughts,<br> +Are here, to send the sun into the west<br> +More speedily than you belike would wish.</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<b><i>Scene changes to the Wood adjoining the Hostel—</i></b><br> + <br> +[<i><b>Marmaduke</b> and <b>Oswald</b> entering]</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I would fain hope that we deceive ourselves:<br> +When first I saw him sitting there, alone,<br> +It struck upon my heart I know not how.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>To-day will clear up all.—You marked a Cottage,<br> +That ragged Dwelling, close beneath a rock<br> +By the brook-side: it is the abode of One,<br> +A Maiden innocent till ensnared by Clifford,<br> +Who soon grew weary of her; but, alas!<br> +What she had seen and suffered turned her brain.<br> +Cast off by her Betrayer, she dwells alone,<br> +Nor moves her hands to any needful work:<br> +She eats her food which every day the peasants<br> +Bring to her hut; and so the Wretch has lived<br> +Ten years; and no one ever heard her voice;<br> +But every night at the first stroke of twelve<br> +She quits her house, and, in the neighbouring Churchyard<br> +Upon the self-same spot, in rain or storm,<br> +She paces out the hour 'twixt twelve and one—<br> +She paces round and round an Infant's grave,<br> +And in the Churchyard sod her feet have worn<br> +A hollow ring; they say it is knee-deep—<br> +Ah<a href="#9v2"><sup>2</sup></a>! what is <a name="fr9v2">here</a>?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[A female Beggar rises up, rubbing her eyes as if in sleep— a Child in +her arms.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> O Gentlemen, I thank you;<br> +I've had the saddest dream that ever troubled<br> +The heart of living creature.—My poor Babe<br> +Was crying, as I thought, crying for bread<br> +When I had none to give him; whereupon,<br> +I put a slip of foxglove in his hand,<br> +Which pleased him so, that he was hushed at once:<br> +When, into one of those same spotted bells<br> +A bee came darting, which the Child with joy<br> +Imprisoned there, and held it to his ear,<br> +And suddenly grew black, as he would die.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>We have no time for this, my babbling Gossip;<br> +Here's what will comfort you. <br> +<i>[Gives her money.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> The Saints reward you<br> +For this good deed!—Well, Sirs, this passed away;<br> +And afterwards I fancied, a strange dog,<br> +Trotting alone along the beaten road,<br> +Came to my child as by my side he slept<br> +And, fondling, licked his face, then on a sudden<br> +Snapped fierce to make a morsel of his head:<br> +But here he is, <i>[kissing the Child]</i> it must have been a dream.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>When next inclined to sleep, take my advice,<br> +And put your head, good Woman, under cover.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>Oh, Sir, you would not talk thus, if you knew<br> +What life is this of ours, how sleep will master<br> +The weary-worn.—You gentlefolk have got <br> +Warm chambers to your wish. I'd rather be<br> +A stone than what I am.—But two nights gone,<br> +The darkness overtook me—wind and rain<br> +Beat hard upon my head—and yet I saw<br> +A glow-worm, through the covert of the furze,<br> +Shine calmly as if nothing ailed the sky:<br> +At which I half accused the God in Heaven.—<br> +You must forgive me.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Ay, and if you think<br> +The Fairies are to blame, and you should chide<br> +Your favourite saint—no matter—this good day <br> +Has made amends.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> Thanks to you both; but, Oh Sir!<br> +How would you like to travel on whole hours<br> +As I have done, my eyes upon the ground,<br> +Expecting still, I knew not how, to find<br> +A piece of money glittering through the dust. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>This woman is a prater. Pray, good Lady!<br> +Do you tell fortunes?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> Oh Sir, you are like the rest.<br> +This Little-one—it cuts me to the heart—<br> +Well! they might turn a beggar from their doors,<br> +But there are Mothers who can see the Babe<br> +Here at my breast, and ask me where I bought it:<br> +This they can do, and look upon my face—<br> +But you, Sir, should be kinder.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Come hither, Fathers,<br> +And learn what nature is from this poor Wretch!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>Ay, Sir, there's nobody that feels for us.<br> +Why now—but yesterday I overtook<br> +A blind old Greybeard and accosted him,<br> +I' th' name of all the Saints, and by the Mass<br> +He should have used me better!—Charity!<br> +If you can melt a rock, he is your man;<br> +But I'll be even with him—here again<br> +Have I been waiting for him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Well, but softly,<br> +Who is it that hath wronged you?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> Mark you me;<br> +I'll point him out;—a Maiden is his guide,<br> +Lovely as Spring's first rose; a little dog,<br> +Tied by a woollen cord, moves on before<br> +With look as sad as he were dumb; the cur,<br> +I owe him no ill will, but in good sooth<br> +He does his Master credit.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> As I live,<br> +'Tis Herbert and no other!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> 'Tis a feast to see him,<br> +Lank as a ghost and tall, his shoulders bent,<br> +And long beard white with age—yet evermore,<br> +As if he were the only Saint on earth,<br> +He turns his face to heaven.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> But why so violent<br> +Against this venerable Man?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> I'll tell you: <br> +He has the very hardest heart on earth;<br> +I had as lief turn to the Friar's school<br> +And knock for entrance, in mid holiday.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>But to your story.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> I was saying, Sir—<br> +Well!—he has often spurned me like a toad,<br> +But yesterday was worse than all;—at last<br> +I overtook him, Sirs, my Babe and I,<br> +And begged a little aid for charity:<br> +But he was snappish as a cottage cur.<br> +Well then, says I—I'll out with it; at which <br> +I cast a look upon the Girl, and felt<br> +As if my heart would burst; and so I left him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>I think, good Woman, you are the very person<br> +Whom, but some few days past, I saw in Eskdale,<br> +At Herbert's door.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> Ay; and if truth were known <br> +I have good business there.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> I met you at the threshold,<br> +And he seemed angry.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> Angry! well he might;<br> +And long as I can stir I'll dog him.—Yesterday,<br> +To serve me so, and knowing that he owes<br> +The best of all he has to me and mine. <br> +But 'tis all over now.—That good old Lady<br> +Has left a power of riches; and I say it,<br> +If there's a lawyer in the land, the knave<br> +Shall give me half.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> What's this?—I fear, good Woman,<br> +You have been insolent.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> And there's the Baron,<br> +I spied him skulking in his peasant's dress.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>How say you? in disguise?—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> But what's your business<br> +With Herbert or his Daughter?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> Daughter! truly—<br> +But how's the day?—I fear, my little Boy,<br> +We've overslept ourselves.—Sirs, have you seen him?<br> +<i>[Offers to go.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I must have more of this;—you shall not stir<br> +An inch, till I am answered. Know you aught<br> +That doth concern this Herbert?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> You are provoked,<br> +And will misuse me, Sir!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>No trifling, Woman!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>You are as safe as in a sanctuary;<br> +Speak.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Speak!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>He is a most hard-hearted Man.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Your life is at my mercy.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> Do not harm me,<br> +And I will tell you all!—You know not, Sir,<br> +What strong temptations press upon the Poor.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Speak out.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> Sir, I've been a wicked Woman.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Nay, but speak out!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> He flattered me, and said<br> +What harvest it would bring us both; and so,<br> +I parted with the Child.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><a name="fr9v3">Parted</a> with whom<a href="#9v3"><sup>3</sup></a>?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>Idonea, as he calls her; but the Girl<br> +Is mine.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Yours, Woman! are you Herbert's wife?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>Wife, Sir! his wife—not I; my husband, Sir,<br> +Was of Kirkoswald—many a snowy winter<br> +We've weathered out together. My poor Gilfred!<br> +He has been two years in his grave.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Enough.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>We've solved the riddle—Miscreant!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Do you,<br> +Good Dame, repair to Liddesdale and wait<br> +For my return; be sure you shall have justice.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>A lucky woman!—go, you have done good service.<i>[Aside.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(to himself)</i><br> + Eternal praises on the power that saved her!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(gives her money)</i><br> +Here's for your little boy—and when you christen him<br> +I'll be his Godfather.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> O Sir, you are merry with me.<br> +In grange or farm this Hundred scarcely owns<br> +A dog that does not know me.—These good Folks,<br> +For love of God, I must not pass their doors;<br> +But I'll be back with my best speed: for you—<br> +God bless and thank you both, my gentle Masters.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exit Beggar.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(to himself)</i><br> +The cruel Viper!—Poor devoted Maid,<br> +Now I <i>do</i> love thee.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>I am thunderstruck.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Where is she—holla!<br> + <i> [Calling to the Beggar, who returns; he looks at her stedfastly.]</i><br> + You are Idonea's Mother?—<br> +Nay, be not terrified—it does me good<br> +To look upon you.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(interrupting)</i><br> + In a peasant's dress<br> +You saw, who was it?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td> Nay, I dare not speak;<br> +He is a man, if it should come to his ears<br> +I never shall be heard of more.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Lord Clifford?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>What can I do? believe me, gentle Sirs,<br> +I love her, though I dare not call her daughter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Lord Clifford—did you see him talk with Herbert?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>Yes, to my sorrow—under the great oak<br> +At Herbert's door—and when he stood beside<br> +The blind Man—at the silent Girl he looked<br> +With such a look—it makes me tremble, Sir,<br> +To think of it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Enough! you may depart.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(to himself)</i><br> +Father!—to God himself we cannot give<br> +A holier name; and, under such a mask,<br> +To lead a Spirit, spotless as the blessed,<br> +To that abhorrèd den of brutish vice!—<br> +Oswald, the firm foundation of my life<br> +Is going from under me; these strange discoveries—<br> +Looked at from every point of fear or hope,<br> +Duty, or love—involve, I feel, my ruin.</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">Act II</span><br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—A Chamber in the Hostel.<br> +<br> +Oswald</b> alone, rising from a Table on +which he had been writing.</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>They chose <i>him</i> for their Chief!—what covert part<br> +He, in the preference, modest Youth, might take,<br> +I neither know nor care. The insult bred<br> +More of contempt than hatred; both are flown;<br> +That either e'er existed is my shame:<br> +'Twas a dull spark—a most unnatural fire<br> +That died the moment the air breathed upon it.<br> +—These fools of feeling are mere birds of winter<br> +That haunt some barren island of the north,<br> +Where, if a famishing man stretch forth his hand,<br> +They think it is to feed them. I have left him<br> +To solitary meditation;—now<br> +For a few swelling phrases, and a flash<br> +Of truth, enough to dazzle and to blind,<br> +And he is mine for ever—here he comes.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Marmaduke</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>These ten years she has moved her lips all day<br> +And never speaks!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Who is it?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I have seen her.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Oh! the poor tenant of that ragged homestead,<br> +Her whom the Monster, Clifford, drove to madness.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I met a peasant near the spot; he told me,<br> +These ten years she had sate all day alone<br> +Within those empty walls.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> I too have seen her;<br> +Chancing to pass this way some six months gone,<br> +At midnight, I betook me to the Churchyard:<br> +The moon shone clear, the air was still, so still<br> +The trees were silent as the graves beneath them.<br> +Long did I watch, and saw her pacing round<br> +Upon the self-same spot, still round and round,<br> +Her lips for ever moving.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> At her door<br> +Rooted I stood; for, looking at the woman,<br> +I thought I saw the skeleton of Idonea.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>But the pretended Father—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Earthly law<br> +Measures not crimes like his.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>We</i> rank not, happily,<br> +With those who take the spirit of their rule<br> +From that soft class of devotees who feel<br> +Reverence for life so deeply, that they spare<br> +The verminous brood, and cherish what they spare<br> +While feeding on their bodies. Would that Idonea<br> +Were present, to the end that we might hear<br> +What she can urge in his defence; she loves him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Yes, loves him; 'tis a truth that multiplies<br> +His guilt a thousand-fold.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> 'Tis most perplexing:<br> +What must be done?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>We will conduct her hither;<br> +These walls shall witness it—from first to last<br> +He shall reveal himself.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Happy are we,<br> +Who live in these disputed tracts, that own<br> +No law but what each man makes for himself;<br> +Here justice has indeed a field of triumph.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Let us begone and bring her hither;—here<br> +The truth shall be laid open, his guilt proved<br> +Before her face. The rest be left to me.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>You will be firm: but though we well may trust<br> +The issue to the justice of the cause,<br> +Caution must not be flung aside; remember,<br> +Yours is no common life. Self-stationed here,<br> +Upon these savage confines, we have seen you<br> +Stand like an isthmus 'twixt two stormy seas<br> +That oft have checked their fury at your bidding.<br> +'Mid the deep holds of Solway's mossy waste,<br> +Your single virtue has transformed a Band<br> +Of fierce barbarians into Ministers<br> +Of peace and order. Aged men with tears<br> +Have blessed their steps, the fatherless retire<br> +For shelter to their banners. But it is,<br> +As you must needs have deeply felt, it is<br> +In darkness and in tempest that we seek<br> +The majesty of Him who rules the world.<br> +Benevolence, that has not heart to use<br> +The wholesome ministry of pain and evil,<br> +Becomes at last weak and contemptible.<br> +Your generous qualities have won due praise,<br> +But vigorous Spirits look for something more<br> +Than Youth's spontaneous products; and to-day<br> +You will not disappoint them; and hereafter—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>You are wasting words; hear me then, once for all:<br> +You are a Man—and therefore, if compassion,<br> +Which to our kind is natural as life,<br> +Be known unto you, you will love this Woman,<br> +Even as I do; but I should loathe the light,<br> +If I could think one weak or partial feeling—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>You will forgive me—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> If I ever knew<br> +My heart, could penetrate its inmost core,<br> +'Tis at this moment.—Oswald, I have loved<br> +To be the friend and father of the oppressed,<br> +A comforter of sorrow;—there is something<br> +Which looks like a transition in my soul,<br> +And yet it is not.—Let us lead him hither.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Stoop for a moment; 'tis an act of justice;<br> +And where's the triumph if the delegate<br> +Must fall in the execution of his office?<br> +The deed is done—if you will have it so—<br> +Here where we stand—that tribe of vulgar wretches<br> +(You saw them gathering for the festival)<br> +Rush in—the villains seize us—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Seize!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Yes, they—<br> +Men who are little given to sift and weigh—<br> +Would wreak on us the passion of the moment.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>The cloud will soon disperse—farewell—but stay,<br> +Thou wilt relate the story.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Am I neither<br> +To bear a part in this Man's punishment,<br> +Nor be its witness?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I had many hopes<br> +That were most dear to me, and some will bear<br> +To be transferred to thee.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>When I'm dishonoured!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I would preserve thee. How may this be done?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>By showing that you look beyond the instant.<br> +A few leagues hence we shall have open ground,<br> +And nowhere upon earth is place so fit<br> +To look upon the deed. Before we enter<br> +The barren Moor, hangs from a beetling rock<br> +The shattered Castle in which Clifford oft<br> +Has held infernal orgies—with the gloom,<br> +And very superstition of the place,<br> +Seasoning his wickedness. The Debauchee<br> +Would there perhaps have gathered the first fruits<br> +Of this mock Father's guilt.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter Host conducting <b>Herbert</b>.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host</i></td> + <td>The Baron Herbert<br> +Attends your pleasure.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(to Host)</i><br> + We are ready—<br> + <i> (to <b>Herbert</b>) </i>Sir!<br> +I hope you are refreshed.—I have just written<br> +A notice for your Daughter, that she may know<br> +What is become of you.—You'll sit down and sign it;<br> +'Twill glad her heart to see her father's signature.<br> + <i> [Gives the letter he had written.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Thanks for your care.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Sits down and writes. Exit Host.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(aside to <b>Marmaduke</b>)</i><br> + Perhaps it would be useful<br> +That you too should subscribe your name.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I cannot leave this paper.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[He puts it up, agitated.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(aside)</i><br> + Dastard! Come.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[<b>Marmaduke</b> goes towards <b>Herbert</b> and supports him—<b>Marmaduke</b> + tremblingly beckons <b>Oswald</b> to take his place.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(as he quits <b>Herbert</b>)</i><br> +There is a palsy in his limbs—he shakes.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exeunt <b>Oswald</b> and <b>Herbert</b>—<b>Marmaduke</b> following.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<b><i>Scene changes to a Wood—</i></b><br> +<br> +<i>a Group of Pilgrims, and <b>Idonea</b> with them.</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>First Pilgrim</i></td> + <td>A grove of darker and more lofty shade<br> +I never saw.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Second Pilgrim</i></td> + <td>The music of the birds<br> +Drops deadened from a roof so thick with leaves.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Old Pilgrim</i></td> + <td>This news! It made my heart leap up with joy.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>I scarcely can believe it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Old Pilgrim</i></td> + <td> Myself, I heard<br> +The Sheriff read, in open Court, a letter<br> +Which purported it was the royal pleasure<br> +The Baron Herbert, who, as was supposed,<br> +Had taken refuge in this neighbourhood,<br> +Should be forthwith restored. The hearing, Lady,<br> +Filled my dim eyes with tears.—When I returned<br> +From Palestine, and brought with me a heart,<br> +Though rich in heavenly, poor in earthly, comfort,<br> +I met your Father, then a wandering Outcast:<br> +He had a Guide, a Shepherd's boy; but grieved<br> +He was that One so young should pass his youth<br> +In such sad service; and he parted with him.<br> +We joined our tales of wretchedness together,<br> +And begged our daily bread from door to door.<br> +I talk familiarly to you, sweet Lady!<br> +For once you loved me.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> You shall back with me<br> +And see your Friend again. The good old Man<br> +Will be rejoiced to greet you.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Old Pilgrim</i></td> + <td> It seems but yesterday<br> +That a fierce storm o'ertook us, worn with travel,<br> +In a deep wood remote from any town.<br> +A cave that opened to the road presented<br> +A friendly shelter, and we entered in.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>And I was with you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Old Pilgrim</i></td> + <td> If indeed 'twas you—<br> +But you were then a tottering Little-one—<br> +We sate us down. The sky grew dark and darker:<br> +I struck my flint, and built up a small fire<br> +With rotten boughs and leaves, such as the winds<br> +Of many autumns in the cave had piled.<br> +Meanwhile the storm fell heavy on the woods;<br> +Our little fire sent forth a cheering warmth<br> +And we were comforted, and talked of comfort;<br> +But 'twas an angry night, and o'er our heads<br> +The thunder rolled in peals that would have made<br> +A sleeping man uneasy in his bed.<br> +O Lady, you have need to love your Father.<br> +His voice—methinks I hear it now, his voice<br> +When, after a broad flash that filled the cave,<br> +He said to me, that he had seen his Child,<br> +A face (no cherub's face more beautiful)<br> +Revealed by lustre brought with it from heaven;<br> +And it was you, dear Lady!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> God be praised,<br> +That I have been his comforter till now!<br> +And will be so through every change of fortune<br> +And every sacrifice his peace requires.—<br> +Let us be gone with speed, that he may hear<br> +These joyful tidings from no lips but mine.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exeunt <b>Idonea</b> and Pilgrims.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—The Area of a half-ruined Castle—on one side the entrance to a +dungeon—</b><br> +<br> +<b>Oswald</b> and <b>Marmaduke</b> pacing backwards and forwards.</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>'Tis a wild night.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> I'd give my cloak and bonnet<br> +For sight of a warm fire.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> The wind blows keen;<br> +My hands are numb.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Ha! ha! 'tis nipping cold.<br> + <i> [Blowing his fingers.]</i><br> +I long for news of our brave Comrades; Lacy<br> +Would drive those Scottish Rovers to their dens<br> +If once they blew a horn this side the Tweed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I think I see a second range of Towers;<br> +This castle has another Area—come,<br> +Let us examine it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> 'Tis a bitter night;<br> +I hope Idonea is well housed. That horseman,<br> +Who at full speed swept by us where the wood<br> +Roared in the tempest, was within an ace<br> +Of sending to his grave our precious Charge:<br> +That would have been a vile mischance.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>It would.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Justice had been most cruelly defrauded.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Most cruelly.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> As up the steep we clomb,<br> +I saw a distant fire in the north-east;<br> +I took it for the blaze of Cheviot Beacon:<br> +With proper speed our quarters may be gained<br> +To-morrow evening.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[He looks restlessly towards the mouth of the dungeon.]</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> When, upon the plank,<br> +I had <a name="fr9v4">led</a> him 'cross<a href="#9v4"><sup>4</sup></a> the torrent, his voice blessed me:<br> +You could not hear, for the foam beat the rocks<br> +With deafening noise,—the benediction fell<br> +Back on himself; but changed into a curse.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>As well indeed it might.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> And this you deem<br> +The fittest place?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(aside)</i><br> + He is growing pitiful. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(listening)</i><br> +What an odd moaning that is!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Mighty odd<br> +The wind should pipe a little, while we stand<br> +Cooling our heels in this way!—I'll begin<br> +And count the stars.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(still listening)</i><br> + That dog of his, you are sure,<br> +Could not come after us—he <i>must</i> have perished;<br> +The torrent would have dashed an oak to splinters.<br> +You said you did not like his looks—that he<br> +Would trouble us; if he were here again,<br> +I swear the sight of him would quail me more<br> +Than twenty armies.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>How?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> The old blind Man,<br> +When you had told him the mischance, was troubled<br> +Even to the shedding of some natural tears<br> +Into the torrent over which he hung,<br> +Listening in vain.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>He has a tender heart!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[<b>Oswald</b> offers to go down into the dungeon.]</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>How now, what mean you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Truly, I was going<br> +To waken our stray Baron. Were there not<br> +A farm or dwelling-house within five leagues,<br> +We should deserve to wear a cap and bells,<br> +Three good round years, for playing the fool here<br> +In such a night as this.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Stop, stop.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Perhaps,<br> +You'd better like we should descend together,<br> +And lie down by his side—what say you to it?<br> +Three of us—we should keep each other warm:<br> +I'll answer for it that our four-legged friend<br> +Shall not disturb us; further I'll not engage;<br> +Come, come, for manhood's sake!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> These drowsy shiverings,<br> +This mortal stupor which is creeping over me,<br> +What do they mean? were this my single body<br> +Opposed to armies, not a nerve would tremble:<br> +Why do I tremble now?—Is not the depth<br> +Of this Man's crimes beyond the reach of thought?<br> +And yet, in plumbing the abyss for judgment,<br> +Something I strike upon which turns my mind<br> +Back on herself, I think, again—my breast<br> +Concentres all the terrors of the Universe:<br> +I look at him and tremble like a child.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Is it possible?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> One thing you noticed not:<br> +Just as we left the glen a clap of thunder<br> +Burst on the mountains with hell-rousing force.<br> +This is a time, said he, when guilt may shudder;<br> +But there's a Providence for them who walk<br> +In helplessness, when innocence is with them.<br> +At this audacious blasphemy, I thought<br> +The spirit of vengeance seemed to ride the air.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Why are you not the man you were that moment?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[He draws <b>Marmaduke</b> to the dungeon.]</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>You say he was asleep,—look at this arm,<br> +And tell me if 'tis fit for such a work.<br> +Oswald, Oswald! <br> +<i>[Leans upon <b>Oswald</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>This is some sudden seizure!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>A most strange faintness,—will you hunt me out<br> +A draught of water?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Nay, to see you thus<br> +Moves me beyond my bearing.—I will try<br> +To gain the torrent's brink. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exit <b>Oswald</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> <i>(after a pause)</i><br> + It seems an age<br> +Since that Man left me.—No, I am not lost.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td><i>(at the mouth of the dungeon)</i><br> +Give me your hand; where are you, Friends? and tell me<br> +How goes the night.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> 'Tis hard to measure time,<br> +In such a weary night, and such a place.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>I do not hear the voice of my friend Oswald.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>A minute past, he went to fetch a draught<br> +Of water from the torrent. 'Tis, you'll say,<br> +A cheerless beverage.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> How good it was in you<br> +To stay behind!—Hearing at first no answer,<br> +I was alarmed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> No wonder; this is a place<br> +That well may put some fears into <i>your</i> heart.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Why so? a roofless rock had been a comfort,<br> +Storm-beaten and bewildered as we were;<br> +And in a night like this, to lend your cloaks<br> +To make a bed for me!—My Girl will weep<br> +When she is told of it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> This Daughter of yours<br> +Is very dear to you.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> Oh! but you are young;<br> +Over your head twice twenty years must roll,<br> +With all their natural weight of sorrow and pain,<br> +Ere can be known to you how much a Father<br> +May love his Child.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Thank you, old Man, for this! + <i> [Aside.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Fallen am I, and worn out, a useless Man;<br> +Kindly have you protected me to-night,<br> +And no return have I to make but prayers;<br> +May you in age be blest with such a daughter!—<br> +When from the Holy Land I had returned<br> +Sightless, and from my heritage was driven,<br> +A wretched Outcast—but this strain of thought<br> +Would lead me to talk fondly. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Do not fear;<br> +Your words are precious to my ears; go on.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>You will forgive me, but my heart runs over.<br> +When my old Leader slipped into the flood<br> +And perished, what a piercing outcry you<br> +Sent after him. I have loved you ever since.<br> +You start—where are we?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Oh, there is no danger;<br> +The cold blast struck me.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>'Twas a foolish question.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>But when you were an Outcast?—Heaven is just;<br> +Your piety would not miss its due reward;<br> +The little Orphan then would be your succour,<br> +And do good service, though she knew it not.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>I turned me from the dwellings of my Fathers,<br> +Where none but those who trampled on my rights<br> +Seemed to remember me. To the wide world<br> +I bore her, in my arms; her looks won pity;<br> +She was my Raven in the wilderness,<br> +And brought me food. Have I not cause to love her?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Yes.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>More than ever Parent loved a Child?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Yes, yes.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> I will not murmur, merciful God!<br> +I will not murmur; blasted as I have been,<br> +Thou hast left me ears to hear my Daughter's voice,<br> +And arms to fold her to my heart. Submissively<br> +Thee I adore, and find my rest in faith. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Oswald</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Herbert!—confusion! <i>(aside).</i> <br> + Here it is, my Friend,<br> + <i> [Presents the Horn.]</i><br> +A charming beverage for you to carouse,<br> +This bitter night.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> Ha! Oswald! ten bright crosses<br> +I would have given, not many minutes gone,<br> +To have heard your voice.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Your couch, I fear, good Baron,<br> +Has been but comfortless; and yet that place,<br> +When the tempestuous wind first drove us hither,<br> +Felt warm as a wren's nest. You'd better turn<br> +And under covert rest till break of day,<br> +Or till the storm abate.<br> +<i>(To <b>Marmaduke</b> aside.)</i> He has restored you.<br> +No doubt you have been nobly entertained?<br> +But soft!—how came he forth? The Night-mare Conscience<br> +Has driven him out of harbour?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> I believe<br> +You have guessed right.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> The trees renew their murmur:<br> +Come, let us house together.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[<b>Oswald</b> conducts him to the dungeon.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> <i>(returns)</i> <br> + Had I not<br> +Esteemed you worthy to conduct the affair<br> +To its most fit conclusion, do you think<br> +I would so long have struggled with my Nature,<br> +And smothered all that's man in me?—away!—<br> + <i> [Looking towards the dungeon.]</i><br> +This man's the property of him who best<br> +Can feel his crimes. I have resigned a privilege;<br> +It now becomes my duty to resume it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Touch not a finger—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>What then must be done?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Which way soe'er I turn, I am perplexed.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Now, on my life, I grieve for you. The misery<br> +Of doubt is insupportable. Pity, the facts<br> +Did not admit of stronger evidence;<br> +Twelve honest men, plain men, would set us right;<br> +Their verdict would abolish these weak scruples.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Weak! I am weak—there does my torment lie,<br> +Feeding itself.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Verily, when he said<br> +How his old heart would leap to hear her steps,<br> +You thought his voice the echo of Idonea's.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>And never heard a sound so terrible.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Perchance you think so now?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> I cannot do it:<br> +Twice did I spring to grasp his withered throat,<br> +When such a sudden weakness fell upon me,<br> +I could have dropped asleep upon his breast.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Justice—is there not thunder in the word?<br> +Shall it be law to stab the petty robber<br> +Who aims but at our purse; and shall this Parricide—<br> +Worse is he far, far worse (if foul dishonour<br> +Be worse than death) to that confiding Creature<br> +Whom he to more than filial love and duty<br> +Hath falsely trained—shall he fulfil his purpose?<br> +But you are fallen.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Fallen should I be indeed—<br> +Murder—perhaps asleep, blind, old, alone,<br> +Betrayed, in darkness! Here to strike the blow—<br> +Away! away!— <br> +<br> +<i>[Flings away his sword.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Nay, I have done with you:<br> +We'll lead him to the Convent. He shall live,<br> +And she shall love him. With unquestioned title<br> +He shall be seated in his Barony,<br> +And we too chant the praise of his good deeds.<br> +I now perceive we do mistake our masters,<br> +And most despise the men who best can teach us:<br> +Henceforth it shall be said that bad men only<br> +Are brave: Clifford is brave; and that old Man<br> +Is brave.<br> + <i> [Taking <b>Marmaduke's</b> sword and giving it to him.]</i><br> + To Clifford's arms he would have led<br> +His Victim—haply to this desolate house.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(advancing to the dungeon)</i><br> +It must be ended!—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Softly; do not rouse him;<br> +He will deny it to the last. He lies<br> +Within the Vault, a spear's length to the left.<br> + <i> [<b>Marmaduke</b> descends to the dungeon.]</i><br> +<i>(Alone.)</i> The Villains rose in mutiny to destroy me;<br> +I could have quelled the Cowards, but this Stripling<br> +Must needs step in, and save my life. The look<br> +With which he gave the boon—I see it now!<br> +The same that tempted me to loathe the gift.—<br> +For this old venerable Grey-beard—faith<br> +'Tis his own fault if he hath got a face<br> +Which doth play tricks with them that look on it:<br> +'Twas this that put it in my thoughts—that countenance—<br> +His staff—his figure—Murder!—what, of whom?<br> +We kill a worn-out horse, and who but women<br> +Sigh at the deed? Hew down a withered tree,<br> +And none look grave but dotards. He may live<br> +To thank me for this service. Rainbow arches,<br> +Highways of dreaming passion, have too long,<br> +Young as he is, diverted wish and hope<br> +From the unpretending ground we mortals tread;—<br> +Then shatter the delusion, break it up<br> +And set him free. What follows? I have learned<br> +That things will work to ends the slaves o' the world<br> +Do never dream of. I <i>have</i> been what he—<br> +This Boy—when he comes forth with bloody hands—<br> +Might envy, and am now,—but he shall know<br> +What I am now— <i> [Goes and listens at the dungeon.]</i><br> + Praying or parleying?—tut!<br> +Is he not eyeless? He has been half-dead<br> +These fifteen years—<br><br> + +<i>[Enter female Beggar with two or three of her Companions.]</i><br><br> + +<i>(Turning abruptly.)</i> Ha! speak—what Thing art thou?<br> +<i>(Recognises her.)</i> Heavens! my good friend! <i>[To her.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>Forgive me, gracious Sir!—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(to her companions)</i><br> +Begone, ye Slaves, or I will raise a whirlwind<br> +And send ye dancing to the clouds, like leaves.<br> +<br> + + <i>[They retire affrighted.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>Indeed we meant no harm; we lodge sometimes<br> +In this deserted Castle—<i>I repent me.</i><br> +<br> +<i>[<b>Oswald</b> goes to the dungeon—listens—returns to the Beggar.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Woman, thou hast a helpless Infant—keep<br> +Thy secret for its sake, or verily<br> +That wretched life of thine shall be the forfeit.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>I <i>do</i> repent me, Sir; I fear the curse<br> +Of that blind Man. 'Twas not your money, Sir,—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Begone!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td><i>(going)</i><br> + There is some wicked deed in hand:<br> + <i>[Aside.]</i><br> +Would I could find the old Man and his Daughter.<br> +<br> + + <i> [Exit Beggar.]</i><br> +<br> +<i>[<b>Marmaduke</b> re-enters from the dungeon]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>It is all over then;—your foolish fears<br> +Are hushed to sleep, by your own act and deed,<br> +Made quiet as he is.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Why came you down?<br> +And when I felt your hand upon my arm<br> +And spake to you, why did you give no answer?<br> +Feared you to waken him? he must have been<br> +In a deep sleep. I whispered to him thrice.<br> +There are the strangest echoes in that place!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Tut! let them gabble till the day of doom.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Scarcely, by groping, had I reached the Spot,<br> +When round my wrist I felt a cord drawn tight,<br> +As if the blind Man's dog were pulling at it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>But after that?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> The features of Idonea<br> +Lurked in his face—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> Psha! Never to these eyes<br> +Will retribution show itself again<br> +With aspect so inviting. Why forbid me<br> +To share your triumph?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Yes, her very look,<br> +Smiling in sleep—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>A pretty feat of Fancy!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Though but a glimpse, it sent me to my prayers.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Is he alive?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>What mean you? who alive?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Herbert! since you will have it, Baron Herbert;<br> +He who will gain his Seignory when Idonea<br> +Hath become Clifford's harlot—is <i>he</i> living?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>The old Man in that dungeon <i>is</i> alive.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Henceforth, then, will I never in camp or field<br> +Obey you more. Your weakness, to the Band,<br> +Shall be proclaimed: brave Men, they all shall hear it.<br> +You a protector of humanity!<br> +Avenger you of outraged innocence!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>'Twas dark—dark as the grave; yet did I see,<br> +Saw him—his face turned toward me; and I tell thee<br> +Idonea's filial countenance was there<br> +To baffle me—it put me to my prayers.<br> +Upwards I cast my eyes, and, through a crevice,<br> +Beheld a star twinkling above my head,<br> +And, by the living God, I could not do it.<br> + <i>[Sinks exhausted.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(to himself)</i><br> +Now may I perish if this turn do more<br> +Than make me change my course.<br> +<i>(To <b>Marmaduke</b>.) </i> Dear Marmaduke,<br> +My words were rashly spoken; I recal them:<br> +I feel my error; shedding human blood<br> +Is a most serious thing.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Not I alone,<br> +Thou too art deep in guilt.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> We have indeed<br> +Been most presumptuous. There <i>is</i> guilt in this,<br> +Else could so strong a mind have ever known<br> +These trepidations? Plain it is that Heaven<br> +Has marked out this foul Wretch as one whose crimes<br> +Must never come before a mortal judgment-seat,<br> +Or be chastised by mortal instruments.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>A thought that's worth a thousand worlds!<br> + <br> + + <i> [Goes towards the dungeon.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>I grieve<br> +That, in my zeal, I have caused you so much pain. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Think not of that! 'tis over—we are safe.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(as if to himself, yet speaking aloud)</i><br> +The truth is hideous, but how stifle it?<br> + <i>[Turning to <b>Marmaduke</b>.]</i><br> +Give me your sword—nay, here are stones and fragments,<br> +The least of which would beat out a man's brains;<br> +Or you might drive your head against that wall.<br> +No! this is not the place to hear the tale:<br> +It should be told you pinioned in your bed,<br> +Or on some vast and solitary plain<br> +Blown to you from a trumpet.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Why talk thus?<br> +Whate'er the monster brooding in your breast<br> +I care not: fear I have none, and cannot fear—<br> + <i> [The sound of a horn is heard.]</i><br> +That horn again—'Tis some one of our Troop;<br> +What do they here? Listen!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>What! dogged like thieves!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Wallace</b> and <b>Lacy</b>, etc.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>You are found at last, thanks to the vagrant Troop<br> +For not misleading us.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(looking at <b>Wallace</b>)</i><br> + That subtle Greybeard—<br> +I'd rather see my father's ghost.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td><i>(to <b>Marmaduke</b>)</i> + My Captain,<br> +We come by order of the Band. Belike<br> +You have not heard that Henry has at last<br> +Dissolved the Barons' League, and sent abroad<br> +His Sheriffs with fit force to reinstate<br> +The genuine owners of such Lands and Baronies<br> +As, in these long commotions, have been seized.<br> +His Power is this way tending. It befits us<br> +To stand upon our guard, and with our swords<br> +Defend the innocent.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Lacy! we look<br> +But at the surfaces of things; we hear<br> +Of towns in flames, fields ravaged, young and old<br> +Driven out in troops to want and nakedness;<br> +Then grasp our swords and rush upon a cure<br> +That flatters us, because it asks not thought:<br> +The deeper malady is better hid;<br> +The world is poisoned at the heart.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>What mean you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td><i>(whose eye has been fixed suspiciously upon <b>Oswald</b>)</i><br> +Ay, what is it you mean?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Hark'ee, my Friends;—<br> + <i>[Appearing gay.]</i><br> +Were there a Man who, being weak and helpless<br> +And most forlorn, should bribe a Mother, pressed<br> +By penury, to yield him up her Daughter,<br> +A little Infant, and instruct the Babe,<br> +Prattling upon his knee, to call him Father—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>Why, if his heart be tender, that offence<br> +I could forgive him.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(going on)</i><br> + And should he make the Child<br> +An instrument of falsehood, should he teach her<br> +To stretch her arms, and dim the gladsome light<br> +Of infant playfulness with piteous looks<br> +Of misery that was not—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>Troth, 'tis hard—<br> +But in a world like ours—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(changing his tone)</i><br> + This self-same Man—<br> +Even while he printed kisses on the cheek<br> +Of this poor Babe, and taught its innocent tongue<br> +To lisp the name of Father—could he look<br> +To the unnatural harvest of that time<br> +When he should give her up, a Woman grown,<br> +To him who bid the highest in the market<br> +Of foul pollution—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>The whole visible world<br> +Contains not such a Monster!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> For this purpose<br> +Should he resolve to taint her Soul by means<br> +Which bathe the limbs in sweat to think of them;<br> +Should he, by tales which would draw tears from iron,<br> +Work on her nature, and so turn compassion<br> +And gratitude to ministers of vice,<br> +And make the spotless spirit of filial love<br> +Prime mover in a plot to damn his Victim<br> +Both soul and body—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td>'Tis too horrible;<br> +Oswald, what say you to it?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>Hew him down,<br> +And fling him to the ravens.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>But his aspect<br> +It is so meek, his countenance so venerable.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td><i>(with an appearance of mistrust)</i><br> +But how, what say you, Oswald?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td><i>(at the same moment)</i><br> + Stab him, were it<br> +Before the Altar.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>What, if he were sick,<br> +Tottering upon the very verge of life,<br> +And old, and blind—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>Blind, say you?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(coming forward)</i><br> + Are we Men,<br> +Or own we baby Spirits? Genuine courage<br> +Is not an accidental quality,<br> +A thing dependent for its casual birth<br> +On opposition and impediment.<br> +Wisdom, if Justice speak the word, beats down<br> +The giant's strength; and, at the voice of Justice,<br> +Spares not the worm. The giant and the worm—<br> +She weighs them in one scale. The wiles of woman,<br> +And craft of age, seducing reason, first<br> +Made weakness a protection, and obscured<br> +The moral shapes of things. His tender cries<br> +And helpless innocence—do they protect<br> +The infant lamb? and shall the infirmities,<br> +Which have enabled this enormous Culprit<br> +To perpetrate his crimes, serve as a Sanctuary<br> +To cover him from punishment? Shame!—Justice,<br> +Admitting no resistance, bends alike<br> +The feeble and the strong. She needs not here<br> +Her bonds and chains, which make the mighty feeble.<br> +—We recognise in this old Man a victim<br> +Prepared already for the sacrifice.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>By heaven, his words are reason!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Yes, my Friends,<br> +His countenance is meek and venerable;<br> +And, by the Mass, to see him at his prayers!—<br> +I am of flesh and blood, and may I perish<br> +When my heart does not ache to think of it!—<br> +Poor Victim! not a virtue under heaven<br> +But what was made an engine to ensnare thee;<br> +But yet I trust, Idonea, thou art safe.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>Idonea!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td>How! What? your Idonea?<br> + <i> [To <b>Marmaduke</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>Mine</i>;<br> +But now no longer mine. You know Lord Clifford;<br> +He is the Man to whom the Maiden—pure<br> +As beautiful, and gentle and benign,<br> +And in her ample heart loving even me—<br> +Was to be yielded up.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>Now, by the head<br> +Of my own child, this Man must die; my hand,<br> +A worthier wanting, shall itself entwine<br> +In his grey hairs!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(to <b>Lacy</b>)</i><br> + I love the Father in thee.<br> +You know me, Friends; I have a heart to feel,<br> +And I have felt, more than perhaps becomes me<br> +Or duty sanctions.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>We will have ample justice.<br> +Who are we, Friends? Do we not live on ground<br> +Where Souls are self-defended, free to grow<br> +Like mountain oaks rocked by the stormy wind?<br> +Mark the Almighty Wisdom, which decreed<br> +This monstrous crime to be laid open— _here,_<br> +Where Reason has an eye that she can use,<br> +And Men alone are Umpires. To the Camp <br> +He shall be led, and there, the Country round<br> +All gathered to the spot, in open day<br> +Shall Nature be avenged.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>'Tis nobly thought;<br> +His death will be a monument for ages.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(to <b>Lacy</b>)</i><br> +I thank you for that hint. He shall be brought<br> +Before the Camp, and would that best and wisest<br> +Of every country might be present. There,<br> +His crime shall be proclaimed; and for the rest<br> +It shall be done as Wisdom shall decide:<br> +Meanwhile, do you two hasten back and see<br> +That all is well prepared.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td>We will obey you.<br> +<i>(Aside.)</i> But softly! we must look a little nearer.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Tell where you found us. At some future time<br> +I will explain the cause. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exeunt.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">Act III</span><br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—The door of the Hostel, </b><br> +<br> +a group of Pilgrims as before; <b>Idonea</b> and +the Host among them +</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host</i></td> + <td>Lady, you'll find your Father at the Convent<br> +As I have told you: He left us yesterday<br> +With two Companions; one of them, as seemed,<br> +His most familiar Friend. <i>(Going.)</i> There was a letter<br> +Of which I heard them speak, but that I fancy<br> +Has been forgotten.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td><i>(to Host)</i><br> + Farewell!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Host</i></td> + <td>Gentle pilgrims,<br> +St. Cuthbert speed you on your holy errand.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exeunt <b>Idonea</b> and Pilgrims.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—A desolate Moor.</b><br> +<br> +<b>Oswald</b> alone.</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Carry him to the Camp! Yes, to the Camp.<br> +Oh, Wisdom! a most wise resolve! and then,<br> +That half a word should blow it to the winds!<br> +This last device must end my work.—Methinks<br> +It were a pleasant pastime to construct<br> +A scale and table of belief—as thus—<br> +Two columns, one for passion, one for proof;<br> +Each rises as the other falls: and first,<br> +Passion a unit and <i>against</i> us—proof—<br> +Nay, we must travel in another path,<br> +Or we're stuck fast for ever;—passion, then,<br> +Shall be a unit <i>for</i> us; proof—no, passion!<br> +We'll not insult thy majesty by time,<br> +Person, and place—the where, the when, the how,<br> +And all particulars that dull brains require<br> +To constitute the spiritless shape of Fact,<br> +They bow to, calling the idol, Demonstration.<br> +A whipping to the Moralists who preach<br> +That misery is a sacred thing: for me,<br> +I know no cheaper engine to degrade a man,<br> +Nor any half so sure. This Stripling's mind<br> +Is shaken till the dregs float on the surface;<br> +And, in the storm and anguish of the heart, <br> +He talks of a transition in his Soul,<br> +And dreams that he is happy. We dissect<br> +The senseless body, and why not the mind?—<br> +These are strange sights—the mind of man, upturned,<br> +Is in all natures a strange spectacle;<br> +In some a hideous one—hem! shall I stop?<br> +No.—Thoughts and feelings will sink deep, but then<br> +They have no substance. Pass but a few minutes,<br> +And something shall be done which Memory<br> +May touch, whene'er her Vassals are at work.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Marmaduke</b>, from behind]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(turning to meet him)</i><br> +But listen, for my peace—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Why, I <i>believe</i> you.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>But hear the proofs—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td> Ay, prove that when two peas<br> +Lie snugly in a pod, the pod must then<br> +Be larger than the peas—prove this—'twere matter<br> +Worthy the hearing. Fool was I to dream <br> +It ever could be otherwise!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Last night<br> +When I returned with water from the brook,<br> +I overheard the Villains—every word<br> +Like red-hot iron burnt into my heart.<br> +Said one, "It is agreed on. The blind Man<br> +Shall feign a sudden illness, and the Girl,<br> +Who on her journey must proceed alone,<br> +Under pretence of violence, be seized.<br> +She is," continued the detested Slave,<br> +"She is right willing—strange if she were not!—<br> +They say, Lord Clifford is a savage man;<br> +But, faith, to see him in his silken tunic,<br> +Fitting his low voice to the minstrel's harp,<br> +There's witchery in't. I never knew a maid<br> +That could withstand it. True," continued he,<br> +"When we arranged the affair, she wept a little<br> +(Not the less welcome to my Lord for that)<br> +And said, 'My Father he will have it so.'"</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I am your hearer.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>This I caught, and more<br> +That may not be retold to any ear.<br> +The obstinate bolt of a small iron door<br> +Detained them near the gateway of the Castle.<br> +By a dim lantern's light I saw that wreaths<br> +Of flowers were in their hands, as if designed<br> +For festive decoration; and they said,<br> +With brutal laughter and most foul allusion,<br> +That they should share the banquet with their Lord<br> +And his new Favorite.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Misery!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>I knew<br> +How you would be disturbed by this dire news,<br> +And therefore chose this solitary Moor,<br> +Here to impart the tale, of which, last night,<br> +I strove to ease my mind, when our two Comrades,<br> +Commissioned by the Band, burst in upon us.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Last night, when moved to lift the avenging steel,<br> +I did believe all things were shadows—yea,<br> +Living or dead all things were bodiless,<br> +Or but the mutual mockeries of body,<br> +Till that same star summoned me back again.<br> +Now I could laugh till my ribs ached. Fool!<br> +To let a creed, built in the heart of things,<br> +Dissolve before a twinkling atom!—Oswald,<br> +I could fetch lessons out of wiser schools<br> +Than you have entered, were it worth the pains.<br> +Young as I am, I might go forth a teacher,<br> +And you should see how deeply I could reason<br> +Of love in all its shapes, beginnings, ends;<br> +Of moral qualities in their diverse aspects;<br> +Of actions, and their laws and tendencies.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>You take it as it merits—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>One a King,<br> +General or Cham, Sultan or Emperor,<br> +Strews twenty acres of good meadow-ground<br> +With carcases, in lineament and shape<br> +And substance, nothing differing from his own,<br> +But that they cannot stand up of themselves;<br> +Another sits i' th' sun, and by the hour<br> +Floats kingcups in the brook—a Hero one<br> +We call, and scorn the other as Time's spendthrift;<br> +But have they not a world of common ground<br> +To occupy—both fools, or wise alike,<br> +Each in his way?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Troth, I begin to think so.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Now for the corner-stone of my philosophy:<br> +I would not give a denier for the man<br> +Who, on such provocation as this earth<br> +Yields, could not chuck his babe beneath the chin,<br> +And send it with a fillip to its grave.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Nay, you leave me behind.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>That such a One,<br> +So pious in demeanour! in his look<br> +So saintly and so pure!—Hark'ee, my Friend,<br> +I'll plant myself before Lord Clifford's Castle,<br> +A surly mastiff kennels at the gate, <br> +And he shall howl and I will laugh, a medley<br> +Most tunable.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>In faith, a pleasant scheme;<br> +But take your sword along with you, for that<br> +Might in such neighbourhood find seemly use.—<br> +But first, how wash our hands of this old Man? </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Oh yes, that mole, that viper in the path;<br> +Plague on my memory, him I had forgotten.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>You know we left him sitting—see him yonder.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Ha! ha!—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>As 'twill be but a moment's work,<br> +I will stroll on; you follow when 'tis done. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exeunt.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene changes to another part of the Moor at a short distance—</b><br> +<br> +<b>Herbert</b> +is discovered seated on a stone.<br> +</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>A sound of laughter, too!—'tis well—I feared,<br> +The Stranger had some pitiable sorrow<br> +Pressing upon his solitary heart.<br> +Hush!—'tis the feeble and earth-loving wind<br> +That creeps along the bells of the crisp heather. <br> +Alas! 'tis cold—I shiver in the sunshine—<br> +What can this mean? There is a psalm that speaks<br> +Of God's parental mercies—with Idonea<br> +I used to sing it.—Listen!—what foot is there? +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Marmaduke</b>]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(aside—looking at <b>Herbert</b>)</i><br> +And I have loved this Man! and <i>she</i> hath loved him! <br> +And I loved her, and she loves the Lord Clifford!<br> +And there it ends;—if this be not enough<br> +To make mankind merry for evermore,<br> +Then plain it is as day, that eyes were made<br> +For a wise purpose—verily to weep with! <br> +<i>[Looking round.]</i><br> +A pretty prospect this, a masterpiece<br> +Of Nature, finished with most curious skill!<br> +<i>(To <b>Herbert</b>.)</i> Good Baron, have you ever practised tillage?<br> +Pray tell me what this land is worth by the acre?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>How glad I am to hear your voice! I know not <br> +Wherein I have offended you;—last night<br> +I found in you the kindest of Protectors;<br> +This morning, when I spoke of weariness,<br> +You from my shoulder took my scrip and threw it<br> +About your own; but for these two hours past <br> +Once only have you spoken, when the lark<br> +Whirred from among the fern beneath our feet,<br> +And I, no coward in my better days,<br> +Was almost terrified.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>That's excellent!—<br> +So, you bethought you of the many ways <br> +In which a man may come to his end, whose crimes<br> +Have roused all Nature up against him—pshaw!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>For mercy's sake, is nobody in sight?<br> +No traveller, peasant, herdsman?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Not a soul:<br> +Here is a tree, raggèd, and bent, and bare, <br> +That turns its goat's-beard flakes of pea-green moss<br> +From the stern breathing of the rough sea-wind;<br> +This have we, but no other company:<br> +Commend me to the place. If a man should die<br> +And leave his body here, it were all one <br> +As he were twenty fathoms underground.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Where is our common Friend?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>A ghost, methinks—<br> +The Spirit of a murdered man, for instance—<br> +Might have fine room to ramble about here,<br> +A grand domain to squeak and gibber in.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Lost Man! if thou have any close-pent guilt<br> +Pressing upon thy heart, and this the hour<br> +Of visitation—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>A bold word from <i>you</i>!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Restore him, Heaven!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>The desperate Wretch!—A Flower,<br> +Fairest of all flowers, was she once, but now<br> +They have snapped her from the stem—Poh! let her lie<br> +Besoiled with mire, and let the houseless snail<br> +Feed on her leaves. You knew her well—ay, there,<br> +Old Man! you were a very Lynx, you knew<br> +The worm was in her—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Mercy! Sir, what mean you? </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>You have a Daughter!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Oh that she were here!—<br> +She hath an eye that sinks into all hearts,<br> +And if I have in aught offended you,<br> +Soon would her gentle voice make peace between us.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I do believe he weeps—I could weep too— <br> +There is a vein of her voice that runs through his:<br> +Even such a Man my fancy bodied forth<br> +From the first moment that I loved the Maid;<br> +And for his sake I loved her more: these tears—<br> +I did not think that aught was left in me <br> +Of what I have been—yes, I thank thee, Heaven!<br> +One happy thought has passed across my mind.<br> +—It may not be—I am cut off from man;<br> +No more shall I be man—no more shall I<br> +Have human feelings!—<i>(To <b>Herbert</b>)-</i>-Now, for a little more <br> +About your Daughter!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Troops of armed men,<br> +Met in the roads, would bless us; little children,<br> +Rushing along in the full tide of play,<br> +Stood silent as we passed them! I have heard<br> +The boisterous carman, in the miry road,<br> +Check his loud whip and hail us with mild voice,<br> +And speak with milder voice to his poor beasts.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>And whither were you going? </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td> Learn, young Man,—<br> +To fear the virtuous, and reverence misery,<br> +Whether too much for patience, or, like mine, <br> +Softened till it becomes a gift of mercy.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Now, this is as it should be!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>I am weak!—<br> +My Daughter does not know how weak I am;<br> +And, as thou see'st, under the arch of heaven<br> +Here do I stand, alone, to helplessness, <br> +By the good God, our common Father, doomed!—<br> +But I had once a spirit and an arm—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Now, for a word about your Barony:<br> +I fancy when you left the Holy Land,<br> +And came to—what's your title—eh? your claims <br> +Were undisputed!</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Like a mendicant,<br> +Whom no one comes to meet, I stood alone;—<br> +I murmured—but, remembering Him who feeds<br> +The pelican and ostrich of the desert,<br> +From my own threshold I looked up to Heaven <br> +And did not want glimmerings of quiet hope.<br> +So, from the court I passed, and down the brook,<br> +Led by its murmur, to the ancient oak<br> +I came; and when I felt its cooling shade,<br> +I sate me down, and cannot but believe—<br> +While in my lap I held my little Babe<br> +And clasped her to my heart, my heart that ached<br> +More with delight than grief—I heard a voice<br> +Such as by Cherith on Elijah called;<br> +It said, "I will be with thee." A little boy,<br> +A shepherd-lad, ere yet my trance was gone,<br> +Hailed us as if he had been sent from heaven,<br> +And said, with tears, that he would be our guide:<br> +I had a better guide—that innocent Babe—<br> +Her, who hath saved me, to this hour, from harm,<br> +From cold, from hunger, penury, and death;<br> +To whom I owe the best of all the good<br> +I have, or wish for, upon earth—and more<br> +And higher far than lies within earth's bounds:<br> +Therefore I bless her: when I think of Man,<br> +I bless her with sad spirit,—when of God,<br> +I bless her in the fulness of my joy!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>The name of daughter in his mouth, he prays!<br> +With nerves so steady, that the very flies<br> +Sit unmolested on his staff.—Innocent!—<br> +If he were innocent—then he would tremble<br> +And be disturbed, as I am.<i> (Turning aside.)</i> I have read<br> +In Story, what men now alive have witnessed,<br> +How, when the People's mind was racked with doubt,<br> +Appeal was made to the great Judge: the Accused<br> +With naked feet walked over burning ploughshares.<br> +Here is a Man by Nature's hand prepared<br> +For a like trial, but more merciful.<br> +Why else have I been led to this bleak Waste?<br> +Bare is it, without house or track, and destitute<br> +Of obvious shelter, as a shipless sea.<br> +Here will I leave him—here—All-seeing God!<br> +Such as <i>he</i> is, and sore perplexed as I am,<br> +I will commit him to this final <i>Ordeal</i>!—<br> +He heard a voice—a shepherd-lad came to him<br> +And was his guide; if once, why not again,<br> +And in this desert? If never—then the whole<br> +Of what he says, and looks, and does, and is,<br> +Makes up one damning falsehood. Leave him here<br> +To cold and hunger!—Pain is of the heart,<br> +And what are a few throes of bodily suffering<br> +If they can waken one pang of remorse?<br> + <i>[Goes up to <b>Herbert</b>.]</i><br> +Old Man! my wrath is as a flame burnt out,<br> +It cannot be rekindled. Thou art here<br> +Led by my hand to save thee from perdition:<br> +Thou wilt have time to breathe and think—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>Oh, Mercy!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I know the need that all men have of mercy,<br> +And therefore leave thee to a righteous judgment.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>My Child, my blessèd Child!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>No more of that;<br> +Thou wilt have many guides if thou art innocent;<br> +Yea, from the utmost corners of the earth,<br> +That Woman will come o'er this Waste to save thee.<br> + <i> [He pauses and looks at <b>Herbert's</b> staff.]</i><br> +Ha! what is here? and carved by her own hand!<br> + <i>[Reads upon the staff.]</i><br> +"I am eyes to the blind, saith the Lord.<br> +He that puts his trust in me shall not fail!"<br> +Yes, be it so;—repent and be forgiven—<br> +God and that staff are now thy only guides.<br><br> + + <i>[He leaves <b>Herbert</b> on the Moor.]</i> +</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—an Eminence, A Beacon On The Summit</b><br> +<br> +<b>Lacy</b>, <b>Wallace</b>, <b>Lennox</b>, Etc. Etc.</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Several of the Band</i></td> + <td><i> (confusedly)</i><br> + But patience!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>One of the Band</i></td> + <td>Curses on that Traitor, Oswald!—<br> +Our Captain made a prey to foul device!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lennox (to Wallace)</i></td> + <td>His tool, the wandering Beggar, made last night<br> +A plain confession, such as leaves no doubt,<br> +Knowing what otherwise we know too well,<br> +That she revealed the truth. Stand by me now;<br> +For rather would I have a nest of vipers<br> +Between my breast-plate and my skin, than make<br> +Oswald my special enemy, if you<br> +Deny me your support.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>We have been fooled—<br> +But for the motive?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td>Natures such as his<br> +Spin motives out of their own bowels, Lacy!<br> +I learn'd this when I was a Confessor.<br> +I know him well; there needs no other motive<br> +Than that most strange incontinence in crime<br> +Which haunts this Oswald. Power is life to him<br> +And breath and being; where he cannot govern,<br> +He will destroy.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>To have been trapped like moles!—<br> +Yes, you are right, we need not hunt for motives:<br> +There is no crime from which this man would shrink;<br> +He recks not human law; and I have noticed<br> +That often when the name of God is uttered,<br> +A sudden blankness overspreads his face.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lennox</i></td> + <td>Yet, reasoner as he is, his pride has built<br> +Some uncouth superstition of its own. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td>I have seen traces of it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lennox</i></td> + <td>Once he headed<br> +A band of Pirates in the Norway seas;<br> +And when the King of Denmark summoned him<br> +To the oath of fealty, I well remember,<br> +'Twas a strange answer that he made; he said,<br> +"I hold of Spirits, and the Sun in heaven."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>He is no madman.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td>A most subtle doctor<br> +Were that man, who could draw the line that parts<br> +Pride and her daughter, Cruelty, from Madness,<br> +That should be scourged, not pitied. Restless Minds,<br> +Such Minds as find amid their fellow-men<br> +No heart that loves them, none that they can love,<br> +Will turn perforce and seek for sympathy<br> +In dim relation to imagined Beings.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>One of the Band</i></td> + <td>What if he mean to offer up our Captain<br> +An expiation and a sacrifice<br> +To those infernal fiends!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td>Now, if the event<br> +Should be as Lennox has foretold, then swear,<br> +My Friends, his heart shall have as many wounds<br> +As there are daggers here.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>What need of swearing!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>One of the Band</i></td> + <td>Let us away!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Another</i></td> + <td>Away!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>A Third</i></td> + <td>Hark! how the horns<br> +Of those Scotch Rovers echo through the vale.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Lacy</i></td> + <td>Stay you behind; and when the sun is down,<br> +Light up this beacon.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>One of the Band</i></td> + <td>You shall be obeyed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[They go out together.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—The Wood on the edge of the Moor.</b><br> +<br> +<b>Marmaduke</b> (alone)</i><br> +<br> +<br> + +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Deep, deep and vast, vast beyond human thought,<br> +Yet calm.—I could believe, that there was here<br> +The only quiet heart on earth. In terror,<br> +Remembered terror, there is peace and rest.<br> +<br> +<i>[Enter <b>Oswald</b>]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Ha! my dear Captain.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>A later meeting, Oswald,<br> +Would have been better timed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Alone, I see;<br> +You have done your duty. I had hopes, which now<br> +I feel that you will justify.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I had fears,<br> +From which I have freed myself—but 'tis my wish<br> +To be alone, and therefore we must part.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Nay, then—I am mistaken. There's a weakness<br> +About you still; you talk of solitude—<br> +I am your friend.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>What need of this assurance<br> +At any time? and why given now?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Because<br> +You are now in truth my Master; you have taught me<br> +What there is not another living man<br> +Had strength to teach;—and therefore gratitude<br> +Is bold, and would relieve itself by praise.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Wherefore press this on me?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Because I feel<br> +That you have shown, and by a signal instance,<br> +How they who would be just must seek the rule<br> +By diving for it into their own bosoms.<br> +To-day you have thrown off a tyranny<br> +That lives but in the torpid acquiescence<br> +Of our emasculated souls, the tyranny<br> +Of the world's masters, with the musty rules<br> +By which they uphold their craft from age to age:<br> +You have obeyed the only law that sense<br> +Submits to recognise; the immediate law,<br> +From the clear light of circumstances, flashed<br> +Upon an independent Intellect.<br> +Henceforth new prospects open on your path;<br> +Your faculties should grow with the demand;<br> +I still will be your friend, will cleave to you<br> +Through good and evil, obloquy and scorn,<br> +Oft as they dare to follow on your steps.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I would be left alone.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(exultingly)</i><br> + I know your motives!<br> +I am not of the world's presumptuous judges,<br> +Who damn where they can neither see nor feel,<br> +With a hard-hearted ignorance; your struggles<br> +I witness'd, and now hail your victory.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Spare me awhile that greeting.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>It may be,<br> +That some there are, squeamish half-thinking cowards,<br> +Who will turn pale upon you, call you murderer,<br> +And you will walk in solitude among them.<br> +A mighty evil for a strong-built mind!—<br> +Join twenty tapers of unequal height<br> +And light them joined, and you will see the less<br> +How 'twill burn down the taller; and they all<br> +Shall prey upon the tallest. Solitude!—<br> +The Eagle lives in Solitude!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Even so,<br> +The Sparrow so on the house-top, and I,<br> +The weakest of God's creatures, stand resolved<br> +To abide the issue of my act, alone.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>Now</i> would you? and for ever?—My young Friend,<br> +As time advances either we become<br> +The prey or masters of our own past deeds.<br> +Fellowship we <i>must</i> have, willing or no;<br> +And if good Angels fail, slack in their duty,<br> +Substitutes, turn our faces where we may,<br> +Are still forthcoming; some which, though they bear<br> +Ill names, can render no ill services,<br> +In recompense for what themselves required.<br> +So meet extremes in this mysterious world,<br> +And opposites thus melt into each other.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Time, since Man first drew breath, has never moved<br> +With such a weight upon his wings as now;<br> +But they will soon be lightened.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Ay, look up—<br> +Cast round you your mind's eye, and you will learn<br> +Fortitude is the child of Enterprise:<br> +Great actions move our admiration, chiefly<br> +Because they carry in themselves an earnest<br> +That we can suffer greatly.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Very true.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Action is transitory—a step, a blow,<br> +The motion of a muscle—this way or that—<br> +'Tis done, and in the after-vacancy<br> +We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed:<br> +Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark,<br> +And shares the nature of infinity.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Truth—and I feel it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>What! if you had bid<br> +Eternal farewell to unmingled joy<br> +And the light dancing of the thoughtless heart;<br> +It is the toy of fools, and little fit<br> +For such a world as this. The wise abjure<br> +All thoughts whose idle composition lives<br> +In the entire forgetfulness of pain.<br> +—I see I have disturbed you.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>By no means.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Compassion!—pity!—pride can do without them;<br> +And what if you should never know them more!— <br> +He is a puny soul who, feeling pain,<br> +Finds ease because another feels it too.<br> +If e'er I open out this heart of mine<br> +It shall be for a nobler end—to teach<br> +And not to purchase puling sympathy. <br> +—Nay, you are pale. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>It may be so.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Remorse—<br> +It cannot live with thought; think on, think on,<br> +And it will die. What! in this universe,<br> +Where the least things control the greatest, where<br> +The faintest breath that breathes can move a world;<br> +What! feel remorse, where, if a cat had sneezed,<br> +A leaf had fallen, the thing had never been<br> +Whose very shadow gnaws us to the vitals.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Now, whither are you wandering? That a man<br> +So used to suit his language to the time,<br> +Should thus so widely differ from himself—<br> +It is most strange.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Murder!—what's in the word!—<br> +I have no cases by me ready made<br> +To fit all deeds. Carry him to the Camp!—<br> +A shallow project;—you of late have seen<br> +More deeply, taught us that the institutes<br> +Of Nature, by a cunning usurpation<br> +Banished from human intercourse, exist<br> +Only in our relations to the brutes<br> +That make the fields their dwelling. If a snake<br> +Crawl from beneath our feet we do not ask<br> +A license to destroy him: our good governors<br> +Hedge in the life of every pest and plague<br> +That bears the shape of man; and for what purpose,<br> +But to protect themselves from extirpation?—<br> +This flimsy barrier you have overleaped.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>My Office is fulfilled—the Man is now<br> +Delivered to the Judge of all things.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Dead!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I have borne my burthen to its destined end.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>This instant we'll return to our Companions—<br> +Oh how I long to see their faces again!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Idonea</b> with Pilgrims who continue their journey.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td><i>(after some time)</i><br> +What, Marmaduke! now thou art mine for ever.<br> +And Oswald, too!<i> (To <b>Marmaduke</b>.)</i> On will we to my Father<br> +With the glad tidings which this day hath brought;<br> +We'll go together, and, such proof received<br> +Of his own rights restored, his gratitude<br> +To God above will make him feel for ours.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>I interrupt you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Think not so.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Idonea,<br> +That I should ever live to see this moment!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Forgive me.—Oswald knows it all—he knows,<br> +Each word of that unhappy letter fell<br> +As a blood drop from my heart.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td> 'Twas even so.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I have much to say, but for whose ear?—not thine.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Ill can I bear that look—Plead for me, Oswald!<br> +You are my Father's Friend.<br> +<i>(To <b>Marmaduke</b>.) </i> Alas, you know not,<br> +And never <i>can</i> you know, how much he loved me.<br> +Twice had he been to me a father, twice<br> +Had given me breath, and was I not to be<br> +His daughter, once his daughter? could I withstand<br> +His pleading face, and feel his clasping arms,<br> +And hear his prayer that I would not forsake him<br> +In his old age— <br> +<i> [Hides her face.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Patience—Heaven grant me patience!—<br> +She weeps, she weeps—<i>my</i> brain shall burn for hours<br> +Ere <i>I</i> can shed a tear.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>I was a woman;<br> +And, balancing the hopes that are the dearest<br> +To womankind with duty to my Father,<br> +I yielded up those precious hopes, which nought<br> +On earth could else have wrested from me;—if erring,<br> +Oh let me be forgiven!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I <i>do</i> forgive thee.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>But take me to your arms—this breast, alas!<br> +It throbs, and you have a heart that does not feel it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(exultingly)</i><br> +She is innocent. <br> +<i>[He embraces her.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(aside)</i><br> + Were I a Moralist,<br> +I should make wondrous revolution here;<br> +It were a quaint experiment to show<br> +The beauty of truth— <i> [Addressing them.]</i><br> + I see I interrupt you;<br> +I shall have business with you, Marmaduke;<br> +Follow me to the Hostel. <br> +<i>[Exit <b>Oswald</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Marmaduke,<br> +This is a happy day. My Father soon<br> +Shall sun himself before his native doors;<br> +The lame, the hungry, will be welcome there.<br> +No more shall he complain of wasted strength,<br> +Of thoughts that fail, and a decaying heart;<br> +His good works will be balm and life to him.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>This is most strange!—I know not what it was,<br> +But there was something which most plainly said,<br> +That thou wert innocent.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>How innocent!—<br> +Oh heavens! you've been deceived.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Thou art a Woman<br> +To bring perdition on the universe.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Already I've been punished to the height<br> +Of my offence. <i>[Smiling affectionately.]</i><br> + I see you love me still,<br> +The labours of my hand are still your joy;<br> +Bethink you of the hour when on your shoulder<br> +I hung this belt.<br> + <i> [Pointing to the belt on which was suspended <b>Herbert's</b> scrip.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Mercy of Heaven! <i> [Sinks.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>What ails you? [Distractedly.]</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>The scrip that held his food, and I forgot<br> +To give it back again!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>What mean your words?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I know not what I said—all may be well.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>That smile hath life in it!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>This road is perilous;<br> +I will attend you to a Hut that stands <br> +Near the wood's edge—rest there to-night, I pray you:<br> +For me, I have business, as you heard, with Oswald,<br> +But will return to you by break of day. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exeunt.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">Act IV</span><br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—A desolate prospect—a ridge of rocks—a Chapel on the summit of +one—Moon behind the rocks— night stormy—irregular sound of a +bell</b>—<br> +<br> +<b>Herbert</b> enters exhausted.</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td>That Chapel-bell in mercy seemed to guide me,<br> +But now it mocks my steps; its fitful stroke<br> +Can scarcely be the work of human hands.<br> +Hear me, ye Men, upon the cliffs, if such<br> +There be who pray nightly before the Altar. <br> +Oh that I had but strength to reach the place!<br> +My Child—my Child—dark—dark—I faint—this wind—<br> +These stifling blasts—God help me!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Eldred</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Better this bare rock,<br> +Though it were tottering over a man's head,<br> +Than a tight case of dungeon walls for shelter<br> +From such rough dealing. <br> +<i>[A moaning voice is heard.]</i><br> + Ha! what sound is that?<br> +Trees creaking in the wind (but none are here)<br> +Send forth such noises—and that weary bell!<br> +Surely some evil Spirit abroad to-night<br> +Is ringing it—'twould stop a Saint in prayer, <br> +And that—what is it? never was sound so like<br> +A human groan. Ha! what is here? Poor Man—<br> +Murdered! alas! speak—speak, I am your friend:<br> +No answer—hush—lost wretch, he lifts his hand<br> +And lays it to his heart—(<i>Kneels to him.)</i> I pray you speak! <br> +What has befallen you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Herbert</i></td> + <td><i>(feebly)</i><br> + A stranger has done this,<br> +And in the arms of a stranger I must die.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Nay, think not so: come, let me raise you up:<br> + <i> [Raises him.]</i><br> +This is a dismal place—well—that is well—<br> +I was too fearful—take me for your guide<br> +And your support—my hut is not far off.<br> + <i> [Draws him gently off the stage.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—A room in the Hostel—</b><br> +<br> +<b>Marmaduke</b> and <b>Oswald</b></i><br> +<br> +<br> + +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>But for Idonea!—I have cause to think<br> +That she is innocent.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Leave that thought awhile,<br> +As one of those beliefs which in their hearts<br> +Lovers lock up as pearls, though oft no better<br> +Than feathers clinging to their points of passion.<br> +This day's event has laid on me the duty<br> +Of opening out my story; you must hear it,<br> +And without further preface.—In my youth,<br> +Except for that abatement which is paid <br> +By envy as a tribute to desert,<br> +I was the pleasure of all hearts, the darling<br> +Of every tongue—as you are now. You've heard<br> +That I embarked for Syria. On our voyage<br> +Was hatched among the crew a foul Conspiracy<br> +Against my honour, in the which our Captain<br> +Was, I believed, prime Agent. The wind fell;<br> +We lay becalmed week after week, until<br> +The water of the vessel was exhausted;<br> +I felt a double fever in my veins,<br> +Yet rage suppressed itself;—to a deep stillness<br> +Did my pride tame my pride;—for many days,<br> +On a dead sea under a burning sky,<br> +I brooded o'er my injuries, deserted<br> +By man and nature;—if a breeze had blown,<br> +It might have found its way into my heart,<br> +And I had been—no matter—do you mark me?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Quick—to the point—if any untold crime<br> +Doth haunt your memory.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Patience, hear me further!—<br> +One day in silence did we drift at noon<br> +By a bare rock, narrow, and white, and bare;<br> +No food was there, no drink, no grass, no shade,<br> +No tree, nor jutting eminence, nor form<br> +Inanimate large as the body of man,<br> +Nor any living thing whose lot of life<br> +Might stretch beyond the measure of one moon.<br> +To dig for water on the spot, the Captain<br> +Landed with a small troop, myself being one:<br> +There I reproached him with his treachery.<br> +Imperious at all times, his temper rose;<br> +He struck me; and that instant had I killed him,<br> +And put an end to his insolence, but my Comrades<br> +Rushed in between us: then did I insist<br> +(All hated him, and I was stung to madness)<br> +That we should leave him there, alive!—we did so.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>And he was famished?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Naked was the spot;<br> +Methinks I see it now—how in the sun<br> +Its stony surface glittered like a shield;<br> +And in that miserable place we left him,<br> +Alone but for a swarm of minute creatures <br> +Not one of which could help him while alive,<br> +Or mourn him dead.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>A man by men cast off,<br> +Left without burial! nay, not dead nor dying,<br> +But standing, walking, stretching forth his arms,<br> +In all things like ourselves, but in the agony<br> +With which he called for mercy; and—even so—<br> +He was forsaken?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>There is a power in sounds:<br> +The cries he uttered might have stopped the boat<br> +That bore us through the water—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>You returned<br> +Upon that dismal hearing—did you not?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Some scoffed at him with hellish mockery,<br> +And laughed so loud it seemed that the smooth sea<br> +Did from some distant region echo us.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>We all are of one blood, our veins are filled<br> +At the same poisonous fountain!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>'Twas an island<br> +Only by sufferance of the winds and waves,<br> +Which with their foam could cover it at will.<br> +I know not how he perished; but the calm,<br> +The same dead calm, continued many days.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>But his own crime had brought on him this doom,<br> + His wickedness prepared it; these expedients<br> + Are terrible, yet ours is not the fault.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>The man was famished, and was innocent!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Impossible!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>The man had never wronged me.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Banish the thought, crush it, and be at peace.<br> +His guilt was marked—these things could never be<br> +Were there not eyes that see, and for good ends,<br> +Where ours are baffled.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>I had been deceived.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>And from that hour the miserable man<br> +No more was heard of?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>I had been betrayed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>And he found no deliverance!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>The Crew<br> +Gave me a hearty welcome; they had laid<br> +The plot to rid themselves, at any cost,<br> +Of a tyrannic Master whom they loathed.<br> +So we pursued our voyage: when we landed,<br> +The tale was spread abroad; my power at once<br> +Shrunk from me; plans and schemes, and lofty hopes—<br> +All vanished. I gave way—do you attend?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>The Crew deceived you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Nay, command yourself.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>It is a dismal night—how the wind howls!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>I hid my head within a Convent, there<br> +Lay passive as a dormouse in mid winter.<br> +That was no life for me—I was o'erthrown<br> +But not destroyed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>The proofs—you ought to have seen<br> +The guilt—have touched it—felt it at your heart—<br> +As I have done.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>A fresh tide of Crusaders<br> +Drove by the place of my retreat: three nights<br> +Did constant meditation dry my blood;<br> +Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,<br> +Through words and things, a dim and perilous way;<br> +And, wheresoe'er I turned me, I beheld<br> +A slavery compared to which the dungeon<br> +And clanking chains are perfect liberty.<br> +You understand me—I was comforted;<br> +I saw that every possible shape of action <br> +Might lead to good—I saw it and burst forth<br> +Thirsting for some of those exploits that fill<br> +The earth for sure redemption of lost peace.<br> + <i> [Marking <b>Marmaduke's</b> countenance.]</i><br> +Nay, you have had the worst. Ferocity<br> +Subsided in a moment, like a wind<br> +That drops down dead out of a sky it vexed.<br> +And yet I had within me evermore<br> +A salient spring of energy; I mounted<br> +From action up to action with a mind<br> +That never rested—without meat or drink<br> +Have I lived many days—my sleep was bound<br> +To purposes of reason—not a dream<br> +But had a continuity and substance<br> +That waking life had never power to give.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>O wretched Human-kind!—Until the mystery<br> +Of all this world is solved, well may we envy<br> +The worm, that, underneath a stone whose weight<br> +Would crush the lion's paw with mortal anguish,<br> +Doth lodge, and feed, and coil, and sleep, in safety.<br> +Fell not the wrath of Heaven upon those traitors?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Give not to them a thought. From Palestine<br> +We marched to Syria: oft I left the Camp,<br> +When all that multitude of hearts was still,<br> +And followed on, through woods of gloomy cedar,<br> +Into deep chasms troubled by roaring streams;<br> +Or from the top of Lebanon surveyed<br> +The moonlight desert, and the moonlight sea:<br> +In these my lonely wanderings I perceived<br> +What mighty objects do impress their forms<br> +To elevate our intellectual being;<br> +And felt, if aught on earth deserves a curse,<br> +'Tis that worst principle of ill which dooms<br> +A thing so great to perish self-consumed.<br> +—So much for my remorse!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Unhappy Man!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>When from these forms I turned to contemplate<br> +The World's opinions and her usages,<br> +I seemed a Being who had passed alone<br> +Into a region of futurity,<br> +Whose natural element was freedom—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Stop—<br> +I may not, cannot, follow thee.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>You must.<br> +I had been nourished by the sickly food<br> +Of popular applause. I now perceived<br> +That we are praised, only as men in us<br> +Do recognise some image of themselves,<br> +An abject counterpart of what they are,<br> +Or the empty thing that they would wish to be.<br> +I felt that merit has no surer test<br> +Than obloquy; that, if we wish to serve<br> +The world in substance, not deceive by show,<br> +We must become obnoxious to its hate,<br> +Or fear disguised in simulated scorn.</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I pity, can forgive, you; but those wretches—<br> +That monstrous perfidy!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Keep down your wrath.<br> +False Shame discarded, spurious Fame despised,<br> +Twin sisters both of Ignorance, I found<br> +Life stretched before me smooth as some broad way<br> +Cleared for a monarch's progress. Priests might spin<br> +Their veil, but not for me—'twas in fit place<br> +Among its kindred cobwebs. I had been,<br> +And in that dream had left my native land,<br> +One of Love's simple bondsmen—the soft chain<br> +Was off for ever; and the men, from whom<br> +This liberation came, you would destroy:<br> +Join me in thanks for their blind services.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>'Tis a strange aching that, when we would curse<br> +And cannot.—You have betrayed me—I have done—<br> +I am content—I know that he is guiltless—<br> +That both are guiltless, without spot or stain,<br> +Mutually consecrated. Poor old Man!<br> +And I had heart for this, because thou lovedst<br> +Her who from very infancy had been<br> +Light to thy path, warmth to thy blood!—Together<br> + <i> [Turning to <b>Oswald</b>.]</i><br> +We propped his steps, he leaned upon us both.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Ay, we are coupled by a chain of adamant;<br> +Let us be fellow-labourers, then, to enlarge <br> +Man's intellectual empire. We subsist<br> +In slavery; all is slavery; we receive<br> +Laws, but we ask not whence those laws have come;<br> +We need an inward sting to goad us on.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Have you betrayed me? Speak to that.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>The mask,<br> +Which for a season I have stooped to wear,<br> +Must be cast off.—Know then that I was urged,<br> +(For other impulse let it pass) was driven,<br> +To seek for sympathy, because I saw<br> +In you a mirror of my youthful self;<br> +I would have made us equal once again,<br> +But that was a vain hope. You have struck home,<br> +With a few drops of blood cut short the business;<br> +Therein for ever you must yield to me.<br> +But what is done will save you from the blank<br> +Of living without knowledge that you live:<br> +Now you are suffering—for the future day,<br> +'Tis his who will command it.—Think of my story—<br> +Herbert is <i>innocent</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(in a faint voice, and doubtingly)</i><br> + You do but echo<br> +My own wild words?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Young Man, the seed must lie<br> +Hid in the earth, or there can be no harvest;<br> +'Tis Nature's law. What I have done in darkness<br> +I will avow before the face of day.<br> +Herbert <i>is</i> innocent.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>What fiend could prompt<br> +This action? Innocent!—oh, breaking heart!—<br> +Alive or dead, I'll find him. <br> +<br> +<i> [Exit.]</i> </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Alive—perdition! <br> + <br> + <i>[Exit.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—The inside of a poor Cottage</b><br> +<br> +<b>Eleanor</b> and <b>Idonea</b> seated</i>.<br> +<br> +<br> + +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>The storm beats hard—Mercy for poor or rich,<br> +Whose heads are shelterless in such a night!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>A Voice <br> + Without</i></td> + <td><br> + Holla! to bed, good Folks, within!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>O save us!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>What can this mean?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Alas, for my poor husband!—<br> +We'll have a counting of our flocks to-morrow;<br> +The wolf keeps festival these stormy nights:<br> +Be calm, sweet Lady, they are wassailers<br> +<i> [The voices die away in the distance.]</i><br> +Returning from their Feast—my heart beats so—<br> +A noise at midnight does <i>so</i> frighten me.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Hush! <i>[Listening.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>They are gone. On such a night, my husband,<br> +Dragged from his bed, was cast into a dungeon,<br> +Where, hid from me, he counted many years,<br> +A criminal in no one's eyes but theirs—<br> +Not even in theirs—whose brutal violence<br> +So dealt with him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>I have a noble Friend<br> +First among youths of knightly breeding, One<br> +Who lives but to protect the weak or injured.<br> +There again! <i> [Listening.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>'Tis my husband's foot. Good Eldred<br> +Has a kind heart; but his imprisonment<br> +Has made him fearful, and he'll never be<br> +The man he was.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>I will retire;—good night!<br> +<i>[She goes within.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter <b>Eldred</b> (hides a bundle)]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Not yet in bed, Eleanor!—there are stains in that +frock which must be washed out.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>What has befallen you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>I am belated, and you must know the cause— +<i>(speaking low)</i> that is the blood of an unhappy Man.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Oh! we are undone for ever.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Heaven forbid that I should lift my hand against +any man. Eleanor, I have shed tears to-night, and it +comforts me to think of it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Where, where is he?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>I have done him no harm, but——it will be forgiven +me; it would not have been so once.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>You have not <i>buried</i> anything? You are no richer +than when you left me?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Be at peace; I am innocent.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Then God be thanked—<br> + <br> + <i>[A short pause; she falls upon his neck.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Tonight I met with an old Man lying stretched upon +the ground—a sad spectacle: I raised him up with a +hope that we might shelter and restore him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td><i>(as if ready to run)</i><br> + Where is he? You were not able to bring him <i>all</i> +the way with you; let us return, I can help you.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[<b>Eldred</b> shakes his head.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>He did not seem to wish for life: as I was struggling +on, by the light of the moon I saw the stains of blood +upon my clothes—he waved his hand, as if it were all +useless; and I let him sink again to the ground.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Oh that I had been by your side!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>I tell you his hands and his body were cold—how +could I disturb his last moments? he strove to turn from +me as if he wished to settle into sleep.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>But, for the stains of blood—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>He must have fallen, I fancy, for his head was cut; +but I think his malady was cold and hunger.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Oh, Eldred, I shall never be able to look up at this +roof in storm or fair but I shall tremble.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Is it not enough that my ill stars have kept me +abroad to-night till this hour? I come home, and this +is my comfort!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>But did he say nothing which might have set you at ease?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>I thought he grasped my hand while he was muttering +something about his Child—his Daughter—<i>(starting +as if he heard a noise)</i>. What is that?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Eldred, you are a father.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>God knows what was in my heart, and will not curse +my son for my sake.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>But you prayed by him? you waited the hour of his +release?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>The night was wasting fast; I have no friend; I am +spited by the world—his wound terrified me—if I had +brought him along with me, and he had died in my +arms!——I am sure I heard something breathing—and +this chair!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Oh, Eldred, you will die alone. You will have +nobody to close your eyes—no hand to grasp your dying +hand—I shall be in my grave. A curse will attend us +all.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Have you forgot your own troubles when I was in +the dungeon?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>And you left him alive?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Alive!—the damps of death were upon him—he +could not have survived an hour.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>In the cold, cold night.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td><i>(in a savage tone)</i><br> + Ay, and his head was bare; I suppose you would +have had me lend my bonnet to cover it.—You will +never rest till I am brought to a felon's end.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Is there nothing to be done? cannot we go to the Convent?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Ay, and say at once that I murdered him!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Eldred, I know that ours is the only house upon the +Waste; let us take heart; this Man may be rich; and +could he be saved by our means, his gratitude may +reward us.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>'Tis all in vain.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>But let us make the attempt. This old Man may +have a wife, and he may have children—let us return to +the spot; we may restore him, and his eyes may yet +open upon those that love him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>He will never open them more; even when he spoke +to me, he kept them firmly sealed as if he had been +blind.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td><i>(rushing out)</i><br> +It is, it is, my Father—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>We are betrayed <i>(looking at <b>Idonea</b>)</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>His Daughter!—God have mercy! <i>(turning to <b>Idonea</b>)</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td><i>(sinking down)</i><br> +Oh! lift me up and carry me to the place.<br> +You are safe; the whole world shall not harm you.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>This Lady is his Daughter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td><i>(moved)</i><br> +I'll lead you to the spot.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td><i>(springing up)</i><br> +Alive!—you heard him breathe? quick, quick—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exeunt.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">Act V</span><br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—A wood on the edge of the Waste</b><br> +<br> +Enter <b>Oswald</b> and a Forester.</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Forester</i></td> + <td>He leaned upon the bridge that spans the glen,<br> +And down into the bottom cast his eye,<br> +That fastened there, as it would check the current.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>He listened too; did you not say he listened?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Forester</i></td> + <td>As if there came such moaning from the flood<br> +As is heard often after stormy nights.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>But did he utter nothing?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Forester</i></td> + <td>See him there!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[<b>Marmaduke</b> appearing.]</i></td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Buzz, buzz, ye black and winged freebooters;<br> +That is no substance which ye settle on!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Forester</i></td> + <td>His senses play him false; and see, his arms<br> +Outspread, as if to save himself from falling!—<br> +Some terrible phantom I believe is now<br> +Passing before him, such as God will not<br> +Permit to visit any but a man<br> +Who has been guilty of some horrid crime.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[<b>Marmaduke</b> disappears.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>The game is up!—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Forester</i></td> + <td>If it be needful, Sir,<br> +I will assist you to lay hands upon him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>No, no, my Friend, you may pursue your business—<br> +'Tis a poor wretch of an unsettled mind,<br> +Who has a trick of straying from his keepers;<br> +We must be gentle. Leave him to my care.<br> + <i> [Exit Forester.]</i><br> +If his own eyes play false with him, these freaks<br> +Of fancy shall be quickly tamed by mine;<br> +The goal is reached. My Master shall become<br> +A shadow of myself—made by myself.</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene—The edge of the Moor.</b><br> +<br> +<b>Marmaduke</b> and <b>Eldred</b> enter from opposite sides.</i><br> +<br> +<br> +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(raising his eyes and perceiving <b>Eldred</b>)</i><br> +In any corner of this savage Waste,<br> +Have you, good Peasant, seen a blind old Man?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>I heard—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>You heard him, where? when heard him?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td> As you know<br> +The first hours of last night were rough with storm:<br> +I had been out in search of a stray heifer;<br> +Returning late, I heard a moaning sound;<br> +Then, thinking that my fancy had deceived me,<br> +I hurried on, when straight a second moan,<br> +A human voice distinct, struck on my ear.<br> +So guided, distant a few steps, I found<br> +An aged Man, and such as you describe.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>You heard!—he called you to him? Of all men<br> +The best and kindest!—but where is he? guide me,<br> +That I may see him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>On a ridge of rocks<br> +A lonesome Chapel stands, deserted now:<br> +The bell is left, which no one dares remove;<br> +And, when the stormy wind blows o'er the peak,<br> +It rings, as if a human hand were there<br> +To pull the cord. I guess he must have heard it;<br> +And it had led him towards the precipice,<br> +To climb up to the spot whence the sound came;<br> +But he had failed through weakness. From his hand<br> +His staff had dropped, and close upon the brink<br> +Of a small pool of water he was laid,<br> +As if he had stooped to drink, and so remained<br> +Without the strength to rise.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Well, well, he lives,<br> +And all is safe: what said he?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>But few words:<br> +He only spake to me of a dear Daughter,<br> +Who, so he feared, would never see him more;<br> +And of a Stranger to him, One by whom<br> +He had been sore misused; but he forgave<br> +The wrong and the wrong-doer. You are troubled—<br> +Perhaps you are his son?</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>The All-seeing knows,<br> +I did not think he had a living Child.—<br> +But whither did you carry him?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>He was torn,<br> +His head was bruised, and there was blood about him—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>That was no work of mine.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Nor was it mine.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>But had he strength to walk? I could have borne him<br> +A thousand miles.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>I am in poverty,<br> +And know how busy are the tongues of men;<br> +My heart was willing, Sir, but I am one<br> +Whose good deeds will not stand by their own light;<br> +And, though it smote me more than words can tell,<br> +I left him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I believe that there are phantoms,<br> +That in the shape of man do cross our path<br> +On evil instigation, to make sport<br> +Of our distress—and thou art one of them!<br> +But things substantial have so pressed on me—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>My wife and children came into my mind.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Oh Monster! Monster! there are three of us,<br> +And we shall howl together.<br> + <i> [After a pause and in a feeble voice.]</i><br> + I am deserted<br> +At my worst need, my crimes have in a net<br> +<i>(Pointing to <b>Eldred</b>)</i> Entangled this poor man.—<br> + Where was it? where?<br> + <i> [Dragging him along.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>'Tis needless; spare your violence. His Daughter—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Ay, in the word a thousand scorpions lodge:<br> +This old man <i>had</i> a Daughter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>To the spot<br> +I hurried back with her.—Oh save me, Sir,<br> +From such a journey!—there was a black tree,<br> +A single tree; she thought it was her Father.—<br> +Oh Sir, I would not see that hour again<br> +For twenty lives. The daylight dawned, and now—<br> +Nay; hear my tale, 'tis fit that you should hear it—<br> +As we approached, a solitary crow<br> +Rose from the spot;—the Daughter clapped her hands,<br> +And then I heard a shriek so terrible<br> + <i> [<b>Marmaduke</b> shrinks back.]</i><br> +The startled bird quivered upon the wing.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Dead, dead!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td><i>(after a pause)</i><br> + A dismal matter, Sir, for me,<br> +And seems the like for you; if 'tis your wish,<br> +I'll lead you to his Daughter; but 'twere best<br> +That she should be prepared; I'll go before.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>There will be need of preparation.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[<b>Eldred</b> goes off.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td><i>(enters)</i><br> + Master!<br> +Your limbs sink under you, shall I support you?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(taking her arm)</i><br> +Woman, I've lent my body to the service<br> +Which now thou tak'st upon thee. God forbid<br> +That thou shouldst ever meet a like occasion<br> +With such a purpose in thine heart as mine was.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Oh, why have I to do with things like these?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Exeunt.]</i></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<br> +<i><b>Scene changes to the door of ELDRED'S cottage—</b><br> +<br> +<b>Idonea</b> seated—enter +<b>Eldred</b>.</i><br> +<br> +<br> + +<table summary="The Borderers" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Your Father, Lady, from a wilful hand<br> +Has met unkindness; so indeed he told me,<br> +And you remember such was my report:<br> +From what has just befallen me I have cause<br> +To fear the very worst.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>My Father is dead;<br> +Why dost thou come to me with words like these?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>A wicked Man should answer for his crimes.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Thou seest me what I am.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>It was most heinous, <br> +And doth call out for vengeance.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Do not add,<br> +I prith'ee, to the harm thou'st done already.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Hereafter you will thank me for this service.<br> +Hard by, a Man I met, who, from plain proofs<br> +Of interfering Heaven, I have no doubt, <br> +Laid hands upon your Father. Fit it were<br> +You should prepare to meet him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>I have nothing<br> +To do with others; help me to my Father—<br> + <i> [She turns and sees <b>Marmaduke</b> leaning on <b>Eleanor</b>—throws herself + upon his neck, and after some time,]</i><br> +In joy I met thee, but a few hours past;<br> +And thus we meet again; one human stay <br> +Is left me still in thee. Nay, shake not so.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>In such a wilderness—to see no thing,<br> +No, not the pitying moon!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>And perish so.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Without a dog to moan for him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Think not of it,<br> +But enter there and see him how he sleeps,<br> +Tranquil as he had died in his own bed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Tranquil—why not?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> Oh, peace!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>He is at peace;<br> +His body is at rest: there was a plot,<br> +A hideous plot, against the soul of man:<br> +It took effect—and yet I baffled it,<br> +In <i>some</i> degree.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Between us stood, I thought,<br> +A cup of consolation, filled from Heaven<br> +For both our needs; must I, and in thy presence,<br> +Alone partake of it?—Beloved Marmaduke!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Give me a reason why the wisest thing<br> +That the earth owns shall never choose to die,<br> +But some one must be near to count his groans.<br> +The wounded deer retires to solitude,<br> +And dies in solitude: all things but man,<br> +All die in solitude.<br> + <i> [Moving towards the cottage door.]</i><br> + Mysterious God,<br> +If she had never lived I had not done it!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Alas! the thought of such a cruel death<br> +Has overwhelmed him.—I must follow.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eldred</i></td> + <td>Lady!<br> +You will do well; <i>(she goes)</i> unjust suspicion may<br> +Cleave to this Stranger: if, upon his entering,<br> +The dead Man heave a groan, or from his side<br> +Uplift his hand—that would be evidence.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Eleanor</i></td> + <td>Shame! Eldred, shame!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td><i>(both returning)</i><br> + The dead have but one face.<i> (To himself.)</i><br> +And such a Man—so meek and unoffending—<br> +Helpless and harmless as a babe: a Man,<br> +By obvious signal to the world's protection,<br> +Solemnly dedicated—to decoy him!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Oh, had you seen him living!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I (so filled<br> +With horror is this world) am unto thee<br> +The thing most precious, that it now contains:<br> +Therefore through me alone must be revealed<br> +By whom thy Parent was destroyed, Idonea!<br> +I have the proofs!—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>O miserable Father!<br> +Thou didst command me to bless all mankind;<br> +Nor to this moment, have I ever wished<br> +Evil to any living thing; but hear me,<br> +Hear me, ye Heavens!—<i>(kneeling)</i>—may vengeance haunt the fiend<br> +For this most cruel murder: let him live<br> +And move in terror of the elements;<br> +The thunder send him on his knees to prayer<br> +In the open streets, and let him think he sees,<br> +If e'er he entereth the house of God,<br> +The roof, self-moved, unsettling o'er his head;<br> +And let him, when he would lie down at night,<br> +Point to his wife the blood-drops on his pillow!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>My voice was silent, but my heart hath joined thee.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td><i>(leaning on <b>Marmaduke</b>)</i><br> +Left to the mercy of that savage Man!<br> +How could he call upon his Child!—O Friend!<br> + <i> [Turns to <b>Marmaduke</b>.]</i><br> +My faithful true and only Comforter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Ay, come to me and weep. (He kisses her.) <br> + <i>(To <b>Eldred</b>.) </i>Yes, Varlet, look,<br> +The devils at such sights do clap their hands.<br> + <i> [<b>Eldred</b> retires alarmed.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Thy vest is torn, thy cheek is deadly pale;<br> +Hast thou pursued the monster?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>I have found him.—<br> +Oh! would that thou hadst perished in the flames!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Here art thou, then can I be desolate?—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>There was a time, when this protecting hand<br> +Availed against the mighty; never more<br> +Shall blessings wait upon a deed of mine.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Wild words for me to hear, for me, an orphan,<br> +Committed to thy guardianship by Heaven;<br> +And, if thou hast forgiven me, let me hope,<br> +In this deep sorrow, trust, that I am thine<br> +For closer care;—here, is no malady.<br> + <i> [Taking his arm.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>There, <i>is</i> a malady—<br> +<i>(Striking his heart and forehead.)</i> And here, and here,<br> +A mortal malady.—I am accurst:<br> +All nature curses me, and in my heart<br> +<i>Thy</i> curse is fixed; the truth must be laid bare.<br> +It must be told, and borne. I am the man,<br> +(Abused, betrayed, but how it matters not)<br> +Presumptuous above all that ever breathed,<br> +Who, casting as I thought a guilty Person<br> +Upon Heaven's righteous judgment, did become<br> +An instrument of Fiends. Through me, through me,<br> +Thy Father perished.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Perished—by what mischance?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Belovèd!—if I dared, so would I call thee—<br> +Conflict must cease, and, in thy frozen heart,<br> +The extremes of suffering meet in absolute peace.<br> + <i>[He gives her a letter.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>(reads) +<blockquote>"Be not surprised if you hear that some signal judgment +has befallen the man who calls himself your +father; he is now with me, as his signature will shew: +abstain from conjecture till you see me.<br> + "<b>Herbert</b>.<br> + "<b>Marmaduke</b>."</blockquote> +The writing Oswald's; the signature my Father's:<br> +<i>(Looks steadily at the paper.)</i> And here is yours,—or do my eyes deceive me?<br> +You have then seen my Father?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>He has leaned<br> +Upon this arm.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>You led him towards the Convent?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>That Convent was Stone-Arthur Castle. Thither<br> +We were his guides. I on that night resolved<br> +That he should wait thy coming till the day<br> +Of resurrection.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td> Miserable Woman,<br> +Too quickly moved, too easily giving way,<br> +I put denial on thy suit, and hence,<br> +With the disastrous issue of last night,<br> +Thy perturbation, and these frantic words.<br> +Be calm, I pray thee!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Oswald—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>Name him not.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td><i>[Enter Female Beggar.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td>And he is dead!—that Moor—how shall I cross it?<br> +By night, by day, never shall I be able<br> +To travel half a mile alone.—Good Lady!<br> +Forgive me!—Saints forgive me. Had I thought<br> +It would have come to this!—</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td>What brings you hither? speak!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Beggar</i></td> + <td><i>(pointing to <b>Marmaduke</b>)</i><br> +This innocent Gentleman. Sweet heavens! I told him<br> +Such tales of your dead Father!—God is my judge,<br> +I thought there was no harm: but that bad Man,<br> +He bribed me with his gold, and looked so fierce.<br> +Mercy! I said I know not what—oh pity me—<br> +I said, sweet Lady, you were not his Daughter—<br> +Pity me, I am haunted;—thrice this day<br> +My conscience made me wish to be struck blind;<br> +And then I would have prayed, and had no voice. </td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Idonea</i></td> + <td><i>(to <b>Marmaduke</b>)</i><br> +Was it my Father?—no, no, no, for he<br> +Was meek and patient, feeble, old and blind,<br> +Helpless, and loved me dearer than his life<br> +—But hear me. For <i>one</i> question, I have a heart<br> +That will sustain me. Did you murder him? </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>No, not by stroke of arm. But learn the process:<br> +Proof after proof was pressed upon me; guilt<br> +Made evident, as seemed, by blacker guilt,<br> +Whose impious folds enwrapped even thee; and truth<br> +And innocence, embodied in his looks, <br> +His words and tones and gestures, did but serve<br> +With me to aggravate his crimes, and heaped<br> +Ruin upon the cause for which they pleaded.<br> +Then pity crossed the path of my resolve:<br> +Confounded, I looked up to Heaven, and cast, <br> +Idonea! thy blind Father, on the Ordeal<br> +Of the bleak Waste—left him—and so he died!—<br> +<br> +<i>[<b>Idonea</b> sinks senseless; Beggar, <b>Eleanor</b>, etc., crowd round, and bear +her off.]</i><br> +<br> +Why may we speak these things, and do no more;<br> +Why should a thrust of the arm have such a power,<br> +And words that tell these things be heard in vain? <br> +<i>She</i> is not dead. Why!—if I loved this Woman,<br> +I would take care she never woke again;<br> +But she <b>will</b> wake, and she will weep for me,<br> +And say, no blame was mine—and so, poor fool,<br> +Will waste her curses on another name. <br> +<br> +<i>[He walks about distractedly.]</i><br> +<br> +<i>[Enter <b>Oswald</b>.]</i> +</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td><i>(to himself)</i><br> +Strong to o'erturn, strong also to build up.<br> + <i> [To <b>Marmaduke</b>.]</i><br> +The starts and sallies of our last encounter<br> +Were natural enough; but that, I trust,<br> +Is all gone by. You have cast off the chains<br> +That fettered your nobility of mind—<br> +Delivered heart and head!<br> + Let us to Palestine;<br> +This is a paltry field for enterprise.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Ay, what shall we encounter next? This issue—<br> +'Twas nothing more than darkness deepening darkness,<br> +And weakness crowned with the impotence of death!—<br> +Your pupil is, you see, an apt proficient.<i> (ironically)</i><br> +Start not!—Here is another face hard by;<br> +Come, let us take a peep at both together,<br> +And, with a voice at which the dead will quake,<br> +Resound the praise of your morality—<br> +Of this too much.<br> + <i> [Drawing <b>Oswald</b> towards the Cottage—stops short at the door.]</i><br> + Men are there, millions, Oswald,<br> +Who with bare hands would have plucked out thy heart<br> +And flung it to the dogs: but I am raised<br> +Above, or sunk below, all further sense<br> +Of provocation. Leave me, with the weight<br> +Of that old Man's forgiveness on thy heart,<br> +Pressing as heavily as it doth on mine.<br> +Coward I have been; know, there lies not now<br> +Within the compass of a mortal thought,<br> +A deed that I would shrink from;—but to endure,<br> +That is my destiny. May it be thine:<br> +Thy office, thy ambition, be henceforth<br> +To feed remorse, to welcome every sting<br> +Of penitential anguish, yea with tears.<br> +When seas and continents shall lie between us—<br> +The wider space the better—we may find<br> +In such a course fit links of sympathy,<br> +An incommunicable rivalship<br> +Maintained, for peaceful ends beyond our view.<br> + <i> [Confused voices—several of the Band enter—rush upon <b>Oswald</b> and seize him.]</i> +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>One <br> + of Them</i></td> + <td><br> + I would have dogged him to the jaws of hell—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>Ha! is it so!—That vagrant Hag!—this comes<br> +Of having left a thing like her alive! <i>[Aside.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Several <br> + Voices</i></td> + <td><br> + Despatch him!</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Oswald</i></td> + <td>If I pass beneath a rock<br> +And shout, and, with the echo of my voice,<br> +Bring down a heap of rubbish, and it crush me,<br> +I die without dishonour. Famished, starved,<br> +A Fool and Coward blended to my wish!<br> + <i> [Smiles scornfully and exultingly at <b>Marmaduke</b>.]</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wallace</i></td> + <td>'Tis done! <i>(Stabs him.)</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>One of <br> + the Band</i></td> + <td><br> + The ruthless traitor!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>A rash deed!—<br> +With that reproof I do resign a station<br> +Of which I have been proud.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Wilfred</i></td> + <td><i>(approaching <b>Marmaduke</b>)</i><br> + O my poor Master!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>Discerning Monitor, my faithful Wilfred,<br> +Why art thou here? <i> [Turning to <b>Wallace</b>.]</i><br> + Wallace, upon these Borders,<br> +Many there be whose eyes will not want cause<br> +To weep that I am gone. Brothers in arms!<br> +Raise on that dreary Waste a monument<br> +That may record my story: nor let words—<br> +Few must they be, and delicate in their touch<br> +As light itself—be there withheld from Her<br> +Who, through most wicked arts, was made an orphan<br> +By One who would have died a thousand times,<br> +To shield her from a moment's harm. To you,<br> +Wallace and Wilfred, I commend the Lady,<br> +By lowly nature reared, as if to make her<br> +In all things worthier of that noble birth,<br> +Whose long-suspended rights are now on the eve<br> +Of restoration: with your tenderest care<br> +Watch over her, I pray—sustain her—</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Several of the Band</i></td> + <td><i>(eagerly)</i><br> + Captain!</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td> + <td>No more of that; in silence hear my doom:<br> +A hermitage has furnished fit relief<br> +To some offenders; other penitents,<br> +Less patient in their wretchedness, have fallen,<br> +Like the old Roman, on their own sword's point.<br> +They had their choice: a wanderer <i>must I</i> go,<br> +The Spectre of that innocent Man, my guide.<br> +No human ear shall ever hear me speak;<br> +No human dwelling ever give me food,<br> +Or sleep, or rest: but, over waste and wild,<br> +In search of nothing, that this earth can give,<br> +But expiation, will I wander on—<br> +A Man by pain and thought compelled to live,<br> +Yet loathing life—till anger is appeased<br> +In Heaven, and Mercy gives me leave to die.</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">In June 1797 Coleridge wrote to his friend Cottle: </span> + + <blockquote> "W. has written a tragedy himself. I speak with heart-felt sincerity, + and, I think, unblinded judgment, when I tell you that I feel myself a + little man by his side, and yet I do not think myself a less man than + I formerly thought myself. His drama is absolutely wonderful. You know + I do not commonly speak in such abrupt and unmingled phrases, and + therefore will the more readily believe me. There are in the piece + those profound touches of the human heart which I find three or four + times in the <i>Robbers</i> of Schiller, and often in Shakspeare; but in W. + there are no inequalities."</blockquote> + + +<span style="color: #555555;">On August 6, 1800, Charles Lamb wrote to Coleridge: </span> + + <blockquote>"I would pay five-and-forty thousand carriages to read W.'s tragedy, + of which I have heard so much and seen so little." Shortly afterwards, + August 26, he wrote to Coleridge: "I have a sort of a recollection + that somebody, I think <i>you</i>, promised me a sight of Wordsworth's + tragedy. I shall be very glad of it just now, for I have got Manning + with me, and should like to read it _with him_. But this, I confess, + is a refinement. Under any circumstances, alone, in Cold-Bath Prison, + or in the desert island, just when Prospero and his crew had set off, + with Caliban in a cage, to Milan, it would be a treat to me to read + that play. Manning has read it, so has Lloyd, and all Lloyd's family; + but I could not get him to betray his trust by giving me a sight of + it. Lloyd is sadly deficient in some of those virtuous vices."<span style="color: #555555;">—Ed.</span></blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="9v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... female ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr9v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="9v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Ha! ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr9v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="9v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1849</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>With whom you parted?</blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr9v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="9v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... o'er ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1842</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr9v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="9A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> He doubtless refers to the lines (Act iii. l. 405) "Action +is transitory—a step, a blow," etc., which followed the Dedication of +<i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i> in the edition of 1836.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr9A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="9B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> Note prefixed to the edition of 1842.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr9A">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="9C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> Note appended to the edition of 1842.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr9C">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + + +<h2><a name="section10">The Reverie of Poor Susan</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1797.—Published 1800.</h4><br> + +<a href="#section10a">The Poem</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Written 1801 or 1802. This arose out of my observations of the + affecting music of these birds, hanging in this way in the London + streets during the freshness and stillness of the spring morning.—I. + F.</span></blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">Placed by Wordsworth among his "Poems of the Imagination."—Ed.<br> +<br> +The preceding Fenwick note to this poem is manifestly inaccurate as to +date, since the poem is printed in the "Lyrical Ballads" of 1800. In the +edition of 1836 the date of composition is given as 1797, and this date +is followed by Mr. Carter, the editor of 1857. Miss Wordsworth's Journal +gives no date; and, as the Fenwick note is certainly incorrect—and the +poem must have been written before the edition of 1800 came out— it +seems best to trust to the date sanctioned by Wordsworth himself in +1836, and followed by his literary executor in 1857. I think it probable +that the poem was written during the short visit which Wordsworth and +his sister paid to their brother Richard in London in 1797, when he +tried to get his tragedy, <i>The Borderers</i>, brought on the stage. The +title of the poem from 1800 to 1805 was <i>Poor Susan</i>.—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section10a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> + +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,<br> +Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years:<br> +Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard<br> +In the silence of morning the song of the Bird.<br><br> + +'Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees<br> +A mountain ascending, a vision of trees;<br> +Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide,<br> +And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.<br><br> + +Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale,<br> +Down which she so often has tripped with her pail;<br> +And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove's,<br> +The one only dwelling on earth that she loves.<br><br> + +She looks, and her heart is in heaven: but they fade,<br> +The mist and the river, the hill and the shade:<br> +The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise,<br> +And the colours have all passed away from her eyes!</td> + <td><br> +<a name="fr10v1"></a><a href="#10v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr10v2"></a><a href="#10v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr10v3"></a><a href="#10v3"><sup>3</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr10A"></a><a href="#10A"><sup>A</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="10v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>There's a Thrush ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr10v1">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="10v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The only one ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr10v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="10v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +The following stanza, in the edition of 1800, was omitted in +subsequent ones: + +<blockquote>Poor Outcast! return—to receive thee once more<br> + The house of thy Father will open its door,<br> + And thou once again, in thy plain russet gown,<br> + May'st hear the thrush sing from a tree of its own<a href="#10si"><sup>i</sup></a>.</blockquote> +<a href="#fr10v3">return</a> <br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="10A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> Wordsworth originally wrote "sees." S.T.C. suggested +"views."—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr10A">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="10si"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote i:</span> </a> + + <blockquote> "Susan stood for the representative of poor '<i>Rus in urbe</i>.' There was + quite enough to stamp the moral of the thing never to be forgotten; + 'bright volumes of vapour,' etc. The last verse of Susan was to be got + rid of, at all events. It threw a kind of dubiety upon Susan's moral + conduct. Susan is a servant maid. I see her trundling her mop, and + contemplating the whirling phenomenon through blurred optics; but to + term her 'a poor outcast' seems as much as to say that poor Susan was + no better than she should be, which I trust was not what you meant to + express."</blockquote> + +Charles Lamb to Wordsworth. See <i>The Letters of Charles Lamb</i>, edited by +Alfred Ainger, vol. i., p. 287.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#10v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section12">1798: a Night Piece</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1815.</h4><br> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Composed on the road between Nether Stowey and Alfoxden, extempore. I + distinctly recollect the very moment when I was struck, as + described,—'He looks up, the clouds are split,' etc.—I. F.</span></blockquote><br> + +<span style="color: #555555;">Classed by Wordsworth among his "Poems of the Imagination."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td> —The sky is overcast<br> +With a continuous cloud of texture close,<br> +Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon,<br> +Which through that veil is indistinctly seen,<br> +A dull, contracted circle, yielding light<br> +So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls,<br> +Chequering the ground—from rock, plant, tree, or tower.<br> +At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam<br> +Startles the pensive traveller while he treads<br> +His lonesome path, with unobserving eye<br> +Bent earthwards; he looks up—the clouds are split<br> +Asunder,—and above his head he sees<br> +The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens.<br> +There, in a black-blue vault she sails along,<br> +Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small<br> +And sharp, and bright, along the dark abyss<br> +Drive as she drives: how fast they wheel away,<br> +Yet vanish not!—the wind is in the tree,<br> +But they are silent;—still they roll along<br> +Immeasurably distant; and the vault,<br> +Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds,<br> +Still deepens its unfathomable depth.<br> +At length the Vision closes; and the mind,<br> +Not undisturbed by the delight it feels,<br> +Which slowly settles into peaceful calm,<br> +Is left to muse upon the solemn scene.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr12v1"></a><a href="#12v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr12A"></a><a href="#12A"><sup>A</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="12v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... as ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr12v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="12A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> The indebtedness of the Poet to his Sister is nowhere more +conspicuous than in this Poem. In Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal +the following occurs, under date 25th January 1798: + + <blockquote>"Went to Poole's after tea. The sky spread over with one continuous + cloud, whitened by the light of the moon, which, though her dim shape + was seen, did not throw forth so strong a light as to chequer the + earth with shadows. At once the clouds seemed to cleave asunder, and + lift her in the centre of a black-blue vault. She sailed along, + followed by multitudes of stars, small, and bright, and sharp; their + brightness seemed concentrated."</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr12A">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h3><a name="section13">We are Seven</a></h3> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4><br> + +<a href="#section13a">The Poem</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;"> Written at Alfoxden in the spring of 1798, under circumstances + somewhat remarkable. The little girl who is the heroine, I met within + the area of Goodrich Castle in the year 1793. Having left the Isle of + Wight, and crost Salisbury Plain, as mentioned in the preface to + <i>Guilt and Sorrow</i>, I proceeded by Bristol up the Wye, and so on to N. + Wales to the Vale of Clwydd, where I spent my summer under the roof of + the father of my friend, Robert Jones.<br> +<br> + In reference to this poem, I will here mention one of the most + remarkable facts in my own poetic history, and that of Mr. Coleridge. + In the spring of the year 1798, he, my sister, and myself, started + from Alfoxden pretty late in the afternoon, with a view to visit + Linton and the Valley of Stones near it; and as our united funds were + very small, we agreed to defray the expense of the tour by writing a + poem, to be sent to the <i>New Monthly Magazine</i>, set up by Philips, the + bookseller, and edited by Dr. Aikin. Accordingly we set off, and + proceeded along the Quantock Hills, towards Watchet; and in the course + of this walk was planned the poem of <i>The Ancient Mariner</i>, founded on + a dream, as Mr. Coleridge said, of his friend Mr. Cruikshank. Much the + greatest part of the story was Mr. Coleridge's invention; but certain + parts I myself suggested: for example, some crime was to be committed + which should bring upon the Old Navigator, as Coleridge afterwards + delighted to call him, the spectral persecution, as a consequence of + that crime, and his own wanderings. I had been reading in Shelvocke's + <i>Voyages</i>, a day or two before, that, while doubling Cape Horn, they + frequently saw albatrosses in that latitude, the largest sort of + sea-fowl, some extending their wings twelve or thirteen feet. + 'Suppose,' said I, 'you represent him as having killed one of these + birds on entering the South Sea, and that the tutelary spirits of + these regions take upon them to avenge the crime.' The incident was + thought fit for the purpose, and adopted accordingly. I also suggested + the navigation of the ship by the dead men, but do not recollect that + I had anything more to do with the scheme of the poem. The gloss with + which it was subsequently accompanied was not thought of by either of + us at the time; at least not a hint of it was given to me, and I have + no doubt it was a gratuitous after-thought. We began the composition + together, on that to me memorable evening: I furnished two or three + lines at the beginning of the poem, in particular—</span> + +<blockquote>And listen'd like a three years' child;<br> + The Mariner had his will.</blockquote> + + <span style="color: #663300;">These trifling contributions, all but one (which Mr. C. has with + unnecessary scrupulosity recorded), slipt out of his mind, as well + they might. As we endeavoured to proceed conjointly (I speak of the + same evening), our respective manners proved so widely different, that + it would have been quite presumptuous in me to do anything but + separate from an undertaking upon which I could only have been a clog. + We returned after a few days from a delightful tour, of which I have + many pleasant, and some of them droll enough, recollections. We + returned by Dulverton to Alfoxden. <i>The Ancient Mariner</i> grew and grew + till it became too important for our first object, which was limited + to our expectation of five pounds; and we began to talk of a volume + which was to consist, as Mr. Coleridge has told the world, of Poems + chiefly on natural subjects taken from common life, but looked at, as + much as might be, through an imaginative medium. Accordingly I wrote + <i>The Idiot Boy</i>, <i>Her eyes are wild</i>, etc., <i>We are Seven</i>, <i>The + Thorn</i>, and some others. To return to <i>We are Seven</i>, the piece that + called forth this note, I composed it while walking in the grove at + Alfoxden. My friends will not deem it too trifling to relate, that + while walking to and fro I composed the last stanza first, having + begun with the last line. When it was all but finished, I came in and + recited it to Mr. Coleridge and my sister, and said, "A prefatory + stanza must be added, and I should sit down to our little tea-meal + with greater pleasure if my task was finished." I mentioned in + substance what I wished to be expressed, and Coleridge immediately + threw off the stanza, thus;</span> + +<blockquote>A little child, dear brother Jem,</blockquote> + + <span style="color: #663300;">I objected to the rhyme, 'dear brother Jem,' as being ludicrous; but + we all enjoyed the joke of hitching in our friend James Tobin's name, + who was familiarly called Jem. He was the brother of the dramatist; + and this reminds me of an anecdote which it may be worth while here to + notice. The said Jem got a sight of the "Lyrical Ballads" as it was + going through the press at Bristol, during which time I was residing + in that city. One evening he came to me with a grave face, and said, + "Wordsworth, I have seen the volume that Coleridge and you are about + to publish. There is one poem in it which I earnestly entreat you will + cancel, for, if published, it will make you everlastingly ridiculous." + I answered, that I felt much obliged by the interest he took in my + good name as a writer, and begged to know what was the unfortunate + piece he alluded to. He said, 'It is called <i>We are Seven</i>.' 'Nay,' + said I, 'that shall take its chance, however'; and he left me in + despair. I <a name="fr13A">have</a> only to add, that in the spring<a href="#13A"><sup>A</sup></a> of 1841, I + revisited Goodrich Castle, not having seen that part of the Wye since + I met the little girl there in 1793. It would have given me greater + pleasure to have found in the neighbouring hamlet traces of one who + had interested me so much, but that was impossible, as unfortunately I + did not even know her name. The ruin, from its position and features, + is a most impressive object. I could not but deeply regret that its + solemnity was impaired by a fantastic new Castle set up on a + projection of the same ridge, as if to show how far modern art can go + in surpassing all that could be done by antiquity and nature with + their united graces, remembrances, and associations. I could have + almost wished for power, so much the contrast vexed me, to blow away + Sir —— Meyrick's impertinent structure and all the fopperies it + contains.—I. F.</span></blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">The "structure" referred to is Goodrich Court, built in 1828 by Sir +Samuel Rush Meyrick—a collector of ancient armour, and a great +authority on the subject—mainly to receive his extensive private +collection. The armour has been removed from Goodrich to the South +Kensington Museum. <i>We are Seven</i> was placed by Wordsworth among his +"Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section13a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> + +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>—A simple Child,<br> +That lightly draws its breath,<br> +And feels its life in every limb,<br> +What should it know of death?<br><br> + +I met a little cottage Girl:<br> +She was eight years old, she said;<br> +Her hair was thick with many a curl<br> +That clustered round her head.<br><br> + +She had a rustic, woodland air,<br> +And she was wildly clad:<br> +Her eyes were fair, and very fair;<br> +—Her beauty made me glad.<br><br> + +"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,<br> +How many may you be?"<br> +"How many? Seven in all," she said,<br> +And wondering looked at me.<br><br> + +"And where are they? I pray you tell."<br> +She answered, "Seven are we;<br> +And two of us at Conway dwell,<br> +And two are gone to sea.<br><br> + +"Two of us in the church-yard lie,<br> +My sister and my brother;<br> +And, in the church-yard cottage, I<br> +Dwell near them with my mother."<br><br> + +"You say that two at Conway dwell,<br> +And two are gone to sea,<br> +Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,<br> +Sweet Maid, how this may be."<br><br> + +Then did the little Maid reply,<br> +"Seven boys and girls are we; <br> +Two of us in the church-yard lie,<br> +Beneath the church-yard tree."<br><br> + +"You run about, my little Maid,<br> +Your limbs they are alive;<br> +If two are in the church-yard laid,<br> +Then ye are only five."<br><br> + +"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"<br> +The little Maid replied,<br> +"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,<br> +And they are side by side.<br><br> + +"My stockings there I often knit,<br> +My kerchief there I hem;<br> +And there upon the ground I sit,<br> +And sing a song to them.<br><br> + +"And often after sun-set, Sir,<br> +When it is light and fair,<br> +I take my little porringer,<br> +And eat my supper there.<br><br> + +"The first that died was sister Jane;<br> +In bed she moaning lay,<br> +Till God released her of her pain;<br> +And then she went away.<br><br> + +"So in the church-yard she was laid;<br> +And, when the grass was dry,<br> +Together round her grave we played,<br> +My brother John and I.<br><br> + +"And when the ground was white with snow,<br> +And I could run and slide,<br> +My brother John was forced to go,<br> +And he lies by her side."<br><br> + +"How many are you, then," said I,<br> +"If they two are in heaven?"<br> +Quick was the little Maid's reply,<br> +"O Master! we are seven."<br><br> + +"But they are dead; those two are dead!<br> +Their spirits are in heaven!"<br> +'Twas throwing words away; for still<br> +The little Maid would have her will,<br> +And said, "Nay, we are seven!"</td> + <td><a name="fr13v1"></a><a href="#13v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr13v2"></a><a href="#13v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr13v3"></a><a href="#13v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr13v4"></a><a href="#13v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr13v5"></a><a href="#13v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr13v6"></a><a href="#13v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr13B"></a><a href="#13B"><sup>B</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="13v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>A simple child, dear brother Jim,</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr13v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="13v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... you ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr13v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="13v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>I sit and sing to them</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr13v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="13v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... little Jane;</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr13v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="13v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And all the summer dry, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr13v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="13v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> The little Maiden did reply,</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr13v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="13A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> It was in June, after leaving Alfoxden finally.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr13A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="13B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> The whole of this stanza was written by Coleridge. In a MS. +copy of the poem, transcribed by him, after 1806, Wordsworth gave it the +title <i>We are Seven, or Death</i>, but afterwards restored the original +title.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr13B">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h3><a name="section14">Anecdote for Fathers</a></h3> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4><br> + +<a href="#section14a">The Poem</a><br><br> +<br> + + +<blockquote><i>Retine vim istam, falsa enim dicam, si coges.</i><br> +<br> +<b>Eusebius</b><a href="#14A"><sup>A</sup></a>.</blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">This was suggested in front of Alfoxden. The boy was a son of my + friend, Basil Montagu, who had been two or three years under our care. + The name of Kilve is from a village on the Bristol Channel, about a + mile from Alfoxden; and the name of Liswyn Farm was taken from a + beautiful spot on the Wye, where Mr. Coleridge, my sister, and I had + been visiting the famous John Thelwall, who had taken refuge from + politics, after a trial for high treason, with a view to bring up his + family by the profits of agriculture, which proved as unfortunate a + speculation as that he had fled from. Coleridge and he had both been + public lecturers; Coleridge mingling, with his politics, Theology, + from which the other elocutionist abstained, unless it was for the + sake of a sneer. This quondam community of public employment induced + Thelwall to visit Coleridge at Nether Stowey, where he fell in my way. + He really was a man of extraordinary talent, an affectionate husband, + and a good father. Though brought up in the city, on a tailor's board, + he was truly sensible of the beauty of natural objects. I remember + once, when Coleridge, he, and I were seated together upon the turf, on + the brink of a stream in the most beautiful part of the most beautiful + glen of Alfoxden, Coleridge exclaimed, 'This is a place to reconcile + one to all the jarrings and conflicts of the wide world.' 'Nay,' said + Thelwall, 'to make one forget them altogether.' The visit of this man + to Coleridge was, as I believe Coleridge has related, the occasion of + a spy being sent by Government to watch our proceedings; which were, I + can say with truth, such as the world at large would have thought + ludicrously harmless.—I. F.</span></blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">In the <a name="fr14v1">editions</a> 1798 to 1843 the title of this poem is <i>Anecdote for +Fathers, showing how the practice<a href="#14v1"><sup>1</sup></a> of lying may be taught</i>. It was +placed among the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."—Ed. +</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section14a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> + +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>I have a boy of five years old;<br> +His face is fair and fresh to see;<br> +His limbs are cast in beauty's mould,<br> +And dearly he loves me.<br><br> + +One morn we strolled on our dry walk,<br> +Our quiet home all full in view,<br> +And held such intermitted talk<br> +As we are wont to do.<br><br> + +My thoughts on former pleasures ran;<br> +I thought of Kilve's delightful shore,<br> +Our pleasant home when spring began,<br> +A long, long year before.<br><br> + +A day it was when I could bear<br> +Some fond regrets to entertain;<br> +With so much happiness to spare,<br> +I could not feel a pain.<br><br> + +The green earth echoed to the feet<br> +Of lambs that bounded through the glade,<br> +From shade to sunshine, and as fleet<br> +From sunshine back to shade.<br><br> + +Birds warbled round me—and each trace<br> +Of inward sadness had its charm;<br> +Kilve, thought I, was a favoured place,<br> +And so is Liswyn farm.<br><br> + +My boy beside me tripped, so slim<br> +And graceful in his rustic dress!<br> +And, as we talked, I questioned him,<br> +In very idleness.<br><br> + +"Now tell me, had you rather be,"<br> +I said, and took him by the arm,<br> +"On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea,<br> +Or here at Liswyn farm?"<br><br> + +In careless mood he looked at me,<br> +While still I held him by the arm,<br> +And said, "At Kilve I'd rather be<br> +Than here at Liswyn farm."<br><br> + +"Now, little Edward, say why so:<br> +My little Edward, tell me why."—<br> +"I cannot tell, I do not know."—<br> +"Why, this is strange," said I;<br><br> + +"For, here are woods, hills smooth and warm:<br> +There surely must some reason be<br> +Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm<br> +For Kilve by the green sea."<br><br> + +At this, my boy hung down his head,<br> +He blushed with shame, nor made reply;<br> +And three times to the child I said,<br> +"Why, Edward, tell me why?"<br><br> + +His head he raised—there was in sight,<br> +It caught his eye, he saw it plain—<br> +Upon the house-top, glittering bright,<br> +A broad and gilded vane.<br><br> + +Then did the boy his tongue unlock,<br> +And eased his mind with this reply:<br> +"At Kilve there was no weather-cock;<br> +And that's the reason why."<br><br> + +O dearest, dearest boy! my heart<br> +For better lore would seldom yearn,<br> +Could I but teach the hundredth part<br> +Of what from thee I learn.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v2"></a><a href="#14v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v3"></a><a href="#14v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v4"></a><a href="#14v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v5"></a><a href="#14v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v6"></a><a href="#14v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v7"></a><a href="#14v7"><sup>7</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v8"></a><a href="#14v8"><sup>8</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v9"></a><a href="#14v9"><sup>9</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v10"></a><a href="#14v10"><sup>10</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr14v11"></a><a href="#14v11"><sup>11</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14v12"></a><a href="#14v12"><sup>12</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr14B"></a><a href="#14B"><sup>B</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="14v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>the art ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... house ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> My ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> To think, and think, and think again;</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827.</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The young lambs ran a pretty race;<br> + The morning sun shone bright and warm;<br> + "Kilve," said I, "was a pleasant place,<br> + And so is Liswyn farm." </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ...—every trace<br> + Of inward sadness had its charm;<br> + "Kilve," said I, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +This verse was introduced in 1827.<br> +<a href="#fr14v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>My boy was by my side, so slim<br> + And graceful in his rustic dress!<br> + And oftentimes I talked to him,</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +This was stanza v. from 1798 to 1820. +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>And, as we talked, I questioned him, </td> + <td>1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>"My little boy, which like you more,"<br> + I said and took him by the arm—<br> + "Our home by Kilve's delightful shore,<br> + Or here at Liswyn farm?"<br> + <br> + "And tell me, had you rather be,"<br> + I said and held him by the arm,<br> + "At Kilve's smooth shore by the green sea,<br> + Or here at Liswyn farm?" </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +These two stanzas were compressed into one in 1827.<br> +<a href="#fr14v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>For, here are woods and green-hills warm; </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>At this, my boy, so fair and slim,<br> + Hung down his head, nor made reply; </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v11"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 11:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845.</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And five times did I say to him,<br> + <br> + And five times to the child I said,</blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14v12"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 12:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And thus to me he made reply;</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr14v12">return</a> <br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="14A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> See <a href="#section32">Appendix IV.</a>—Ed.<br> +<a href="#section14">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="14B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> Mr. Ernest H. Coleridge writes to me of this poem: + + <blockquote>"The Fenwick note is most puzzling. + <ol type="1"> + + <li>If Coleridge went to visit Thelwall, with Wordsworth and Dorothy in + July 1798, this is the only record; but I suppose that he did.</li> + + <li>How could the poem have been suggested in front of Alfoxden? The + visit to Liswyn took place after the Wordsworths had left Alfoxden + never to return. If little Montagu ever did compare Kilve and Liswyn + Farm, he must have done so after he left Alfoxden. The scene is laid + at Liswyn, and if the poem was written at Alfoxden, before the party + visited Liswyn, the supposed reply was invented to a supposed question + which might be put to the child when he got to Liswyn. How unlike + Wordsworth.</li> + + <li>Thelwall came to Alfoxden at the commencement of Wordsworth's + tenancy; and the visit to Wales took place when the tenancy was over, + July 3-10."</li> +</ol></blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr14B">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section15">"A whirl-blast from behind the hill" </a></h2> + +<h4>Composed March 18, 1798.—Published 1800.</h4> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;"><a name="fr15A">Observed</a> in the holly-grove at Alfoxden, where these verses were + written in the spring of 1799<a href="#15A"><sup>A</sup></a>. I had the pleasure of again seeing, + with dear friends, this grove in unimpaired beauty forty-one years + after<a href="#15B"><sup>B</sup></a>.—I. F.]</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">Classed among the "Poems of the Fancy."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>A whirl-blast from behind the hill<br> +Rushed o'er the wood with startling sound;<br> +Then—all at once the air was still,<br> +And showers of hailstones pattered round.<br> +Where leafless oaks towered high above,<br> +I sat within an undergrove<br> +Of tallest hollies, tall and green;<br> +A fairer bower was never seen.<br> +From year to year the spacious floor<br> +With withered leaves is covered o'er,<br> +And all the year the bower is green.<br> +But see! where'er the hailstones drop<br> +The withered leaves all skip and hop;<br> +There's not a breeze—no breath of air—<br> +Yet here, and there, and every where <br> +Along the floor, beneath the shade<br> +By those embowering hollies made,<br> +The leaves in myriads jump and spring,<br> +As if with pipes and music rare<br> +Some Robin Good-fellow were there,<br> +And all those leaves, in festive glee,<br> +Were dancing to the minstrelsy.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr15v1"></a><a href="#15v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr15v2"></a><a href="#15v2"><sup>2</sup></a> / <a name="fr15v3"></a><a href="#15v3"><sup>3</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr15C"></a><a href="#15C"><sup>C</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr15D"></a><a href="#15D"><sup>D</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="15v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> You could not lay a hair between:</blockquote></td> + <td>Inserted in the editions 1800-1815.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr15v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="15v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And all those leaves, that jump and spring,<br> + Were each a joyous, living thing.</blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr15v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="15v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +The following additional lines occur in the editions 1800 to +1805: +<blockquote>Oh! grant me Heaven a heart at ease<br> + That I may never cease to find,<br> + Even in appearances like these<br> + Enough to nourish and to stir my mind!</blockquote> +<a href="#fr15v3">return</a> <br> +<br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="15A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal gives the date 1798, and in +the spring of 1799 the Wordsworths were not at Alfoxden but in +Germany.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr15A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="15B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> The friends were Mrs. Wordsworth, Miss Fenwick, Edward and +Dora Quillinan, and William Wordsworth (the poet's son). The date was +May 13, 1841.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr15A">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="15C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> Compare a letter from Wordsworth to Sir George Beaumont, +written in November 1806, and one to Lady Beaumont in December +1806.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr15C">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="15D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> + + <blockquote>"March 18, 1708. The Coleridges left us. A cold windy morning. Walked + with them half-way. On our return, sheltered under the hollies during + a hail shower. The withered leaves danced with the hailstones. William + wrote a description of the storm." </blockquote> + +(Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal).—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr15D">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section16">The Thorn</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed March 19, 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + +<a href="#section16a">The Poem</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">In the editions of 1800-1805, Wordsworth added the following note to +this poem:</span> + +<blockquote> "This Poem ought to have been preceded by an introductory Poem, which + I have been prevented from writing by never having felt myself in a + mood when it was probable that I should write it well.—The character + which I have here introduced speaking is sufficiently common. The + Reader will perhaps have a general notion of it, if he has ever known + a man, a Captain of a small trading vessel for example, who being past + the middle age of life, had retired upon an annuity or small + independent income to some village or country town of which he was not + a native, or in which he had not been accustomed to live. Such men + having little to do become credulous and talkative from indolence; and + from the same cause, and other predisposing causes by which it is + probable that such men may have been affected, they are prone to + superstition. On which account it appeared to me proper to select a + character like this to exhibit some of the general laws by which + superstition acts upon the mind. Superstitious men are almost always + men of slow faculties and deep feelings; their minds are not loose but + adhesive; they have a reasonable share of imagination, by which word I + mean the faculty which produces impressive effects out of simple + elements; but they are utterly destitute of fancy, the power by which + pleasure and surprise are excited by sudden varieties of situation and + by accumulated imagery.<br> +<br> + "It was my wish in this poem to shew the manner in which such men + cleave to the same ideas; and to follow the turns of passion, always + different, yet not palpably different, by which their conversation is + swayed. I had two objects to attain; first, to represent a picture + which should not be unimpressive yet consistent with the character + that should describe it, secondly, while I adhered to the style in + which such persons describe, to take care that words, which in their + minds are impregnated with passion, should likewise convey passion to + Readers who are not accustomed to sympathize with men feeling in that + manner or using such language. It seemed to me that this might be done + by calling in the assistance of Lyrical and rapid Metre. It was + necessary that the Poem, to be natural, should in reality move slowly; + yet I hoped, that, by the aid of the metre, to those who should at all + enter into the spirit of the Poem, it would appear to move quickly. + The Reader will have the kindness to excuse this note as I am sensible + that an introductory Poem is necessary to give this Poem its full + effect.<br> +<br> + "Upon this occasion I will request permission to add a few words + closely connected with <i>The Thorn</i> and many other Poems in these + Volumes. There is a numerous class of readers who imagine that the + same words cannot be repeated without tautology; this is a great + error: virtual tautology is much oftener produced by using different + words when the meaning is exactly the same. Words, a Poet's words more + particularly, ought to be weighed in the balance of feeling and not + measured by the space which they occupy upon paper. For the Reader + cannot be too often reminded that Poetry is passion: it is the history + or science of feelings: now every man must know that an attempt is + rarely made to communicate impassioned feelings without something of + an accompanying consciousness of the inadequateness of our own powers, + or the deficiencies of language. During such efforts there will be a + craving in the mind, and as long as it is unsatisfied the Speaker will + cling to the same words, or words of the same character. There are + also various other reasons why repetition and apparent tautology are + frequently beauties of the highest kind. Among the chief of these + reasons is the interest which the mind attaches to words, not only as + symbols of the passion, but as <i>things</i>, active and efficient, which + are of themselves part of the passion. And further, from a spirit of + fondness, exultation, and gratitude, the mind luxuriates in the + repetition of words which appear successfully to communicate its + feelings. The truth of these remarks might be shown by innumerable + passages from the Bible and from the impassioned poetry of every + nation. + +<blockquote>Awake, awake, Deborah! awake, awake, utter a song: Arise Barak, and + lead captivity captive, thou Son of Abinoam.<br> +<br> + At her feet he bowed, he fell, he lay down: at her feet he bowed, he + fell: where he bowed there he fell down dead.<br> +<br> + Why is his Chariot so long in coming? why tarry the Wheels of his + Chariot?<br> +<br> + (<i>Judges</i>, chap. v. verses 12th, 27th, and part of 28th.)</blockquote> + +See also the whole of that tumultuous and wonderful Poem.<br> +<br> + "The poem of 'The Thorn', as the reader will soon discover, is not + supposed to be spoken in the author's own person: the character of the + loquacious narrator will sufficiently shew itself in the course of the + story."</blockquote> + +W. W. Advertisement to "Lyrical Ballads," 1798.<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Alfoxden, 1798. Arose out of my observing, on the ridge of Quantock + Hill, on a stormy day, a thorn, which I had often past in calm and + bright weather, without noticing it. I said to myself, "Cannot I by + some invention do as much to make this Thorn permanently as an + impressive object as the storm has made it to my eyes at this moment?" + I began the poem accordingly, and composed it with great rapidity. Sir + George Beaumont painted a picture from it, which Wilkie thought his + best. He gave it me: though when he saw it several times at Rydal + Mount afterwards, he said, 'I could make a better, and would like to + paint the same subject over again.' The sky in this picture is nobly + done, but it reminds one too much of Wilson. The only fault, however, + of any consequence is the female figure, which is too old and decrepit + for one likely to frequent an eminence on such a call.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<i>The Thorn</i> was always placed among the "Poems of the Imagination."—Ed.<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section16a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> + +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>stanza</td> +<td>text</td> + <td>variant</td> + <td>footnote</td> + <td>line</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">I</span></td> +<td>"There is a Thorn—it looks so old,<br> +In truth, you'd find it hard to say<br> +How it could ever have been young,<br> +It looks so old and grey.<br> +Not higher than a two years' child <br> +It stands erect, this aged Thorn;<br> +No leaves it has, no prickly points;<br> +It is a mass of knotted joints,<br> +A wretched thing forlorn.<br> +It stands erect, and like a stone<br> +With lichens is it overgrown.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v1"></a><a href="#16v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v2"></a><a href="#16v2"><sup>2</sup></a></td> + <td> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">II</span></td> +<td>"Like rock or stone, it is o'ergrown,<br> +With lichens to the very top,<br> +And hung with heavy tufts of moss,<br> +A melancholy crop:<br> +Up from the earth these mosses creep,<br> +And this poor Thorn they clasp it round<br> +So close, you'd say that they are bent<br> +With plain and manifest intent<br> +To drag it to the ground;<br> +And all have joined in one endeavour<br> +To bury this poor Thorn for ever.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v3"></a><a href="#16v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v4"></a><a href="#16v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">III</span></td> +<td>"High on a mountain's highest ridge,<br> +Where oft the stormy winter gale<br> +Cuts like a scythe, while through the clouds<br> +It sweeps from vale to vale;<br> +Not five yards from the mountain path,<br> +This Thorn you on your left espy;<br> +And to the left, three yards beyond,<br> +You see a little muddy pond<br> +Of water—never dry<br> +Though but of compass small, and bare<br> +To thirsty suns and parching air.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v5"></a><a href="#16v5"><sup>5</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16A"></a><a href="#16A"><sup>A</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">IV</span></td> +<td>"And, close beside this aged Thorn,<br> +There is a fresh and lovely sight,<br> +A beauteous heap, a hill of moss,<br> +Just half a foot in height.<br> +All lovely colours there you see,<br> +All colours that were ever seen;<br> +And mossy network too is there,<br> +As if by hand of lady fair<br> +The work had woven been;<br> +And cups, the darlings of the eye,<br> +So deep is their vermilion dye.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">V</span></td> +<td>"Ah me! what lovely tints are there<br> +Of olive green and scarlet bright,<br> +In spikes, in branches, and in stars,<br> +Green, red, and pearly white!<br> +This heap of earth o'ergrown with moss,<br> +Which close beside the Thorn you see,<br> +So fresh in all its beauteous dyes,<br> +Is like an infant's grave in size,<br> +As like as like can be:<br> +But never, never any where,<br> +An infant's grave was half so fair.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td>45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VI</span></td> +<td>"Now would you see this aged Thorn,<br> +This pond, and beauteous hill of moss,<br> +You must take care and choose your time<br> +The mountain when to cross.<br> +For oft there sits between the heap<br> +So like an infant's grave in size,<br> +And that same pond of which I spoke,<br> +A Woman in a scarlet cloak,<br> +And to herself she cries,<br> +'Oh misery! oh misery!<br> +Oh woe is me! oh misery!'</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v6"></a><a href="#16v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VII</span></td> +<td>"At all times of the day and night<br> +This wretched Woman thither goes;<br> +And she is known to every star,<br> +And every wind that blows;<br> +And there, beside the Thorn, she sits<br> +When the blue daylight's in the skies,<br> +And when the whirlwind's on the hill,<br> +Or frosty air is keen and still<br> +And to herself she cries,<br> +'Oh misery! oh misery!<br> +Oh woe is me! oh misery!'"</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VIII</span></td> +<td>"Now wherefore, thus, by day and night,<br> +In rain, in tempest, and in snow,<br> +Thus to the dreary mountain-top<br> +Does this poor Woman go?<br> +And why sits she beside the Thorn<br> +When the blue daylight's in the sky,<br> +Or when the whirlwind's on the hill,<br> +Or frosty air is keen and still,<br> +And wherefore does she cry?—<br> +O wherefore? wherefore? tell me why<br> +Does she repeat that doleful cry?"</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">IX</span></td> +<td>"I cannot tell; I wish I could;<br> +For the true reason no one knows:<br> +But would you gladly view the spot,<br> +The spot to which she goes;<br> +The hillock like an infant's grave,<br> +The pond—and Thorn, so old and grey;<br> +Pass by her door—'tis seldom shut—<br> +And, if you see her in her hut—<br> +Then to the spot away!<br> +I never heard of such as dare<br> +Approach the spot when she is there."</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v7"></a><a href="#16v7"><sup>7</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v8"></a><a href="#16v8"><sup>8</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">X</span></td> +<td>"But wherefore to the mountain-top<br> +Can this unhappy Woman go,<br> +Whatever star is in the skies,<br> +Whatever wind may blow?"<br> +"Full twenty years are past and gone<br> +Since she (her name is Martha Ray)<br> +Gave with a maiden's true good-will<br> +Her company to Stephen Hill;<br> +And she was blithe and gay,<br> +While friends and kindred all approved<br> +Of him whom tenderly she loved.<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v9"></a><a href="#16v9"><sup>9</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr16v10"></a><a href="#16v10"><sup>10</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v11"></a><a href="#16v11"><sup>11</sup></a> +</td> + <td></td> + <td>100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XI</span></td> +<td>"And they had fixed the wedding day,<br> +The morning that must wed them both;<br> +But Stephen to another Maid<br> +Had sworn another oath;<br> +And, with this other Maid, to church<br> +Unthinking Stephen went—<br> +Poor Martha! on that woeful day<br> +A pang of pitiless dismay<br> +Into her soul was sent;<br> +A fire was kindled in her breast,<br> +Which might not burn itself to rest. +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v12"></a><a href="#16v12"><sup>12</sup></a> +</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XII</span></td> +<td>"They say, full six months after this,<br> +While yet the summer leaves were green,<br> +She to the mountain-top would go,<br> +And there was often seen.<br> +What could she seek?—or wish to hide?<br> +Her state to any eye was plain;<br> +She was with child, and she was mad;<br> +Yet often was she sober sad<br> +From her exceeding pain.<br> +O guilty Father—would that death<br> +Had saved him from that breach of faith!</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v13"></a><a href="#16v13"><sup>13</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v14"></a><a href="#16v14"><sup>14</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v15"></a><a href="#16v15"><sup>15</sup></a></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XIII</span></td> +<td>"Sad case for such a brain to hold<br> +Communion with a stirring child!<br> +Sad case, as you may think, for one<br> +Who had a brain so wild!<br> +Last Christmas-eve we talked of this,<br> +And grey-haired Wilfred of the glen<br> +Held that the unborn infant wrought<br> +About its mother's heart, and brought<br> +Her senses back again:<br> +And, when at last her time drew near,<br> +Her looks were calm, her senses clear.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v16"></a><a href="#16v16"><sup>16</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XIV</span></td> +<td>"More know I not, I wish I did,<br> +And it should all be told to you;<br> +For what became of this poor child<br> +No mortal ever knew;<br> +Nay—if a child to her was born<br> +No earthly tongue could ever tell;<br> +And if 'twas born alive or dead,<br> +Far less could this with proof be said;<br> +But some remember well,<br> +That Martha Ray about this time<br> +Would up the mountain often climb.</td> + <td><br> +<a name="fr16v17"></a><a href="#16v17"><sup>17</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v18"></a><a href="#16v18"><sup>18</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v19"></a><a href="#16v19"><sup>19</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v20"></a><a href="#16v20"><sup>20</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td></td> + <td>145<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +150<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +155</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XV</span></td> +<td>"And all that winter, when at night<br> +The wind blew from the mountain-peak,<br> +'Twas worth your while, though in the dark,<br> +The churchyard path to seek:<br> +For many a time and oft were heard<br> +Cries coming from the mountain head:<br> +Some plainly living voices were;<br> +And others, I've heard many swear,<br> +Were voices of the dead:<br> +I cannot think, whate'er they say,<br> +They had to do with Martha Ray.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +165<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XVI</span></td> +<td>"But that she goes to this old Thorn,<br> +The Thorn which I described to you,<br> +And there sits in a scarlet cloak,<br> +I will be sworn is true.<br> +For one day with my telescope,<br> +To view the ocean wide and bright,<br> +When to this country first I came,<br> +Ere I had heard of Martha's name,<br> +I climbed the mountain's height:—<br> +A storm came on, and I could see<br> +No object higher than my knee.</td> + <td><br> +<a name="fr16v21"></a><a href="#16v21"><sup>21</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +175<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XVII</span></td> +<td>"'Twas mist and rain, and storm and rain:<br> +No screen, no fence could I discover;<br> +And then the wind! in sooth, it was<br> +A wind full ten times over.<br> +I looked around, I thought I saw<br> +A jutting crag,—and off I ran,<br> +Head-foremost, through the driving rain,<br> +The shelter of the crag to gain;<br> +And, as I am a man,<br> +Instead of jutting crag, I found<br> +A Woman seated on the ground.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v22"></a><a href="#16v22"><sup>22</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +180<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +185<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XVIII</span></td> +<td>"I did not speak—I saw her face;<br> +Her face!—it was enough for me:<br> +I turned about and heard her cry,<br> +'Oh misery! oh misery!'<br> +And there she sits, until the moon<br> +Through half the clear blue sky will go;<br> +And, when the little breezes make<br> +The waters of the pond to shake,<br> +As all the country know,<br> +She shudders, and you hear her cry,<br> +'Oh misery! oh misery!'"</td> + <td><br> +<a name="fr16v23"></a><a href="#16v23"><sup>23</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +190<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +195<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XIX</span></td> +<td>"But what's the Thorn? and what the pond?<br> +And what the hill of moss to her?<br> +And what the creeping breeze that comes<br> +The little pond to stir?"<br> +"I cannot tell; but some will say<br> +She hanged her baby on the tree;<br> +Some say she drowned it in the pond,<br> +Which is a little step beyond:<br> +But all and each agree,<br> +The little Babe was buried there,<br> +Beneath that hill of moss so fair.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v24"></a><a href="#16v24"><sup>24</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td></td> + <td>200<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +205<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +210</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XX</span></td> +<td>"I've heard, the moss is spotted red<br> +With drops of that poor infant's blood;<br> +But kill a new-born infant thus,<br> +I do not think she could!<br> +Some say, if to the pond you go,<br> +And fix on it a steady view,<br> +The shadow of a babe you trace,<br> +A baby and a baby's face,<br> +And that it looks at you;<br> +Whene'er you look on it, 'tis plain<br> +The baby looks at you again.</td> + <td><a name="fr16v25"></a><a href="#16v25"><sup>25</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +215<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +220<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXI</span></td> +<td>"And some had sworn an oath that she<br> +Should be to public justice brought;<br> +And for the little infant's bones<br> +With spades they would have sought.<br> +But instantly the hill of moss<br> +Before their eyes began to stir!<br> +And, for full fifty yards around,<br> +The grass—it shook upon the ground!<br> +Yet all do still aver<br> +The little Babe lies buried there,<br> +Beneath that hill of moss so fair.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v26"></a><a href="#16v26"><sup>26</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr16v27"></a><a href="#16v27"><sup>27</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr16v28"></a><a href="#16v28"><sup>28</sup></a><br></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +225<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +230<br> +<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">XXII</span></td> +<td>"I cannot tell how this may be<br> +But plain it is the Thorn is bound<br> +With heavy tufts of moss that strive<br> +To drag it to the ground;<br> +And this I know, full many a time,<br> +When she was on the mountain high,<br> +By day, and in the silent night,<br> +When all the stars shone clear and bright,<br> +That I have heard her cry,<br> +'Oh misery! oh misery!<br> +Oh woe is me! oh misery!'"</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +235<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +240<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">Compare <i>The Heart of Midlothian</i> (vol. iii. chap. v. edition of 1818): +</span> + <blockquote> "Are ye sure ye ken the way ye are taking us?" said Jeanie, who began + to imagine that she was getting deeper into the woods, and more remote + from the highroad.<br> +<br> + "Do I ken the road? Wasna I mony a day living here, and what for + shouldna I ken the road? I might hae forgotten, too, for it was afore + my accident; but there are some things ane can never forget, let them + try it as muckle as they like."<br> +<br> + By this time they had gained the deepest part of a patch of woodland. + The trees were a little separated from each other, and at the foot of + one of them, a beautiful poplar, was a hillock of moss, such as the + poet of Grasmere has described in the motto to our chapter. So soon as + she arrived at this spot, Madge Wildfire, joining her hands above her + head, with a loud scream that resembled laughter, flung herself all at + once upon the spot, and remained there lying motionless.<br> +<br> + Jeanie's first idea was to take the opportunity of flight; but her + desire to escape yielded for a moment to apprehension for the poor + insane being, who, she thought, might perish for want of relief. With + an effort, which, in her circumstances, might be termed heroic, she + stooped down, spoke in a soothing tone, and tried to raise up the + forlorn creature. She effected this with difficulty, and as she placed + her against the tree in a sitting posture, she observed with surprise, + that her complexion, usually florid, was now deadly pale, and that her + face was bathed in tears. Notwithstanding her own extreme danger, + Jeanie was affected by the situation of her companion; and the rather + that, through the whole train of her wavering and inconsistent state + of mind and line of conduct, she discerned a general colour of + kindness towards herself, for which she felt gratitude.<br> +<br> + "Let me alane!—let me alane!" said the poor young woman, as her + paroxysm of sorrow began to abate. "Let me alane; it does me good to + weep. I canna shed tears but maybe anes or twice a-year, and I aye + come to wet this turf with them, that the flowers may grow fair, and + the grass may be green."<br> +<br> + "But what is the matter with you?" said Jeanie. "Why do you weep so + bitterly?"<br> +<br> + "There's matter enow," replied the lunatic; "mair than ae puir mind + can bear, I trow. Stay a bit, and I'll tell you a' about it; for I + like ye, Jeanie Deans; a'body spoke weel about ye when we lived in the + Pleasaunts. And I mind aye the drink o' milk ye gae me yon day, when I + had been on Arthur's Seat for four-and-twenty hours, looking for the + ship that somebody was sailing in."</blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="16v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... thorny ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... it is overgrown. </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... were ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... had ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>I've measured it from side to side:<br> + 'Tis three feet long<a href="#16i"><sup>i</sup></a> and two feet wide.</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>That's like ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>But if you'd ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The heap that's like ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +In the editions 1798 to 1815. + + <blockquote>Nay rack your brain—'tis all in vain,<br> + I'll tell you every thing I know; <br> + But to the thorn, and to the pond<br> + Which is a little step beyond,<br> + I wish that you would go:<br> + Perhaps when you are at the place<br> + You something of her tale may trace.<br> +<br> +XI<br> +<br> + I'll give you the best help I can:<br> + Before you up the mountain go,<br> + Up to the dreary mountain-top,<br> + I'll tell you all I know.</blockquote> +<a href="#fr16v9">return</a> <br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> 'Tis now some two and twenty years,<br> + <br> + 'Tis known, that twenty years are passed </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v11"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 11:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And she was happy, happy still<br> + Whene'er she thought of Stephen Hill. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v12"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 12:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... on that woful day<br> + A cruel, cruel fire, they say,<br> + Into her bones was sent:<br> + It dried her body like a cinder,<br> + And almost turn'd her brain to tinder. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v12">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v13"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 13:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> 'Tis said, a child was in her womb,<br> + As now to any eye was plain;<br><br> + + 'Tis said, her lamentable state<br> + Even to a careless eye was plain; <br><br> + + Alas! her lamentable state </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v13">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v14"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 14:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... she was... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v14">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v15"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 15:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Oh me! ten thousand times I'd rather<br> + That he had died, that cruel father! </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v15">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v16"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 16:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Last Christmas when we talked of this,<br> + Old Farmer Simpson did maintain,<br> + That in her womb the infant wrought</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v16">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v17"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 17:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>No more I know, I wish I did,<br> + And I would tell it all to you; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v17">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v18"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 18:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> There's none that ever knew: </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v18">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v19"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 19:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And if a child was born or no,<br> + There's no one that could ever tell; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v19">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v20"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 20:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> There's no one knows, as I have said, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v20">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v21"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 21:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... I've described ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v21">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v22"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 22:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... in faith, ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v22">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v23"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 23:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1798</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>In truth, it was ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +The edition of 1815 returns to the text of 1798.<br> +<a href="#fr16v23">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v24"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 24:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... and what's the pond?<br> + And what's the hill of moss to her?<br> + And what's the ...</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v24">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v25"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 25:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> I've heard the scarlet moss is red</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v25">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v26"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 26:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> But then the beauteous hill of moss<br> + <br> + It might not be—the Hill of moss <br> + <br> + But then the beauteous Hill of moss <br> + <br> + + But then the speckled hill of moss </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1827<br> + <br> + 1832 (Returning to the text of 1798.)<br> + <br> + 1836</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v26">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v27"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 27:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>But ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v27">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="16v28"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 28:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... is buried ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr16v28">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="16A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> + + <blockquote> "March 19, 1798. William and Basil and I walked to the hill tops. A + very cold bleak day. William wrote some lines describing a stunted + Thorn"</blockquote> (Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal).—Ed. + + <blockquote>"April 20. Walked in the evening up the hill dividing the coombes. + Came home the Crookham way, by the Thorn, and the little muddy pond"</blockquote> + (Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal).—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr16A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="16i"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote i:</span> </a> Compare in Bürger's <i>Pfarrer's Tochter</i>, "drei Spannen +lang," and see <a href="#section33">Appendix V.</a>—Ed.<br> +<a href="#16v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section17">Goody Blake and Harry Gill</a></h2> + +<i><b>A True Story.</b></i><br> +<br> +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4><br> + +<a href="#section17a">The Poem</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> + <blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Written at Alfoxden. The incident from Dr. Darwin's 'Zoönomia'.—I. + F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">See Erasmus Darwin's <i>Zoönomia</i>, vol. iv. pp. 68-69, ed. 1801. It is the +story of a man named Tullis, narrated by an Italian, Signer L. Storgosi, +in a work called <i>Il Narratore Italiano</i>.</span> + + <blockquote>"I received good information of the truth of the following case, which + was published a few years ago in the newspapers. A young farmer in + Warwickshire, finding his hedges broke, and the sticks carried away + during a frosty season, determined to watch for the thief. He lay many + cold hours under a haystack, and at length an old woman, like a witch + in a play, approached, and began to pull up the hedge; he waited till + she had tied up her bundle of sticks, and was carrying them off, that + he might convict her of the theft, and then springing from his + concealment, he seized his prey with violent threats. After some + altercation, in which her load was left upon the ground, she kneeled + upon her bundle of sticks, and raising her arms to Heaven, beneath the + bright moon then at the full, spoke to the farmer, already shivering + with cold, 'Heaven grant that thou mayest never know again the + blessing to be warm.' He complained of cold all the next day, and wore + an upper coat, and in a few days another, and in a fortnight took to + his bed, always saying nothing made him warm; he covered himself with + many blankets, and had a sieve over his face as he lay; and from this + one insane idea he kept his bed above twenty years for fear of the + cold air, till at length he died."</blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">In the "Advertisement" to the first edition of "Lyrical Ballads," +Wordsworth says, </span> + +<blockquote>"The tale of 'Goody Blake and Harry Gill' is founded on +a well-authenticated fact which happened in Warwickshire."</blockquote> + +The following curious letter appeared in the <i>Ipswich Magazine</i> of April +1799: + + <blockquote>"<b>Ipswich</b>, April 2, 1799.<br> +<br> + "To the Editors of the <i>Ipswich Magazine</i>.<br> +<br> + "<b>Gentlemen</b>—The scarcity of Coal at this time, and the piercing cold + of the weather, cannot fail to be some apology for the depredations + daily committed on the hedges in the neighbourhood. If ever it be + permitted, it ought in the present season. Should there be any Farmer + more rigorous than the rest, let him attend to the poetical story + inserted in page 118 of this Magazine, and tremble at the fate of + Farmer Gill, who was about to prosecute a poor old woman for a similar + offence. The thing is a fact, and told by one of the first physicians + of the present day, as having happened in the south of England, 'and + which has, a short time since', been turned by a <i>lyric poet</i> into + that excellent ballad."</blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">From 1815 to 1843, this poem was classed among those of "the +Imagination." In 1845 it was transferred to the list of "Miscellaneous +Poems."—Ed. +</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="section17a"></a><h4>The Poem</h4><br> + +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>Oh! what's the matter? what's the matter?<br> +What is't that ails young Harry Gill?<br> +That evermore his teeth they chatter,<br> +Chatter, chatter, chatter still!<br> +Of waistcoats Harry has no lack,<br> +Good duffle grey, and flannel fine;<br> +He has a blanket on his back,<br> +And coats enough to smother nine.<br><br> + +In March, December, and in July,<br> +'Tis all the same with Harry Gill;<br> +The neighbours tell, and tell you truly,<br> +His teeth they chatter, chatter still.<br> +At night, at morning, and at noon,<br> +'Tis all the same with Harry Gill;<br> +Beneath the sun, beneath the moon,<br> +His teeth they chatter, chatter still!<br><br> + +Young Harry was a lusty drover,<br> +And who so stout of limb as he?<br> +His cheeks were red as ruddy clover;<br> +His voice was like the voice of three.<br> +Old Goody Blake was old and poor;<br> +Ill fed she was, and thinly clad;<br> +And any man who passed her door<br> +Might see how poor a hut she had.<br><br> + +All day she spun in her poor dwelling:<br> +And then her three hours' work at night,<br> +Alas! 'twas hardly worth the telling,<br> +It would not pay for candle-light.<br> +Remote from sheltered village-green,<br> +On a hill's northern side she dwelt,<br> +Where from sea-blasts the hawthorns lean,<br> +And hoary dews are slow to melt.<br><br> + +By the same fire to boil their pottage,<br> +Two poor old Dames, as I have known,<br> +Will often live in one small cottage;<br> +But she, poor Woman! housed alone.<br> +'Twas well enough when summer came,<br> +The long, warm, lightsome summer-day,<br> +Then at her door the <i>canty</i> Dame<br> +Would sit, as any linnet, gay.<br><br> + +But when the ice our streams did fetter,<br> +Oh then how her old bones would shake;<br> +You would have said, if you had met her,<br> +'Twas a hard time for Goody Blake.<br> +Her evenings then were dull and dead:<br> +Sad case it was, as you may think,<br> +For very cold to go to bed;<br> +And then for cold not sleep a wink.<br><br> + +O joy for her! whene'er in winter<br> +The winds at night had made a rout;<br> +And scattered many a lusty splinter<br> +And many a rotten bough about.<br> +Yet never had she, well or sick,<br> +As every man who knew her says,<br> +A pile beforehand, turf or stick,<br> +Enough to warm her for three days.<br><br> + +Now, when the frost was past enduring,<br> +And made her poor old bones to ache,<br> +Could anything be more alluring<br> +Than an old hedge to Goody Blake?<br> +And, now and then, it must be said,<br> +When her old bones were cold and chill,<br> +She left her fire, or left her bed,<br> +To seek the hedge of Harry Gill.<br><br> + +Now Harry he had long suspected<br> +This trespass of old Goody Blake;<br> +And vowed that she should be detected—<br> +That he on her would vengeance take.<br> +And oft from his warm fire he'd go,<br> +And to the fields his road would take;<br> +And there, at night, in frost and snow,<br> +He watched to seize old Goody Blake.<br><br> + +And once, behind a rick of barley,<br> +Thus looking out did Harry stand:<br> +The moon was full and shining clearly,<br> +And crisp with frost the stubble land.<br> +—He hears a noise—he's all awake—<br> +Again?—on tip-toe down the hill<br> +He softly creeps—'tis Goody Blake;<br> +She's at the hedge of Harry Gill!<br><br> + +Right glad was he when he beheld her:<br> +Stick after stick did Goody pull:<br> +He stood behind a bush of elder,<br> +Till she had filled her apron full.<br> +When with her load she turned about,<br> +The by-way back again to take;<br> +He started forward, with a shout,<br> +And sprang upon poor Goody Blake.<br><br> + +And fiercely by the arm he took her,<br> +And by the arm he held her fast,<br> +And fiercely by the arm he shook her,<br> +And cried, "I've caught you then at last!"<br> +Then Goody, who had nothing said,<br> +Her bundle from her lap let fall;<br> +And, kneeling on the sticks, she prayed<br> +To God that is the judge of all.<br><br> + +She prayed, her withered hand uprearing,<br> +While Harry held her by the arm—<br> +"God! who art never out of hearing,<br> +O may he never more be warm!"<br> +The cold, cold moon above her head,<br> +Thus on her knees did Goody pray;<br> +Young Harry heard what she had said:<br> +And icy cold he turned away.<br><br> +<br> +He went complaining all the morrow<br> +That he was cold and very chill:<br> +His face was gloom, his heart was sorrow,<br> +Alas! that day for Harry Gill!<br> +That day he wore a riding-coat,<br> +But not a whit the warmer he:<br> +Another was on Thursday brought,<br> +And ere the Sabbath he had three.<br><br> + +'Twas all in vain, a useless matter,<br> +And blankets were about him pinned;<br> +Yet still his jaws and teeth they clatter,<br> +Like a loose casement in the wind.<br> +And Harry's flesh it fell away;<br> +And all who see him say, 'tis plain<br> +That, live as long as live he may,<br> +He never will be warm again.<br><br> + +No word to any man he utters,<br> +A-bed or up, to young or old;<br> +But ever to himself he mutters,<br> +"Poor Harry Gill is very cold."<br> +A-bed or up, by night or day;<br> +His teeth they chatter, chatter still.<br> +Now think, ye farmers all, I pray,<br> +Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill!</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr17v1"></a><a href="#17v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr17v2"></a><a href="#17v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr17v3"></a><a href="#17v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr17v4"></a><a href="#17v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr17v5"></a><a href="#17v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr17v6"></a><a href="#17v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<a name="fr17A"></a><a href="#17A"><sup>A</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="17v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Auld</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr17v1">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="17v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> —This woman dwelt in Dorsetshire,<br> + Her hut was on a cold hill-side,<br> + And in that country coals are dear,<br> + For they come far by wind and tide.<br> + <br> + Remote from sheltering village green,<br> + Upon a bleak hill-side, she dwelt,<br> + Where from sea-blasts the hawthorns lean,<br> + And hoary dews are slow to melt.<br> + <br> + On a hill's northern side she dwelt. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr17v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="17v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... dwelt ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr17v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="17v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... wood ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr17v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="17v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr17v5">return</a> <br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="17v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The bye-road ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr17v6">return</a><br> +<br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="17A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> Compare the many entries about "gathering sticks" in the +Alfoxden woods, in Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr17A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section18">Her Eyes are Wild</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Written at Alfoxden. The subject was reported to me by a lady of + Bristol, who had seen the poor creature.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">From 1798 to 1805 this poem was published under the title of <i>The Mad +Mother</i>.<br> +<br> +In the editions of 1815 and 1820 it was ranked as one of the "Poems +founded on the Affections." In the editions of 1827 and 1832, it was +classed as one of the "Poems of the Imagination." In 1836 and +afterwards, it was replaced among the "Poems founded on the +Affections."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><i>stanza</i></td> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">I</span></td> +<td>Her eyes are wild, her head is bare,<br> +The sun has burnt her coal-black hair;<br> +Her eyebrows have a rusty stain,<br> +And she came far from over the main.<br> +She has a baby on her arm,<br> +Or else she were alone:<br> +And underneath the hay-stack warm,<br> +And on the greenwood stone,<br> +She talked and sung the woods among,<br> +And it was in the English tongue.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">II</span></td> +<td>"Sweet babe! they say that I am mad<br> +But nay, my heart is far too glad;<br> +And I am happy when I sing<br> +Full many a sad and doleful thing:<br> +Then, lovely baby, do not fear!<br> +I pray thee have no fear of me;<br> +But safe as in a cradle, here<br> +My lovely baby! thou shalt be:<br> +To thee I know too much I owe;<br> +I cannot work thee any woe.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">III</span></td> +<td>"A fire was once within my brain;<br> +And in my head a dull, dull pain;<br> +And fiendish faces, one, two, three,<br> +Hung at my breast, and pulled at me;<br> +But then there came a sight of joy;<br> +It came at once to do me good;<br> +I waked, and saw my little boy,<br> +My little boy of flesh and blood;<br> +Oh joy for me that sight to see!<br> +For he was here, and only he.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr18v1"></a><a href="#18v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">IV</span></td> +<td>"Suck, little babe, oh suck again!<br> +It cools my blood; it cools my brain;<br> +Thy lips I feel them, baby! they<br> +Draw from my heart the pain away.<br> +Oh! press me with thy little hand;<br> +It loosens something at my chest;<br> +About that tight and deadly band<br> +I feel thy little fingers prest.<br> +The breeze I see is in the tree:<br> +It comes to cool my babe and me.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">V</span></td> +<td>Oh! love me, love me, little boy!<br> +Thou art thy mother's only joy;<br> +And do not dread the waves below,<br> +When o'er the sea-rock's edge we go;<br> +The high crag cannot work me harm,<br> +Nor leaping torrents when they howl;<br> +The babe I carry on my arm,<br> +He saves for me my precious soul;<br> +Then happy lie; for blest am I;<br> +Without me my sweet babe would die.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VI</span></td> +<td>"Then do not fear, my boy! for thee<br> + Bold as a lion will I be;<br> + And I will always be thy guide,<br> + Through hollow snows and rivers wide.<br> + I'll build an Indian bower; I know<br> + The leaves that make the softest bed:<br> + And, if from me thou wilt not go,<br> + But still be true till I am dead,<br> + My pretty thing! then thou shall sing<br> + As merry as the birds in spring.</td> + <td><br> +<a name="fr18v2"></a><a href="#18v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VII</span></td> +<td>"Thy father cares not for my breast,<br> +'Tis thine, sweet baby, there to rest;<br> +'Tis all thine own!—and, if its hue<br> +Be changed, that was so fair to view,<br> +'Tis fair enough for thee, my dove!<br> +My beauty, little child, is flown,<br> +But thou wilt live with me in love;<br> +And what if my poor cheek be brown?<br> +'Tis well for me, thou canst not see<br> +How pale and wan it else would be.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VIII</span></td> +<td>"Dread not their taunts, my little Life;<br> +I am thy father's wedded wife;<br> +And underneath the spreading tree<br> +We two will live in honesty.<br> +If his sweet boy he could forsake,<br> +With me he never would have stayed:<br> +From him no harm my babe can take;<br> +But he, poor man! is wretched made;<br> +And every day we two will pray<br> +For him that's gone and far away.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">IX</span></td> +<td>"I'll teach my boy the sweetest things:<br> +I'll teach him how the owlet sings.<br> +My little babe! thy lips are still,<br> +And thou hast almost sucked thy fill.<br> +—Where art thou gone, my own dear child?<br> +What wicked looks are those I see?<br> +Alas! alas! that look so wild,<br> +It never, never came from me:<br> +If thou art mad, my pretty lad,<br> +Then I must be for ever sad.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">X</span></td> +<td>"Oh! smile on me, my little lamb!<br> +For I thy own dear mother am:<br> +My love for thee has well been tried:<br> +I've sought thy father far and wide.<br> +I know the poisons of the shade;<br> +I know the earth-nuts fit for food:<br> +Then, pretty dear, be not afraid:<br> +We'll find thy father in the wood.<br> +Now laugh and be gay, to the woods away!<br> +And there, my babe, we'll live for aye."</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr18A"></a><a href="#18A"><sup>A</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="18v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... breasts ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr18v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="18v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1832</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... I will be;</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr18v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="18A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> + + <blockquote>"For myself, I would rather have written <i>The Mad Mother</i> than all the + works of all the Bolingbrokes and Sheridans, those brilliant meteors, + that have been exhaled from the morasses of human depravity since the + loss of Paradise."</blockquote> + +(S. T. C. to W. Godwin, 9th December 1800.) See <i>William Godwin: his +Friends and Contemporaries</i>, vol. ii. p. l4.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr18A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section19">Simon Lee, the Old Huntsman</a></h2> + <i><b>with an incident in which he was concerned.</b></i><br> + <br> + <h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + + <blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">This old man had been huntsman to the Squires of Alfoxden, which, at + the time we occupied it, belonged to a minor. The old man's cottage + stood upon the Common, a little way from the entrance to Alfoxden + Park. But it had disappeared. Many other changes had taken place in + the adjoining village, which I could not but notice with a regret more + natural than well-considered. Improvements but rarely appear such to + those who, after long intervals of time, revisit places they have had + much pleasure in. It is unnecessary to add, the fact was as mentioned + in the poem; and I have, after an interval of forty-five years, the + image of the old man as fresh before my eyes as if I had seen him + yesterday. The expression when the hounds were out, 'I dearly love + their voice,' was word for word from his own lips.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">This poem was classed among those of "Sentiment and Reflection."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>In the sweet shire of Cardigan,<br> +Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall,<br> +An old Man dwells, a little man,—<br> +'Tis said he once was tall.<br> +Full five-and-thirty years he lived<br> +A running huntsman merry;<br> +And still the centre of his cheek<br> +Is red as a ripe cherry.<br><br> + +No man like him the horn could sound,<br> +And hill and valley rang with glee:<br> +When Echo bandied, round and round,<br> +The halloo of Simon Lee.<br> +In those proud days, he little cared<br> +For husbandry or tillage;<br> +To blither tasks did Simon rouse<br> +The sleepers of the village.<br><br> + +He all the country could outrun,<br> +Could leave both man and horse behind;<br> +And often, ere the chase was done,<br> +He reeled, and was stone blind.<br> +And still there's something in the world<br> +At which his heart rejoices;<br> +For when the chiming hounds are out,<br> +He dearly loves their voices!<br><br> + +But, oh the heavy change!—bereft<br> +Of health, strength, friends, and kindred, see!<br> +Old Simon to the world is left<br> +In liveried poverty.<br> +His Master's dead,—and no one now<br> +Dwells in the Hall of Ivor;<br> +Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;<br> +He is the sole survivor.<br><br> + +And he is lean and he is sick;<br> +His body, dwindled and awry,<br> +Rests upon ankles swoln and thick;<br> +His legs are thin and dry.<br> +One prop he has, and only one,<br> +His wife, an aged woman,<br> +Lives with him, near the waterfall,<br> +Upon the village Common.<br><br> + +Beside their moss-grown hut of clay,<br> +Not twenty paces from the door,<br> +A scrap of land they have, but they<br> +Are poorest of the poor.<br> +This scrap of land he from the heath<br> +Enclosed when he was stronger;<br> +But what to them avails the land<br> +Which he can till no longer?<br><br> + +Oft, working by her Husband's side,<br> +Ruth does what Simon cannot do;<br> +For she, with scanty cause for pride,<br> +Is stouter of the two.<br> +And, though you with your utmost skill<br> +From labour could not wean them,<br> +'Tis little, very little—all<br> +That they can do between them.<br><br> + +Few months of life has he in store<br> +As he to you will tell,<br> +For still, the more he works, the more<br> +Do his weak ankles swell.<br> +My gentle Reader, I perceive<br> +How patiently you've waited,<br> +And now I fear that you expect<br> +Some tale will be related.<br><br> + +O Reader! had you in your mind<br> +Such stores as silent thought can bring,<br> +O gentle Reader! you would find<br> +A tale in every thing.<br> +What more I have to say is short,<br> +And you must kindly take it:<br> +It is no tale; but, should you think,<br> +Perhaps a tale you'll make it.<br><br> + +One summer-day I chanced to see<br> +This old Man doing all he could<br> +To unearth the root of an old tree,<br> +A stump of rotten wood.<br> +The mattock tottered in his hand;<br> +So vain was his endeavour,<br> +That at the root of the old tree<br> +He might have worked for ever.<br><br> + +"You're overtasked, good Simon Lee,<br> +Give me your tool," to him I said;<br> +And at the word right gladly he<br> +Received my proffered aid.<br> +I struck, and with a single blow<br> +The tangled root I severed,<br> +At which the poor old Man so long<br> +And vainly had endeavoured.<br><br> + +The tears into his eyes were brought,<br> +And thanks and praises seemed to run<br> +So fast out of his heart, I thought<br> +They never would have done.<br> +—I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds<br> +With coldness still returning;<br> +Alas! the gratitude of men<br> +Hath oftener left me mourning.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v1"></a><a href="#19v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr19v2"></a><a href="#19v2"><sup>2</sup></a> / <a name="fr19v3"></a><a href="#19v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v4"></a><a href="#19v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v5"></a><a href="#19v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v6"></a><a href="#19v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v7"></a><a href="#19v7"><sup>7</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v8"></a><a href="#19v8"><sup>8</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v9"></a><a href="#19v9"><sup>9</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v10"></a><a href="#19v10"><sup>10</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v11"></a><a href="#19v11"><sup>11</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v12"></a><a href="#19v12"><sup>12</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v13"></a><a href="#19v13"><sup>13</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v14"></a><a href="#19v14"><sup>14</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v15"></a><a href="#19v15"><sup>15</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v16"></a><a href="#19v16"><sup>16</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr19v17"></a><a href="#19v17"><sup>17</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v18"></a><a href="#19v18"><sup>18</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19v19"></a><a href="#19v19"><sup>19</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19A"></a><a href="#19A"><sup>A</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19B"></a><a href="#19B"><sup>B</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr19C"></a><a href="#19C"><sup>C</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="19v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> I've heard ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +In editions 1798 to 1815 the following is inserted: + +<blockquote>Of years he has upon his back,<br> + No doubt, a burthen weighty;<br> + He says he is three score and ten,<br> + But others say he's eighty.<br> + <br> + A long blue livery-coat has he,<br> + That's fair behind, and fair before;<br> + Yet, meet him where you will, you see<br> + At once that he is poor.</blockquote> +<a href="#fr19v2">return</a> <br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... five and twenty ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And, though he has but one eye left,<br> + His cheek is like a cherry. <br> + <br> + And still the centre of his cheek<br> + Is blooming as a cherry. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> No man like him the horn could sound,<br> + And no man was so full of glee;<br> + To say the least, four counties round<br> + Had heard of Simon Lee;<br> + His master's dead, and no one now<br> + Dwells in the hall of Ivor;<br> + Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;<br> + He is the sole survivor. <br> + <br> + Worn out by hunting feats—bereft<br> + By time of friends and kindred, see!<br> + Old Simon to the world is left<br> + In liveried poverty.<br> + His Master's dead, ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +The fourth stanza of the final edition being second in 1827, and the +second stanza being third in 1827.<br> +<a href="#fr19v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... race ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<blockquote>Of strength, of friends, and kindred, see.</blockquote> + +In MS. letter to Allan Cunningham, Nov. 1828.<br> +<a href="#fr19v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1832</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>His hunting feats have him bereft<br> + Of his right eye, as you may see:<br> + And then, what limbs those feats have left<br> + To poor old Simon Lee!<br> + He has no son, he has no child,<br> + His wife, an aged woman,<br> + Lives with him, near the waterfall,<br> + Upon the village common. <br> + <br> + His hunting feats have him bereft<br> + Of his right eye, as you may see,<br> + And Simon to the world is left,<br> + In liveried poverty.<br> + When he was young he little knew<br> + Of husbandry or tillage;<br> + And now is forced to work, though weak,<br> + —The weakest in the village. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1798</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> But ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +The text of 1832 reverts to that of 1798.<br> +<a href="#fr19v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>His little body's half awry,<br> + His ancles they are swoln and thick;<br> + His legs are thin and dry.<br> + When he was young he little knew<br> + Of husbandry or tillage;<br> + And now he's forced to work, though weak,<br> + —The weakest in the village.<br> + <br> + His dwindled body's half awry, <br> + <br> + His ancles, too, are swoln and thick;<br> + <br> + And now is forced to work,<br> + <br> + His dwindled body half awry,<br> + Rests upon ancles swoln and thick;<br> + His legs are thin and dry.<br> + He has no son, he has no child,<br> + His Wife, an aged woman,<br> + Lives with him, near the waterfall,<br> + Upon the village Common. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + 1800<br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + 1815<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v11"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 11:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>But what avails the land to them,<br> + Which they can till no longer?<br> + <br> + "But what," saith he, "avails the land,<br> + Which I can till no longer?" <br> + <br> + But what avails it now, the land<br> + Which he can till no longer? <br> + <br> + 'Tis his, but what avails the land<br> + Which he can till no longer? <br> + <br> + The time, alas! is come when he<br> + Can till the land no longer. <br> + <br> + The time is also come when he<br> + Can till the land no longer. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1827<br> + <br> + <br> + 1832<br> + <br> + <br> + 1837<br> + <br> + <br> + 1840<br> + <br> + <br> + C.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v12"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 12:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Old Ruth works out of doors with him,<br> + And does what Simon cannot do;<br> + For she, not over stout of limb, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v12">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v13"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 13:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1840</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Alas! 'tis very little, all<br> + Which they can ... <br> + <br> + That they can ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + 1837</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v13">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v14"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 14:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>His poor old ancles swell. </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v14">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v15"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 15:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And I'm afraid ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v15">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v16"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 16:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> I hope you'll ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v16">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v17"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 17:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1798</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... <i>think</i>,</blockquote></td> + <td>In the editions 1832 to 1843.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v17">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v18"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 18:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> About the root ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v18">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19v19"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 19:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Has oftner ...<br> + <br> + Has oftener ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1805</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr19v19">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="19A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> Note that the phrase: 'But oh the heavy change,' occurs in +Milton's <i>Lycidas</i>. (Professor Dowden.) See <i>Lycidas</i>, l. 37.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr19A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> Compare Shakspeare's Sonnet, No. xxx.: + + <blockquote>When to the sessions of sweet silent thought<br> + I summon up remembrance of things past;</blockquote> + +and in Spenser's <i>An epitaph upon the Right Honourable Sir Phillip +Sidney, Knight; Lord governor of Flushing.</i> + + <blockquote>Farewell, self-pleasing thoughts, which quietness brings forth.</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr19B">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="19C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> See <a href="#section34">Appendix VI.</a> to this volume.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr19C">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section20">Lines written in Early Spring</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Actually composed while I was sitting by the side of the brook that + runs down from the <i>Comb</i>, in which stands the village of Alford, + through the grounds of Alfoxden. It was a chosen resort of mine. The + brook ran down a sloping rock, so as to make a waterfall, considerable + for that county; and across the pool below had fallen a tree—an ash + if I rightly remember—from which rose perpendicularly, boughs in + search of the light intercepted by the deep shade above. The boughs + bore leaves of green, that for want of sunshine had faded into almost + lily-white; and from the underside of this natural sylvan bridge + depended long and beautiful tresses of ivy, which waved gently in the + breeze, that might, poetically speaking, be called the breath of the + waterfall. This motion varied of course in proportion to the power of + water in the brook. <a name="fr20A">When</a>, with dear friends, I revisited this spot, + after an interval of more than forty years<a href="#20A"><sup>A</sup></a>, this interesting + feature of the scene was gone. To the owner of the place I could not + but regret that the beauty of this retired part of the grounds had not + tempted him to make it more accessible by a path, not broad or + obtrusive, but sufficient for persons who love such scenes to creep + along without difficulty.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + + +<span style="color: #555555;">These <i>Lines</i> were included among the "Poems of Sentiment +and Reflection."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>I heard a thousand blended notes,<br> +While in a grove I sate reclined,<br> +In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts<br> +Bring sad thoughts to the mind.<br><br> + +To her fair works did Nature link <br> +The human soul that through me ran;<br> +And much it grieved my heart to think<br> +What man has made of man.<br><br> + +Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,<br> +The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; <br> +And 'tis my faith that every flower<br> +Enjoys the air it breathes.<br><br> + +The birds around me hopped and played,<br> +Their thoughts I cannot measure:—<br> +But the least motion which they made,<br> +It seemed a thrill of pleasure.<br><br> + +The budding twigs spread out their fan,<br> +To catch the breezy air;<br> +And I must think, do all I can,<br> +That there was pleasure there. <br><br> + +If this belief from heaven be sent,<br> +If such be Nature's holy plan,<br> +Have I not reason to lament<br> +What man has made of man?</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<a name="fr20v1"></a><a href="#20v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<a name="fr20v2"></a><a href="#20v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr20B"></a><a href="#20B"><sup>B</sup></a><br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">This Alfoxden dell, once known locally as "The Mare's Pool," was a +trysting-place of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and their friends. Coleridge +thus describes it, in his poem beginning "This Lime-Tree Bower, my +Prison," addressed to Charles Lamb:</span> + + <blockquote>The roaring dell, o'er-wooded, narrow, deep,<br> + And only speckled by the midday sun;<br> + Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock<br> + Flings arching like a bridge;—that branchless ash,<br> + Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves<br> + Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still,<br> + Fanned by the waterfall!</blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">Of all the localities around Alfoxden, this grove is the one chiefly +associated with Wordsworth. There was no path to the waterfall, as +suggested by the Poet to the owner of the place, in 1840; but, in 1880, +I found the "natural sylvan bridge" restored. An ash tree, having fallen +across the glen, reproduced the scene exactly as it is described in the +Fenwick note.—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="20v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... sweet</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr20v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="20v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>If I these thoughts may not prevent,<br> + If such be of my creed the plan,<br> + <br> + If this belief from Heaven is sent,<br> + If such be nature's holy plan, <br> + <br> + From Heaven if this belief be sent, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr20v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="20A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> See the Fenwick note to "A whirl-blast from behind the +hill," p. 238.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr20A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="20B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> See <a href="#section35">Appendix VII.</a>—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr20B">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section21">To my Sister</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + + <blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Composed in front of Alfoxden House. My little boy-messenger on this + occasion was the son of Basil Montagu. The larch mentioned in the + first stanza was standing when I revisited the place in May 1841, more + than forty years after. I was disappointed that it had not improved in + appearance as to size, nor had it acquired anything of the majesty of + age, which, even though less perhaps than any other tree, the larch + sometimes does. A few score yards from this tree, grew, when we + inhabited Alfoxden, one of the most remarkable beech-trees ever seen. + The ground sloped both towards and from it. It was of immense size, + and threw out arms that struck into the soil, like those of the + banyan-tree, and rose again from it. Two of the branches thus inserted + themselves twice, which gave to each the appearance of a serpent + moving along by gathering itself up in folds. One of the large boughs + of this tree had been torn off by the wind before we left Alfoxden, + but five remained. In 1841 we could barely find the spot where the + tree had stood. So remarkable a production of nature could not have + been wilfully destroyed.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">In the editions 1798 to 1815 the title of this poem was, <i>Lines written +at a small distance from my House, and sent by my little Boy to the +person to whom they are addressed</i>. From 1820 to 1843 the title was, <i>To +my Sister; written at a small distance from my House, and sent by my +little Boy</i>. In 1845 and afterwards, it was simply <i>To my Sister</i>. The +poem was placed by Wordsworth among those of "Sentiment and +Reflection."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>It is the first mild day of March:<br> +Each minute sweeter than before<br> +The redbreast sings from the tall larch<br> +That stands beside our door.<br><br> + +There is a blessing in the air,<br> +Which seems a sense of joy to yield<br> +To the bare trees, and mountains bare,<br> +And grass in the green field.<br><br> + +My sister! ('tis a wish of mine)<br> +Now that our morning meal is done,<br> +Make haste, your morning task resign;<br> +Come forth and feel the sun.<br><br> + +Edward will come with you;—and, pray,<br> +Put on with speed your woodland dress;<br> +And bring no book: for this one day<br> +We'll give to idleness.<br><br> + +No joyless forms shall regulate<br> +Our living calendar:<br> +We from to-day, my Friend, will date<br> +The opening of the year.<br><br> + +Love, now a universal birth,<br> +From heart to heart is stealing,<br> +From earth to man, from man to earth:<br> +—It is the hour of feeling.<br><br> + +One moment now may give us more <br> +Than years of toiling reason:<br> +Our minds shall drink at every pore<br> +The spirit of the season.<br><br> + +Some silent laws our hearts will make,<br> +Which they shall long obey: <br> +We for the year to come may take<br> +Our temper from to-day.<br><br> + +And from the blessed power that rolls<br> +About, below, above,<br> +We'll frame the measure of our souls: <br> +They shall be tuned to love.<br><br> + +Then come, my Sister! come, I pray,<br> +With speed put on your woodland dress;<br> +And bring no book: for this one day<br> +We'll give to idleness. </td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<a name="fr21v1"></a><a href="#21v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<a name="fr21v2"></a><a href="#21v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<a name="fr21v3"></a><a href="#21v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +40</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<span style="color: #555555;">The larch is now gone; but the place where it stood can easily be +identified.—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="21v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... an ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr21v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="21v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Than fifty years of reason; </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr21v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="21v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... may. </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr21v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section22">Expostulation and Reply</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;"><a name="fr22A">This</a> poem is a favourite among the Quakers, as I have learned on many + occasions. It was composed in front of the house of Alfoxden, in the + spring of 1798.<a href="#22A"><sup>A</sup></a>—I.F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>"Why, William, on that old grey stone,<br> +Thus for the length of half a day,<br> +Why, William, sit you thus alone,<br> +And dream your time away?<br><br> + +"Where are your books?—that light bequeathed<br> +To Beings else forlorn and blind!<br> +Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed<br> +From dead men to their kind.<br><br> + +"You look round on your Mother Earth,<br> +As if she for no purpose bore you;<br> +As if you were her first-born birth,<br> +And none had lived before you!"<br><br> + +One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake,<br> +When life was sweet, I knew not why,<br> +To me my good friend Matthew spake,<br> +And thus I made reply.<br><br> + +"The eye—it cannot choose but see;<br> +We cannot bid the ear be still;<br> +Our bodies feel, where'er they be,<br> +Against or with our will.<br><br> + +"Nor less I deem that there are Powers<br> +Which of themselves our minds impress;<br> +That we can feed this mind of ours<br> +In a wise passiveness.<br><br> + +"Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum<br> +Of things for ever speaking,<br> +That nothing of itself will come,<br> +But we must still be seeking?<br><br> + +"—Then ask not wherefore, here, alone,<br> +Conversing as I may,<br> +I sit upon this old grey stone,<br> +And dream my time away."</td> + + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +30<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="22A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> In his "Advertisement" to the first edition of "Lyrical +Ballads" (1798) Wordsworth writes, + + <blockquote>"The lines entitled 'Expostulation and Reply', and those which follow, + arose out of conversation with a friend who was somewhat unreasonably + attached to modern books of Moral Philosophy." </blockquote> + +Was the friend Sir James Mackintosh? or was it —a much more probable +supposition—his friend, S. T. Coleridge?—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr22A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section23">The Tables Turned</a></h2> + +<b><i>an evening scene on the same subject.</i></b><br> +<br> +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + +<span style="color: #555555;">Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;<br> +Or surely you'll grow double:<br> +Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;<br> +Why all this toil and trouble?<br><br> + +The sun, above the mountain's head,<br> +A freshening lustre mellow<br> +Through all the long green fields has spread,<br> +His first sweet evening yellow.<br><br> + +Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:<br> +Come, hear the woodland linnet,<br> +How sweet his music! on my life,<br> +There's more of wisdom in it.<br><br> + +And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!<br> +He, too, is no mean preacher:<br> +Come forth into the light of things,<br> +Let Nature be your Teacher.<br><br> + +She has a world of ready wealth,<br> +Our minds and hearts to bless—<br> +Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,<br> +Truth breathed by cheerfulness.<br><br> + +One impulse from a vernal wood<br> +May teach you more of man,<br> +Of moral evil and of good,<br> +Than all the sages can.<br><br> + +Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;<br> +Our meddling intellect<br> +Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:—<br> +We murder to dissect.<br><br> + +Enough of Science and of Art;<br> +Close up those barren leaves;<br> +Come forth, and bring with you a heart<br> +That watches and receives.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr23v1"></a><a href="#23v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<a name="fr23v2"></a><a href="#23v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<a name="fr23v3"></a><a href="#23v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr23A"></a><a href="#23A"><sup>A</sup></a><br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +30<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="23v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks,<br> + Why all this toil and trouble?<br> + Up! up! my friend, and quit your books,<br> + Or surely you'll grow double.</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr23v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="23v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And he is ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr23v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="23v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... these ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr23v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="23A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> A mediæval anticipation of this may be quoted in a +footnote. + + <blockquote>"Believe me, as my own experience," once said St. Bernard, "you will + find more in the woods than in books; the forests and rocks will teach + you more than you can learn from the greatest Masters." </blockquote> + +I quote this, as sent to me by a friend; but the only passage at all +approaching to it which I can verify is the following: + + <blockquote>"Quidquid in Scripturis valet, quidquid in eis spiritualiter sentit, + maxime in silvis et in agris meditando et orando se confitetur + accepisse, et in hoc nullos aliquando se magistros habuisse nisi + quercus et fagos joco illo suo gratioso inter amicos dicere solet." </blockquote> + +See the appendix to Mabillon's edition of <i>Bernardi Opera</i>, ii. 1072, +<i>S. Bernardi Vita, et Res Gesta, auctore Guilielmo</i>.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr23A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section24">The Complaint of a Forsaken Indian Woman</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + +When a Northern Indian, from sickness, is unable to continue his journey +with his companions; he is left behind, covered over with Deer-skins, +and is supplied with water, food, and fuel if the situation of the place +will afford it. He is informed of the track which his companions intend +to pursue, and if he is unable to follow, or overtake them, he perishes +alone in the Desart; unless he should have the good fortune to fall in +with some other Tribes of Indians. It is unnecessary to add that the +females are equally, or still more, exposed to the same fate. See that +very interesting work, Hearne's 'Journey from Hudson's Bay to the +Northern Ocean'. When the Northern Lights, as the same writer informs +us, vary their position in the air, they make a rustling and a crackling +noise. This circumstance is alluded to in the first stanza of the +following poem.—W. W. 1798. + + <blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">At Alfoxden, in 1798, where I read Hearne's 'Journey' with deep + interest. It was composed for the volume of "Lyrical Ballads."—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">Classed among the "Poems founded on the Affections." —Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><i>stanza</i></td> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">I</span></td> +<td>Before I see another day,<br> +Oh let my body die away!<br> +In sleep I heard the northern gleams;<br> +The stars, they were among my dreams;<br> +In rustling conflict through the skies,<br> +I heard, I saw the flashes drive,<br> +And yet they are upon my eyes,<br> +And yet I am alive;<br> +Before I see another day,<br> +Oh let my body die away!</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr24v1"></a><a href="#24v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr24v2"></a><a href="#24v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr24v3"></a><a href="#24v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">II</span></td> +<td>My fire is dead: it knew no pain;<br> +Yet is it dead, and I remain:<br> +All stiff with ice the ashes lie;<br> +And they are dead, and I will die.<br> +When I was well, I wished to live,<br> +For clothes, for warmth, for food, and fire<br> +But they to me no joy can give,<br> +No pleasure now, and no desire.<br> +Then here contented will I lie!<br> +Alone, I cannot fear to die.</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">III</span></td> +<td>Alas! ye might have dragged me on<br> +Another day, a single one!<br> +Too soon I yielded to despair;<br> +Why did ye listen to my prayer?<br> +When ye were gone my limbs were stronger;<br> +And oh, how grievously I rue,<br> +That, afterwards, a little longer,<br> +My friends, I did not follow you!<br> +For strong and without pain I lay,<br> +Dear friends, when ye were gone away.</td> + <td><a name="fr24v4"></a><a href="#24v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr24v5"></a><a href="#24v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr24v6"></a><a href="#24v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr24v7"></a><a href="#24v7"><sup>7</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">IV</span></td> +<td>My Child! they gave thee to another,<br> +A woman who was not thy mother.<br> +When from my arms my Babe they took,<br> +On me how strangely did he look!<br> +Through his whole body something ran,<br> +A most strange working did I see;<br> +—As if he strove to be a man,<br> +That he might pull the sledge for me:<br> +And then he stretched his arms, how wild!<br> +Oh mercy! like a helpless child.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr24v8"></a><a href="#24v8"><sup>8</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr24v9"></a><a href="#24v9"><sup>9</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">V</span></td> +<td>My little joy! my little pride!<br> +In two days more I must have died.<br> +Then do not weep and grieve for me;<br> +I feel I must have died with thee.<br> +O wind, that o'er my head art flying<br> +The way my friends their course did bend,<br> +I should not feel the pain of dying,<br> +Could I with thee a message send;<br> +Too soon, my friends, ye went away;<br> +For I had many things to say.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr24v10"></a><a href="#24v10"><sup>10</sup></a><br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VI</span></td> +<td>I'll follow you across the snow;<br> +Ye travel heavily and slow;<br> +In spite of all my weary pain<br> +I'll look upon your tents again.<br> +—My fire is dead, and snowy white <br> +The water which beside it stood:<br> +The wolf has come to me to-night,<br> +And he has stolen away my food.<br> +For ever left alone am I;<br> +Then wherefore should I fear to die?</td> + <td><br> +<a name="fr24v11"></a><a href="#24v11"><sup>11</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VII</span></td> +<td>Young as I am, my course is run,<br> +I shall not see another sun;<br> +I cannot lift my limbs to know<br> +If they have any life or no.<br> +My poor forsaken Child, if I <br> +For once could have thee close to me,<br> +With happy heart I then would die,<br> +And my last thought would happy be;<br> +But thou, dear Babe, art far away,<br> +Nor shall I see another day.</td> + <td><a name="fr24v12"></a><a href="#24v12"><sup>12</sup></a> / <a name="fr24v13"></a><a href="#24v13"><sup>13</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr24v14"></a><a href="#24v14"><sup>14</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr24v15"></a><a href="#24v15"><sup>15</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="24v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1798</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The stars were mingled with my dreams; </blockquote></td> + <td>1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +The text of 1836 returns to that of 1798.<br> +<a href="#fr24v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>In sleep did I behold the skies</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>I saw the crackling flashes drive;<br> + <br> + I heard, and saw the flashes drive; </blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1820</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... you ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Too soon despair o'er me prevailed;<br> + Too soon my heartless spirit failed; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... you ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1845</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>My friends, when you ...<br> + <br> + ... when ye ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1815</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> A most strange something .... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... a little child. </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... you ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v11"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 11:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>You ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v12"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 12:</span></a> +This stanza was omitted in the editions 1815 to 1832, but +restored in 1836.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr24v12">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v13"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 13:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> My journey will be shortly run, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v13">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v14"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 14:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... I then would die,<br> + And my last thoughts ... <br> + <br> + ... I then should die,<br> +<br> + </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + 1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v14">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="24v15"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 15:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> I feel my body die away,<br> + I shall not see another day. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr24v15">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section25">The Last of the Flock</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + + <blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Produced at the same time as 'The Complaint', and for the same + purpose. The incident occurred in the village of Holford, close by + Alfoxden.—I. F</span></blockquote>. + +<span style="color: #555555;">Included among the "Poems founded on the Affections."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>stanza</i></td> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">I</span></td> +<td>In distant countries have I been,<br> +And yet I have not often seen<br> +A healthy man, a man full grown,<br> +Weep in the public roads, alone.<br> +But such a one, on English ground,<br> +And in the broad highway, I met;<br> +Along the broad highway he came,<br> +His cheeks with tears were wet:<br> +Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;<br> +And in his arms a Lamb he had.</td> + <td><a name="fr25v1"></a><a href="#25v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">II</span></td> +<td>He saw me, and he turned aside,<br> +As if he wished himself to hide:<br> +And with his coat did then essay<br> +To wipe those briny tears away.<br> +I followed him, and said, "My friend,<br> +What ails you? wherefore weep you so?"<br> +—"Shame on me, Sir! this lusty Lamb,<br> +He makes my tears to flow.<br> +To-day I fetched him from the rock:<br> +He is the last of all my flock.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<a name="fr25v2"></a><a href="#25v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">III</span></td> +<td>"When I was young, a single man,<br> +And after youthful follies ran,<br> +Though little given to care and thought,<br> +Yet, so it was, an ewe I bought;<br> +And other sheep from her I raised,<br> +As healthy sheep as you might see;<br> +And then I married, and was rich<br> +As I could wish to be;<br> +Of sheep I numbered a full score,<br> +And every year increased my store.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr25v3"></a><a href="#25v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">IV</span></td> +<td>"Year after year my stock it grew;<br> +And from this one, this single ewe,<br> +Full fifty comely sheep I raised,<br> +As fine a flock as ever grazed!<br> +Upon the Quantock hills they fed;<br> +They throve, and we at home did thrive:<br> +—This lusty Lamb of all my store<br> +Is all that is alive;<br> +And now I care not if we die,<br> +And perish all of poverty.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr25v4"></a><a href="#25v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr25v5"></a><a href="#25v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">V</span></td> +<td>"Six Children, Sir! had I to feed;<br> +Hard labour in a time of need!<br> +My pride was tamed, and in our grief<br> +I of the Parish asked relief.<br> +They said, I was a wealthy man;<br> +My sheep upon the uplands fed,<br> +And it was fit that thence I took<br> +Whereof to buy us bread.<br> +'Do this: how can we give to you,'<br> +They cried, 'what to the poor is due?'</td> + <td><a name="fr25v6"></a><a href="#25v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr25v7"></a><a href="#25v7"><sup>7</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VI</span></td> +<td>"I sold a sheep, as they had said,<br> +And bought my little children bread,<br> +And they were healthy with their food;<br> +For me—it never did me good.<br> +A woeful time it was for me,<br> +To see the end of all my gains,<br> +The pretty flock which I had reared<br> +With all my care and pains,<br> +To see it melt like snow away—<br> +For me it was a woeful day.</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VII</span></td> +<td>"Another still! and still another!<br> +A little lamb, and then its mother!<br> +It was a vein that never stopped—<br> +Like blood-drops from my heart they dropped.<br> +'Till thirty were not left alive<br> +They dwindled, dwindled, one by one;<br> +And I may say, that many a time<br> +I wished they all were gone—<br> +Reckless of what might come at last<br> +Were but the bitter struggle past.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr25v8"></a><a href="#25v8"><sup>8</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">VIII</span></td> +<td>"To wicked deeds I was inclined,<br> +And wicked fancies crossed my mind;<br> +And every man I chanced to see,<br> +I thought he knew some ill of me:<br> +No peace, no comfort could I find,<br> +No ease, within doors or without;<br> +And, crazily and wearily<br> +I went my work about;<br> +And oft was moved to flee from home,<br> +And hide my head where wild beasts roam.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr25v9"></a><a href="#25v9"><sup>9</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">IX</span></td> +<td>"Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me,<br> +As dear as my own children be;<br> +For daily with my growing store<br> +I loved my children more and more.<br> +Alas! it was an evil time;<br> +God cursed me in my sore distress;<br> +I prayed, yet every day I thought<br> +I loved my children less;<br> +And every week, and every day,<br> +My flock it seemed to melt away.</td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90</td> +</tr> + +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td><span style="font-size: 150%;">X</span></td> +<td>"They dwindled, Sir, sad sight to see!<br> + From ten to five, from five to three,<br> + A lamb, a wether, and a ewe;-.<br> + And then at last from three to two;<br> + And, of my fifty, yesterday<br> + I had but only one:<br> + And here it lies upon my arm,<br> + Alas! and I have none;—<br> + To-day I fetched it from the rock;<br> + It is the last of all my flock." </td> + <td></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="25v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... I have been, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr25v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="25v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Then with his coat he made essay</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr25v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="25v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1832</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... a ewe ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr25v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="25v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>As sweet ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr25v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="25v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Upon the mountain did they feed</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr25v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="25v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Ten ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr25v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="25v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... upon the mountain ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr25v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="25v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>They dwindled one by one away;<br> + For me it was a woeful day. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr25v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="25v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Oft-times I thought to run away;<br> + For me it was a woeful day. <br><br> + + Bent oftentimes to flee from home,<br> + And hide my head where wild beasts roam.</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr25v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section26">The Idiot Boy</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">Alfoxden, 1798. The last stanza, 'The cocks did crow to-whoo, + to-whoo, and the sun did shine so cold,' was the foundation of the + whole. The words were reported to me by my dear friend Thomas Poole; + but I have since heard the same repeated of other idiots. Let me add, + that this long poem was composed in the groves of Alfoxden, almost + extempore; not a word, I believe, being corrected, though one stanza + was omitted. I mention this in gratitude to those happy moments, for, + in truth, I never wrote anything with so much glee.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."—Ed. +</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>'Tis eight o'clock,—a clear March night,<br> +The moon is up,—the sky is blue,<br> +The owlet, in the moonlight air,<br> +Shouts from nobody knows where;<br> +He lengthens out his lonely shout,<br> +Halloo! halloo! a long halloo!<br><br> + +—Why bustle thus about your door,<br> +What means this bustle, Betty Foy?<br> +Why are you in this mighty fret?<br> +And why on horseback have you set<br> +Him whom you love, your Idiot Boy?<br> +<br> +Scarcely a soul is out of bed:<br> +Good Betty, put him down again;<br> +His lips with joy they burr at you;<br> +But, Betty! what has he to do<br> +With stirrup, saddle, or with rein?<br> +<br> +But Betty's bent on her intent;<br> +For her good neighbour, Susan Gale,<br> +Old Susan, she who dwells alone,<br> +Is sick, and makes a piteous moan,<br> +As if her very life would fail.<br><br> + +There's not a house within a mile,<br> +No hand to help them in distress;<br> +Old Susan lies a-bed in pain,<br> +And sorely puzzled are the twain,<br> +For what she ails they cannot guess.<br><br> + +And Betty's husband's at the wood,<br> +Where by the week he doth abide,<br> +A woodman in the distant vale;<br> +There's none to help poor Susan Gale;<br> +What must be done? what will betide?<br><br> + +And Betty from the lane has fetched<br> +Her Pony, that is mild and good;<br> +Whether he be in joy or pain,<br> +Feeding at will along the lane,<br> +Or bringing faggots from the wood.<br><br> + +And he is all in travelling trim,—<br> +And, by the moonlight, Betty Foy<br> +Has on the well-girt saddle set<br> +(The like was never heard of yet)<br> +Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy.<br><br> + +And he must post without delay<br> +Across the bridge and through the dale,<br> +And by the church, and o'er the down,<br> +To bring a Doctor from the town,<br> +Or she will die, old Susan Gale.<br><br> + +There is no need of boot or spur,<br> +There is no need of whip or wand;<br> +For Johnny has his holly-bough,<br> +And with a <i>hurly-burly</i> now<br> +He shakes the green bough in his hand.<br><br> + +And Betty o'er and o'er has told<br> +The Boy, who is her best delight,<br> +Both what to follow, what to shun,<br> +What do, and what to leave undone,<br> +How turn to left, and how to right.<br><br> + +And Betty's most especial charge,<br> +Was, "Johnny! Johnny! mind that you<br> +Come home again, nor stop at all,—<br> +Come home again, whate'er befal,<br> +My Johnny, do, I pray you do."<br><br> + +To this did Johnny answer make,<br> +Both with his head and with his hand,<br> +And proudly shook the bridle too;<br> +And then! his words were not a few,<br> +Which Betty well could understand.<br><br> + +And now that Johnny is just going,<br> +Though Betty's in a mighty flurry,<br> +She gently pats the Pony's side,<br> +On which her Idiot Boy must ride,<br> +And seems no longer in a hurry.<br><br> + +But when the Pony moved his legs,<br> +Oh! then for the poor Idiot Boy!<br> +For joy he cannot hold the bridle,<br> +For joy his head and heels are idle,<br> +He's idle all for very joy.<br><br> + +And while the Pony moves his legs,<br> +In Johnny's left hand you may see<br> +The green bough motionless and dead:<br> +The Moon that shines above his head<br> +Is not more still and mute than he.<br><br> + +His heart it was so full of glee,<br> +That till full fifty yards were gone,<br> +He quite forgot his holly whip,<br> +And all his skill in horsemanship:<br> +Oh! happy, happy, happy John.<br><br> + +And while the Mother, at the door,<br> +Stands fixed, her face with joy o'erflows<br> +Proud of herself, and proud of him,<br> +She sees him in his travelling trim,<br> +How quietly her Johnny goes.<br><br> + +The silence of her Idiot Boy,<br> +What hopes it sends to Betty's heart!<br> +He's at the guide-post—he turns right;<br> +She watches till he's out of sight,<br> +And Betty will not then depart.<br><br> + +Burr, burr—now Johnny's lips they burr.<br> +As loud as any mill, or near it;<br> +Meek as a lamb the Pony moves,<br> +And Johnny makes the noise he loves,<br> +And Betty listens, glad to hear it.<br><br> + +Away she hies to Susan Gale:<br> +Her Messenger's in merry tune;<br> +The owlets hoot, the owlets curr,<br> +And Johnny's lips they burr, burr, burr,<br> +As on he goes beneath the moon.<br><br> + +His steed and he right well agree;<br> +For of this Pony there's a rumour,<br> +That, should he lose his eyes and ears,<br> +And should he live a thousand years,<br> +He never will be out of humour.<br><br> + +But then he is a horse that thinks!<br> +And when he thinks, his pace is slack;<br> +Now, though he knows poor Johnny well,<br> +Yet, for his life, he cannot tell<br> +What he has got upon his back.<br><br> + +So through the moonlight lanes they go,<br> +And far into the moonlight dale,<br> +And by the church, and o'er the down,<br> +To bring a Doctor from the town,<br> +To comfort poor old Susan Gale.<br><br> + +And Betty, now at Susan's side,<br> +Is in the middle of her story,<br> +What speedy help her Boy will bring,<br> +With many a most diverting thing,<br> +Of Johnny's wit, and Johnny's glory.<br><br> + +And Betty, still at Susan's side,<br> +By this time is not quite so flurried:<br> +Demure with porringer and plate<br> +She sits, as if in Susan's fate<br> +Her life and soul were buried.<br><br> + +But Betty, poor good woman! she,<br> +You plainly in her face may read it,<br> +Could lend out of that moment's store<br> +Five years of happiness or more<br> +To any that might need it.<br><br> + +But yet I guess that now and then<br> +With Betty all was not so well;<br> +And to the road she turns her ears,<br> +And thence full many a sound she hears,<br> +Which she to Susan will not tell.<br><br> + +Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;<br> +"As sure as there's a moon in heaven,"<br> +Cries Betty, "he'll be back again;<br> +They'll both be here—'tis almost ten—<br> +Both will be here before eleven."<br><br> + +Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;<br> +The clock gives warning for eleven;<br> +'Tis on the stroke—"He must be near,"<br> +Quoth Betty, "and will soon be here,<br> +As sure as there's a moon in heaven."<br><br> + +The clock is on the stroke of twelve,<br> +And Johnny is not yet in sight:<br> +—The Moon's in heaven, as Betty sees,<br> +But Betty is not quite at ease;<br> +And Susan has a dreadful night.<br><br> + +And Betty, half an hour ago,<br> +On Johnny vile reflections cast:<br> +"A little idle sauntering Thing!"<br> +With other names, an endless string;<br> +But now that time is gone and past.<br><br> + +And Betty's drooping at the heart,<br> +That happy time all past and gone,<br> +"How can it be he is so late?<br> +The Doctor, he has made him wait;<br> +Susan! they'll both be here anon."<br><br> + +And Susan's growing worse and worse,<br> +And Betty's in a sad <i>quandary</i>;<br> +And then there's nobody to say<br> +If she must go, or she must stay!<br> +—She's in a sad <i>quandary</i>.<br><br> + +The clock is on the stroke of one;<br> +But neither Doctor nor his Guide<br> +Appears along the moonlight road;<br> +There's neither horse nor man abroad,<br> +And Betty's still at Susan's side.<br><br> + +And Susan now begins to fear<br> +Of sad mischances not a few,<br> +That Johnny may perhaps be drowned;<br> +Or lost, perhaps, and never found;<br> +Which they must both for ever rue.<br><br> + +She prefaced half a hint of this<br> +With, "God forbid it should be true!"<br> +At the first word that Susan said<br> +Cried Betty, rising from the bed,<br> +"Susan, I'd gladly stay with you.<br><br> + +"I must be gone, I must away:<br> +Consider, Johnny's but half-wise;<br> +Susan, we must take care of him,<br> +If he is hurt in life or limb"—<br> +"Oh God forbid!" poor Susan cries.<br><br> + +"What can I do?" says Betty, going,<br> +"What can I do to ease your pain?<br> +Good Susan tell me, and I'll stay;<br> +I fear you're in a dreadful way,<br> +But I shall soon be back again."<br><br> + +"Nay, Betty, go! good Betty, go!<br> +There's nothing that can ease my pain."<br> +Then off she hies; but with a prayer<br> +That God poor Susan's life would spare,<br> +Till she comes back again.<br><br> + +So, through the moonlight lane she goes,<br> +And far into the moonlight dale;<br> +And how she ran, and how she walked,<br> +And all that to herself she talked,<br> +Would surely be a tedious tale.<br><br> + +In high and low, above, below,<br> +In great and small, in round and square,<br> +In tree and tower was Johnny seen,<br> +In bush and brake, in black and green;<br> +'Twas Johnny, Johnny, every where.<br><br> + +And while she crossed the bridge, there came<br> +A thought with which her heart is sore—<br> +Johnny perhaps his horse forsook,<br> +To hunt the moon within the brook,<br> +And never will be heard of more.<br><br> + +Now is she high upon the down,<br> +Alone amid a prospect wide;<br> +There's neither Johnny nor his Horse<br> +Among the fern or in the gorse;<br> +There's neither Doctor nor his Guide.<br><br> + +"Oh saints! what is become of him?<br> +Perhaps he's climbed into an oak,<br> +Where he will stay till he is dead;<br> +Or, sadly he has been misled,<br> +And joined the wandering gipsy-folk.<br><br> + +"Or him that wicked Pony's carried<br> +To the dark cave, the goblin's hall;<br> +Or in the castle he's pursuing<br> +Among the ghosts his own undoing;<br> +Or playing with the waterfall."<br><br> + +At poor old Susan then she railed,<br> +While to the town she posts away;<br> +"If Susan had not been so ill,<br> +Alas! I should have had him still,<br> +My Johnny, till my dying day."<br><br> + +Poor Betty, in this sad distemper,<br> +The Doctor's self could hardly spare:<br> +Unworthy things she talked, and wild;<br> +Even he, of cattle the most mild,<br> +The Pony had his share.<br><br> + +But now she's fairly in the town,<br> +And to the Doctor's door she hies;<br> +'Tis silence all on every side;<br> +The town so long, the town so wide,<br> +Is silent as the skies.<br><br> + +And now she's at the Doctor's door,<br> +She lifts the knocker, rap, rap, rap;<br> +The Doctor at the casement shows<br> +His glimmering eyes that peep and doze!<br> +And one hand rubs his old night-cap.<br><br> + +"Oh Doctor! Doctor! where's my Johnny?"<br> +"I'm here, what is't you want with me?"<br> +"Oh Sir! you know I'm Betty Foy,<br> +And I have lost my poor dear Boy,<br> +You know him—him you often see;<br><br> + +"He's not so wise as some folks be":<br> +"The devil take his wisdom!" said<br> +The Doctor, looking somewhat grim,<br> +"What, Woman! should I know of him?"<br> +And, grumbling, he went back to bed!<br><br> + +"O woe is me! O woe is me!<br> +Here will I die; here will I die;<br> +I thought to find my lost one here,<br> +But he is neither far nor near,<br> +Oh! what a wretched Mother I!"<br><br> + +She stops, she stands, she looks about;<br> +Which way to turn she cannot tell.<br> +Poor Betty! it would ease her pain<br> +If she had heart to knock again;<br> +—The clock strikes three—a dismal knell!<br><br> + +Then up along the town she hies,<br> +No wonder if her senses fail;<br> +This piteous news so much it shocked her,<br> +She quite forgot to send the Doctor,<br> +To comfort poor old Susan Gale.<br><br> + +And now she's high upon the down,<br> +And she can see a mile of road:<br> +"O cruel! I'm almost threescore;<br> +Such night as this was ne'er before,<br> +There's not a single soul abroad."<br><br> + +She listens, but she cannot hear<br> +The foot of horse, the voice of man;<br> +The streams with softest sound are flowing,<br> +The grass you almost hear it growing,<br> +You hear it now, if e'er you can.<br><br> + +The owlets through the long blue night<br> +Are shouting to each other still:<br> +Fond lovers! yet not quite hob nob,<br> +They lengthen out the tremulous sob,<br> +That echoes far from hill to hill.<br><br> + +Poor Betty now has lost all hope,<br> +Her thoughts are bent on deadly sin,<br> +A green-grown pond she just has past,<br> +And from the brink she hurries fast,<br> +Lest she should drown herself therein.<br><br> + +And now she sits her down and weeps;<br> +Such tears she never shed before;<br> +"Oh dear, dear Pony! my sweet joy!<br> +Oh carry back my Idiot Boy!<br> +And we will ne'er o'erload thee more."<br><br> + +A thought is come into her head:<br> +The Pony he is mild and good,<br> +And we have always used him well;<br> +Perhaps he's gone along the dell,<br> +And carried Johnny to the wood.<br><br> + +Then up she springs as if on wings;<br> +She thinks no more of deadly sin;<br> +If Betty fifty ponds should see,<br> +The last of all her thoughts would be<br> +To drown herself therein.<br><br> + +O Reader! now that I might tell<br> +What Johnny and his Horse are doing!<br> +What they've been doing all this time,<br> +Oh could I put it into rhyme,<br> +A most delightful tale pursuing!<br><br> + +Perhaps, and no unlikely thought!<br> +He with his Pony now doth roam<br> +The cliffs and peaks so high that are,<br> +To lay his hands upon a star,<br> +And in his pocket bring it home.<br><br> + +Perhaps he's turned himself about,<br> +His face unto his horse's tail,<br> +And, still and mute, in wonder lost,<br> +All silent as a horseman-ghost,<br> +He travels slowly down the vale.<br><br> + +And now, perhaps, is hunting sheep,<br> +A fierce and dreadful hunter he;<br> +Yon valley, now so trim and green,<br> +In five months' time, should he be seen,<br> +A desert wilderness will be!<br><br> + +Perhaps, with head and heels on fire,<br> +And like the very soul of evil,<br> +He's galloping away, away,<br> +And so will gallop on for aye,<br> +The bane of all that dread the devil!<br><br> + +I to the Muses have been bound<br> +These fourteen years, by strong indentures:<br> +O gentle Muses! let me tell<br> +But half of what to him befel;<br> +He surely met with strange adventures.<br><br> + +O gentle Muses! is this kind?<br> +Why will ye thus my suit repel?<br> +Why of your further aid bereave me?<br> +And can ye thus unfriended leave me;<br> +Ye Muses! whom I love so well?<br><br> + +Who's yon, that, near the waterfall,<br> +Which thunders down with headlong force<br> +Beneath the moon, yet shining fair,<br> +As careless as if nothing were,<br> +Sits upright on a feeding horse?<br><br> + +Unto his horse—there feeding free,<br> +He seems, I think, the rein to give;<br> +Of moon or stars he takes no heed;<br> +Of such we in romances read:<br> +—'Tis Johnny! Johnny! as I live.<br><br> + +And that's the very Pony, too!<br> +Where is she, where is Betty Foy?<br> +She hardly can sustain her fears;<br> +The roaring waterfall she hears,<br> +And cannot find her Idiot Boy.<br><br> + +Your Pony's worth his weight in gold:<br> +Then calm your terrors, Betty Foy!<br> +She's coming from among the trees,<br> +And now all full in view she sees<br> +Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy.<br><br> + +And Betty sees the Pony too:<br> +Why stand you thus, good Betty Foy?<br> +It is no goblin, 'tis no ghost,<br> +'Tis he whom you so long have lost,<br> +He whom you love, your Idiot Boy.<br><br> + +She looks again—her arms are up—<br> +She screams—she cannot move for joy;<br> +She darts, as with a torrent's force,<br> +She almost has o'erturned the Horse,<br> +And fast she holds her Idiot Boy.<br><br> + +And Johnny burrs, and laughs aloud;<br> +Whether in cunning or in joy<br> +I cannot tell; but while he laughs,<br> +Betty a drunken pleasure quaffs<br> +To hear again her Idiot Boy.<br><br> + +And now she's at the Pony's tail,<br> +And now is at the Pony's head,—<br> +On that side now, and now on this;<br> +And, almost stifled with her bliss,<br> +A few sad tears does Betty shed.<br><br> + +She kisses o'er and o'er again<br> +Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy;<br> +She's happy here, is happy there,<br> +She is uneasy every where;<br> +Her limbs are all alive with joy.<br><br> + +She pats the Pony, where or when<br> +She knows not, happy Betty Foy!<br> +The little Pony glad may be,<br> +But he is milder far than she,<br> +You hardly can perceive his joy.<br><br> + +"Oh! Johnny, never mind the Doctor;<br> +You've done your best, and that is all:"<br> +She took the reins, when this was said,<br> +And gently turned the Pony's head<br> +From the loud waterfall.<br><br> + +By this the stars were almost gone,<br> +The moon was setting on the hill,<br> +So pale you scarcely looked at her:<br> +The little birds began to stir,<br> +Though yet their tongues were still.<br><br> + +The Pony, Betty, and her Boy,<br> +Wind slowly through the woody dale;<br> +And who is she, betimes abroad,<br> +That hobbles up the steep rough road?<br> +Who is it, but old Susan Gale?<br><br> + +Long time lay Susan lost in thought;<br> +And many dreadful fears beset her,<br> +Both for her Messenger and Nurse;<br> +And, as her mind grew worse and worse,<br> +Her body—it grew better.<br><br> + +She turned, she tossed herself in bed,<br> +On all sides doubts and terrors met her;<br> +Point after point did she discuss;<br> +And, while her mind was fighting thus,<br> +Her body still grew better.<br><br> + +"Alas! what is become of them?<br> +These fears can never be endured;<br> +I'll to the wood."—The word scarce said,<br> +Did Susan rise up from her bed,<br> +As if by magic cured.<br><br> + +Away she goes up hill and down,<br> +And to the wood at length is come;<br> +She spies her Friends, she shouts a greeting;<br> +Oh me! it is a merry meeting<br> +As ever was in Christendom.<br><br> + +The owls have hardly sung their last,<br> +While our four travellers homeward wend;<br> +The owls have hooted all night long,<br> +And with the owls began my song,<br> +And with the owls must end.<br><br> + +For while they all were travelling home,<br> +Cried Betty, "Tell us, Johnny, do,<br> +Where all this long night you have been,<br> +What you have heard, what you have seen:<br> +And, Johnny, mind you tell us true."<br><br> + +Now Johnny all night long had heard<br> +The owls in tuneful concert strive;<br> +No doubt too he the moon had seen;<br> +For in the moonlight he had been <br> +From eight o'clock till five.<br><br> + +And thus, to Betty's question, he<br> +Made answer, like a traveller bold,<br> +(His very words I give to you,)<br> +"The cocks did crow to-whoo, to-whoo,<br> +And the sun did shine so cold!"<br> +—Thus answered Johnny in his glory,<br> +And that was all his travel's story.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v1"></a><a href="#26v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v2"></a><a href="#26v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v3"></a><a href="#26v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v4"></a><a href="#26v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v5"></a><a href="#26v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v6"></a><a href="#26v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v7"></a><a href="#26v7"><sup>7</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v8"></a><a href="#26v8"><sup>8</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v9"></a><a href="#26v9"><sup>9</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v10"></a><a href="#26v10"><sup>10</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v11"></a><a href="#26v11"><sup>11</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v12"></a><a href="#26v12"><sup>12</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v13"></a><a href="#26v13"><sup>13</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v14"></a><a href="#26v14"><sup>14</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v15"></a><a href="#26v15"><sup>15</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v16"></a><a href="#26v16"><sup>16</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v17"></a><a href="#26v17"><sup>17</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v18"></a><a href="#26v18"><sup>18</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v19"></a><a href="#26v19"><sup>19</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v20"></a><a href="#26v20"><sup>20</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v21"></a><a href="#26v21"><sup>21</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v22"></a><a href="#26v22"><sup>22</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v23"></a><a href="#26v23"><sup>23</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v24"></a><a href="#26v24"><sup>24</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v25"></a><a href="#26v25"><sup>25</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v26"></a><a href="#26v26"><sup>26</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v27"></a><a href="#26v27"><sup>27</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v28"></a><a href="#26v28"><sup>28</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v29"></a><a href="#26v29"><sup>29</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v30"></a><a href="#26v30"><sup>30</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v31"></a><a href="#26v31"><sup>31</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v32"></a><a href="#26v32"><sup>32</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v33"></a><a href="#26v33"><sup>33</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr26v34"></a><a href="#26v34"><sup>34</sup></a><br> +</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> 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+<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +165<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +175<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +180<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +185<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +190<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +195<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +200<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +205<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +210<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +215<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +220<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +225<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +230<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +235<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +240<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +245<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +250<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +255<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +260<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +265<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +270<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +275<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +280<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +285<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +290<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +295<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +300<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +305<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +310<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +315<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +320<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +325<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +330<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +335<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +340<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +345<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +350<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +355<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +360<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +365<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +370<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +375<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +380<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +385<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +390<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +395<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +400<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +405<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +410<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +415<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +420<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +425<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +430<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +435<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +440<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +445<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +450<br> +<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="26v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>He shouts from ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +Inserted in the editions 1798 to 1820. + + <blockquote> Beneath the moon that shines so bright,<br> + Till she is tired, let Betty Foy<br> + With girt and stirrup fiddle-faddle;<br> + But wherefore set upon a saddle<br> + Him whom she loves, her idiot boy?</blockquote> +<a href="#fr26v2">return</a> <br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>There's scarce a soul that's out of bed;</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +Inserted in the editions 1798 to 1820. + + <blockquote>The world will say 'tis very idle,<br> + Bethink you of the time of night;<br> + There's not a mother, no not one,<br> + But when she hears what you have done,<br> + Oh! Betty she'll be in a fright.</blockquote> +<a href="#fr26v4">return</a> <br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Has up upon the saddle set, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... that's in the dale, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... bough's ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And Betty's standing at the door,<br> + And Betty's face with joy o'erflows, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And Johnny's in a merry tune, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> + +<a name="26v11"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 11:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> What comfort Johnny soon will bring,<br> + <br> + What comfort soon her Boy will bring,</blockquote></td> + <td>1798<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v12"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 12:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And Betty's still at Susan's side:<br> + By this time she's not quite so flurried; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v12">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v13"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 13:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>They'll both be ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v13">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v14"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 14:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> 'Tis on the stroke—"If Johnny's near,"<br> + Quoth Betty, "he will soon be here," </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v14">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v15"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 15:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Appear ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v15">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v16"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 16:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... she begins to fear</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v16">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v17"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 17:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Good Betty<a href="#26i"><sup>i</sup></a> ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v17">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v18"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 18:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>She's past the bridge that's in the dale,<br> + And now the thought torments her sore, <br> + <br> + She's past the bridge far in the dale;<br> + <br> + The bridge is past—far in the dale; </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798<br> + <br> + 1820<br> + <br> + 1827</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v18">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v19"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 19:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... that's in the brook, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v19">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v20"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 20:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And now she's high ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v20">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v21"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 21:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ...would ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v21">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v22"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 22:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> And now she's got into the town,</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v22">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v23"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 23:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... my Johnny here,</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v23">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v24"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 24:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>All like a silent horseman-ghost,<br> + He travels on along the vale. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v24">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v25"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 25:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... he's hunting . . </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v25">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v26"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 26:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1820</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>...that's so trim ....</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v26">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v27"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 27:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>...he'll gallop ....</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v27">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v28"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 28:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1802</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> For sure he met ..... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v28">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v29"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 29:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1798</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>...unfriendly....</blockquote></td> + <td>Only in MS. and in the edition of 1805.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v29">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v30"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 30:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>...that's feeding ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v30">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v31"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 31:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And now she's ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v31">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v32"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 32:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... she's happy there, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v32">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v33"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 33:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Long Susan lay deep lost in thought, </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v33">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="26v34"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 34:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1836</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... she posts ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr26v34">return</a><br> +<br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="26A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> As Wordsworth gives the date of this poem as 1798, the +above line implies that his poetical work began at least in 1784, when +he was fourteen years of age. The note to <i>An Evening Walk</i> dictated to +Miss Fenwick (<a href="#section3">see</a> p. 5) implies the same.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr26A">return</a><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="26i"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote i:</span> </a> This change was made by S. T. C.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#26v17">return</a> +<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section27"></a>The Old Cumberland Beggar<a href="#27A"><span style="font-size: 70%;"><sup>A</sup></span></a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1800.</h4> + +The class of Beggars to which the old man here described +belongs, will probably soon be extinct. It consisted of poor, +and, mostly, old and infirm persons, who confined themselves to +a stated round in their neighbourhood, and had certain fixed +days, on which, at different houses, they regularly received +charity; sometimes in money, but mostly in provisions.-W. W. +1800. + + <blockquote><span style="color: #663300;"> Observed, and with great benefit to my own heart, when I was a child. + <a name="fr27B">Written</a> at Racedown and Alfoxden in my twenty-third year<a href="#27B"><sup>B</sup></a>. The + Political Economists were about that time beginning their war upon + mendicity in all its forms, and by implication, if not directly, on + alms-giving also. This heartless process has been carried as far as it + can go by the <b>Amended</b> Poor Law Bill, tho' the inhumanity that prevails + in this measure is somewhat disguised by the profession that one of + its objects is to throw the poor upon the voluntary donations of their + neighbours; that is, if rightly interpreted, to force them into a + condition between relief in the Union Poor House and alms robbed of + their Christian grace and spirit, as being <i>forced</i> rather from the + benevolent than given by them; while the avaricious and selfish, and + all, in fact, but the humane and charitable, are at liberty to keep + all they possess from their distressed brethren.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">Included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Old Age."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;<br> +And he was seated, by the highway side,<br> +On a low structure of rude masonry<br> +Built at the foot of a huge hill, that they<br> +Who lead their horses down the steep rough road<br> +May thence remount at ease. The aged Man<br> +Had placed his staff across the broad smooth stone<br> +That overlays the pile; and, from a bag<br> +All white with flour, the dole of village dames,<br> +He drew his scraps and fragments, one by one;<br> +And scanned them with a fixed and serious look<br> +Of idle computation. In the sun,<br> +Upon the second step of that small pile,<br> +Surrounded by those wild unpeopled hills,<br> +He sat, and ate his food in solitude:<br> +And ever, scattered from his palsied hand,<br> +That, still attempting to prevent the waste,<br> +Was baffled still, the crumbs in little showers<br> +Fell on the ground; and the small mountain birds,<br> +Not venturing yet to peck their destined meal,<br> +Approached within the length of half his staff.<br><br> + +Him from my childhood have I known; and then<br> +He was so old, he seems not older now;<br> +He travels on, a solitary Man,<br> +So helpless in appearance, that for him<br> +The sauntering Horseman throws not with a slack<br> +And careless hand his alms upon the ground,<br> +But stops,—that he may safely lodge the coin<br> +Within the old Man's hat; nor quits him so,<br> +But still, when he has given his horse the rein,<br> +Watches the aged Beggar with a look<br> +Sidelong, and half-reverted. She who tends<br> +The toll-gate, when in summer at her door<br> +She turns her wheel, if on the road she sees<br> +The aged beggar coming, quits her work,<br> +And lifts the latch for him that he may pass.<br> +The post-boy, when his rattling wheels o'ertake<br> +The aged Beggar in the woody lane,<br> +Shouts to him from behind; and, if thus warned<br> +The old man does not change his course, the boy<br> +Turns with less noisy wheels to the roadside,<br> +And passes gently by, without a curse<br> +Upon his lips, or anger at his heart.<br><br> + +He travels on, a solitary Man;<br> +His age has no companion. On the ground<br> +His eyes are turned, and, as he moves along,<br> +_They_ move along the ground; and, evermore,<br> +Instead of common and habitual sight<br> +Of fields with rural works, of hill and dale,<br> +And the blue sky, one little span of earth<br> +Is all his prospect. Thus, from day to day,<br> +Bow-bent, his eyes for ever on the ground,<br> +He plies his weary journey; seeing still,<br> +And seldom knowing that he sees, some straw,<br> +Some scattered leaf, or marks which, in one track,<br> +The nails of cart or chariot-wheel have left<br> +Impressed on the white road,—in the same line,<br> +At distance still the same. Poor Traveller!<br> +His staff trails with him; scarcely do his feet<br> +Disturb the summer dust; he is so still<br> +In look and motion, that the cottage curs,<br> +Ere he has passed the door, will turn away,<br> +Weary of barking at him. Boys and girls,<br> +The vacant and the busy, maids and youths,<br> +And urchins newly breeched—all pass him by:<br> +Him even the slow-paced waggon leaves behind.<br><br> + +But deem not this Man useless.—Statesmen! ye<br> +Who are so restless in your wisdom, ye<br> +Who have a broom still ready in your hands<br> +To rid the world of nuisances; ye proud,<br> +Heart-swoln, while in your pride ye contemplate<br> +Your talents, power, or wisdom, deem him not<br> +A burthen of the earth! 'Tis nature's law<br> +That none, the meanest of created things,<br> +Of forms created the most vile and brute,<br> +The dullest or most noxious, should exist<br> +Divorced from good—a spirit and pulse of good,<br> +A life and soul, to every mode of being<br> +Inseparably linked. Then be assured<br> +That least of all can aught—that ever owned<br> +The heaven-regarding eye and front sublime<br> +Which man is born to—sink, howe'er depressed,<br> +So low as to be scorned without a sin;<br> +Without offence to God cast out of view;<br> +Like the dry remnant of a garden-flower<br> +Whose seeds are shed, or as an implement<br> +Worn out and worthless. While from door to door<br> +This old Man creeps, the villagers in him<br> +Behold a record which together binds<br> +Past deeds and offices of charity,<br> +Else unremembered, and so keeps alive<br> +The kindly mood in hearts which lapse of years,<br> +And that half-wisdom half-experience gives,<br> +Make slow to feel, and by sure steps resign<br> +To selfishness and cold oblivious cares.<br> +Among the farms and solitary huts,<br> +Hamlets and thinly-scattered villages,<br> +Where'er the aged Beggar takes his rounds,<br> +The mild necessity of use compels<br> +To acts of love; and habit does the work<br> +Of reason; yet prepares that after-joy<br> +Which reason cherishes. And thus the soul,<br> +By that sweet taste of pleasure unpursued<br> +Doth find herself insensibly disposed<br> +To virtue and true goodness.<br> + Some there are,<br> +By their good works exalted, lofty minds<br> +And meditative, authors of delight<br> +And happiness, which to the end of time<br> +Will live, and spread, and kindle: even such minds<br> +In childhood, from this solitary Being,<br> +Or from like wanderer, haply have received<br> +(A thing more precious far than all that books<br> +Or the solicitudes of love can do!)<br> +That first mild touch of sympathy and thought,<br> +In which they found their kindred with a world<br> +Where want and sorrow were. The easy man<br> +Who sits at his own door,—and, like the pear<br> +That overhangs his head from the green wall,<br> +Feeds in the sunshine; the robust and young,<br> +The prosperous and unthinking, they who live<br> +Sheltered, and flourish in a little grove<br> +Of their own kindred;—all behold in him<br> +A silent monitor, which on their minds<br> +Must needs impress a transitory thought<br> +Of self-congratulation, to the heart<br> +Of each recalling his peculiar boons,<br> +His charters and exemptions; and, perchance,<br> +Though he to no one give the fortitude<br> +And circumspection needful to preserve<br> +His present blessings, and to husband up<br> +The respite of the season, he, at least,<br> +And 'tis no vulgar service, makes them felt.<br><br> + +Yet further.—Many, I believe, there are<br> +Who live a life of virtuous decency,<br> +Men who can hear the Decalogue and feel<br> +No self-reproach; who of the moral law<br> +Established in the land where they abide<br> +Are strict observers; and not negligent<br> +In acts of love to those with whom they dwell,<br> +Their kindred, and the children of their blood.<br> +Praise be to such, and to their slumbers peace!<br> +—But of the poor man ask, the abject poor;<br> +Go, and demand of him, if there be here<br> +In this cold abstinence from evil deeds,<br> +And these inevitable charities,<br> +Wherewith to satisfy the human soul?<br> +No—man is dear to man; the poorest poor<br> +Long for some moments in a weary life<br> +When they can know and feel that they have been,<br> +Themselves, the fathers and the dealers-out<br> +Of some small blessings; have been kind to such<br> +As needed kindness, for this single cause,<br> +That we have all of us one human heart.<br> +—Such pleasure is to one kind Being known,<br> +My neighbour, when with punctual care, each week<br> +Duly as Friday comes, though pressed herself<br> +By her own wants, she from her store of meal<br> +Takes one unsparing handful for the scrip<br> +Of this old Mendicant, and, from her door<br> +Returning with exhilarated heart,<br> +Sits by her fire, and builds her hope in heaven.<br><br> + +Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!<br> +And while in that vast solitude to which<br> +The tide of things has borne him, he appears<br> +To breathe and live but for himself alone,<br> +Unblamed, uninjured, let him bear about<br> +The good which the benignant law of Heaven<br> +Has hung around him: and, while life is his,<br> +Still let him prompt the unlettered villagers<br> +To tender offices and pensive thoughts.<br> +—Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!<br> +And, long as he can wander, let him breathe<br> +The freshness of the valleys; let his blood<br> +Struggle with frosty air and winter snows;<br> +And let the chartered wind that sweeps the heath<br> +Beat his grey locks against his withered face.<br> +Reverence the hope whose vital anxiousness<br> +Gives the last human interest to his heart.<br> +May never <b>House</b>, misnamed of <b>Industry</b>,<br> +Make him a captive!—for that pent-up din,<br> +Those life-consuming sounds that clog the air,<br> +Be his the natural silence of old age!<br> +Let him be free of mountain solitudes;<br> +And have around him, whether heard or not,<br> +The pleasant melody of woodland birds.<br> +Few are his pleasures: if his eyes have now<br> +Been doomed so long to settle upon earth<br> +That not without some effort they behold<br> +The countenance of the horizontal sun,<br> +Rising or setting, let the light at least<br> +Find a free entrance to their languid orbs.<br> +And let him, <i>where</i> and <i>when</i> he will, sit down<br> +Beneath the trees, or on a grassy bank<br> +Of highway side, and with the little birds<br> +Share his chance-gathered meal; and, finally,<br> +As in the eye of Nature he has lived,<br> +So in the eye of Nature let him die!</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v1"></a><a href="#27v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v2"></a><a href="#27v2"><sup>2</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v3"></a><a href="#27v3"><sup>3</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v4"></a><a href="#27v4"><sup>4</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v5"></a><a href="#27v5"><sup>5</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v6"></a><a href="#27v6"><sup>6</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v7"></a><a href="#27v7"><sup>7</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v8"></a><a href="#27v8"><sup>8</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr27v9"></a><a href="#27v9"><sup>9</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v10"></a><a href="#27v10"><sup>10</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v11"></a><a href="#27v11"><sup>11</sup></a><br> +<a name="fr27v12"></a><a href="#27v12"><sup>12</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v13"></a><a href="#27v13"><sup>13</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v14"></a><a href="#27v14"><sup>14</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v15"></a><a href="#27v15"><sup>15</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v16"></a><a href="#27v16"><sup>16</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v17"></a><a href="#27v17"><sup>17</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v18"></a><a href="#27v18"><sup>18</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v19"></a><a href="#27v19"><sup>19</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v20"></a><a href="#27v20"><sup>20</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27v21"></a><a href="#27v21"><sup>21</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27C"></a><a href="#27C"><sup>C</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27D"></a><a href="#27D"><sup>D</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr27E"></a><a href="#27E"><sup>E</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +145<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +150<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +155<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +165<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +175<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +180<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +185<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +190<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +195<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="27v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1805</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... eat ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>The sauntering horseman-traveller does not throw<br> + With careless hand ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v3"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 3:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>Towards the aged Beggar turns a look,</blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v3">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> + +<a name="27v4"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 4:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... and, if perchance </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v4">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v5"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 5:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... and, evermore,<br> + Instead of Nature's fair variety,<br> + Her ample scope of hill and dale, of clouds<br> + And the blue sky, the same short span of earth<br> + Is all his prospect. When the little birds<br> + Flit over him, if their quick shadows strike<br> + Across his path, he does not lift his head<br> + Like one whose thoughts have been unsettled. So<br> + Brow-bent, his eyes for ever ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + MS.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v5">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v6"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 6:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>And never ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v6">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v7"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 7:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... his slow footsteps scarce </blockquote></td> + <td>MS.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v7">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v8"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 8:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1800</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... that the miller's dog<br> + Is tired of barking at him. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + MS.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v8">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v9"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 9:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... have ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v9">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v10"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 10:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... and ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v10">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v11"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 11:</span></a> +The lines from "Then be assured" to "worthless" were added +in the edition of 1837.<br> +<a href="#fr27v11">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v12"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 12:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>... While thus he creeps<br> + From door to door, ...</blockquote></td> + <td><br> + 1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v12">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v13"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 13:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1832</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... itself ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v13">return</a> <br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v14"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 14:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... ; minds like these,</blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v14">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v15"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 15:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>This helpless wanderer, have perchance receiv'd, </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v15">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v16"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 16:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> Which ...</blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v16">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v17"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 17:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... and not negligent,<br> + Meanwhile, in any tenderness of heart<br> + Or act of love ... </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v17">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v18"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 18:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... chest ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v18">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v19"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 19:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1827</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... led ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v19">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v20"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 20:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... if his eyes, which now<br> + Have been so long familiar with the earth,<br> + No more behold the horizontal sun <br> + <br> + ... if his eyes have now<br> + Been doomed so long to settle on the earth<br> + That not without some effort they behold<br> + The countenance of the horizontal sun, </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + 1800<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + </td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v20">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27v21"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 21:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1837</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote> ... or by the ... </blockquote></td> + <td>1800</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr27v21">return</a><br> +<br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="27A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> In an early MS. the title of this poem is <i>Description of a +Beggar</i>, and in the editions 1800 to 1820 the title was <i>The Old +Cumberland Beggar, a Description</i>.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#section27">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> Wordsworth went to Racedown in 1795, when he was +twenty-five years of age; and was at Alfoxden in his twenty-eighth +year.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr27B">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> Compare Ovid's <i>Metamorphoses</i> I. 84: + + <blockquote>Os homini sublime dedit, cœlumque videre<br> + Jussit et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus.</blockquote> + +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr27C">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> With this poem compare Frederick William Faber's "Hymn," +which he called <i>The Old Labourer</i>, beginning: + + <blockquote>What end doth he fulfil!<br> + He seems without a will.</blockquote> +Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr27D">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="27E"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote E:</span></a> In January 1801 Charles Lamb thus wrote to Wordsworth of +his <i>Old Cumberland Beggar</i>: + + <blockquote>"It appears to me a fault that the instructions conveyed in it are too + direct, and like a lecture: they don't slide into the mind of the + reader while he is imagining no such matter,"</blockquote> + +At the same time he refers to + + <blockquote>"the delicate and curious feeling in the wish of the Beggar that he + may have about him the melody of birds, although he hears them not."</blockquote> + +(<i>The Letters of Charles Lamb</i>, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p. +163.)—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr27E">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section28">Animal Tranquillity and Decay</a></h2> + +<h4>Composed 1798.—Published 1798.</h4> + +<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">If I recollect right, these verses were an overflowing from <i>The Old + Cumberland Beggar</i>.—I. F.</span></blockquote> + +<span style="color: #555555;">They were published in the first edition of "Lyrical Ballads" (1798), +but <i>The Old Cumberland Beggar</i> was not published till 1800. In an early +MS., however, the two are incorporated.<br> +<br> +In the edition of 1798, the poem was called, <i>Old Man Travelling; Animal +Tranquillity and Decay, a Sketch</i>. In 1800, the title was <i>Animal +Tranquillity and Decay. A Sketch</i>. In 1845, it was <i>Animal Tranquillity +and Decay</i>.<br> +<br> +It was included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Old +Age."—Ed.</span><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>variant</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>The little hedgerow birds,<br> +That peck along the road, regard him not.<br> +He travels on, and in his face, his step,<br> +His gait, is one expression: every limb,<br> +His look and bending figure, all bespeak<br> +A man who does not move with pain, but moves<br> +With thought.—He is insensibly subdued<br> +To settled quiet: he is one by whom<br> +All effort seems forgotten; one to whom<br> +Long patience hath such mild composure given, <br> +That patience now doth seem a thing of which<br> +He hath no need. He is by nature led<br> +To peace so perfect that the young behold<br> +With envy, what the Old Man hardly feels.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr28v1"></a><a href="#28v1"><sup>1</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr28v2"></a><a href="#28v2"><sup>2</sup></a></td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="28v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1805</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>...has...</blockquote></td> + <td>1798</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr28v1">return to variant mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="28v2"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 2:</span></a> +<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1815</td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><blockquote>—I asked him whither he was bound, and what<br> + The object of his journey; he replied<br> + "Sir! I am going many miles to take<br> + A last leave of my son, a mariner,<br> + Who from a sea-fight has been brought to Falmouth,<br> + And there is dying in an hospital." <br> + <br> + ... he replied<br> + That he was going many miles to take<br> + A last leave of his son, a mariner,<br> + Who from a sea-fight had been brought to Falmouth,<br> + And there was dying<a href="#28i"><sup>i</sup></a> in an hospital. </blockquote></td> + <td><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1798<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + 1800 to 1805</td> +</tr> +</table> +<a href="#fr28v2">return</a><br> +<br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="28i"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote i:</span> </a> The edition of 1800 has "lying," evidently a +misprint.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#28v2">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section29">Appendix I</a></h2> +<br> +The following is the full text of the original edition of <i>Descriptive +Sketches</i>, first published in 1793:<br> +<br> +<br> + + +<div align="center"><b>Descriptive Sketches<br> +In Verse.<br> +Taken During A<br> +Pedestrian Tour<br> +In The<br> +Italian, Grison, Swiss, And Savoyard<br> +Alps. By <br> +W. Wordsworth, B.A. <br> +Of St. John's, Cambridge.<br><br> + +"Loca Pastorum Deserta Atque Otia Dia."<br> +<i>Lucret.</i><br><br> + +"Castella In Tumulis —<br> +Et Longe Saltus Lateque Vacantes."<br> +<i>Virgil.</i> <br><br> + +London:<br> +Printed For J. Johnson, St. Paul's Church-yard.<br> +1793.</b></div><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="center"><br> +<br> +<b>To the Rev. Robert Jones, Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge.</b><br> +<br> +Dear sir, However desirous I might have been of giving you proofs of the +high place you hold in my esteem, I should have been cautious of +wounding your delicacy by thus publicly addressing you, had not the +circumstance of my having accompanied you amongst the Alps, seemed to +give this dedication a propriety sufficient to do away any scruples +which your modesty might otherwise have suggested.<br> +<br> +In inscribing this little work to you I consult my heart. You know well +how great is the difference between two companions lolling in a post +chaise, and two travellers plodding slowly along the road, side by side, +each with his little knap-sack of necessaries upon his shoulders. How +much more of heart between the two latter!<br> +<br> +I am happy in being conscious I shall have one reader who will approach +the conclusion of these few pages with regret. You they must certainly +interest, in reminding you of moments to which you can hardly look back +without a pleasure not the less dear from a shade of melancholy. You +will meet with few images without recollecting the spot where we +observed them together, consequently, whatever is feeble in my design, +or spiritless in my colouring, will be amply supplied by your own +memory.<br> +<br> +With still greater propriety I might have inscribed to you a description +of some of the features of your native mountains, through which we have +wandered together, in the same manner, with so much pleasure. But the +sea-sunsets which give such splendour to the vale of Clwyd, Snowdon, the +chair of Idris, the quiet village of Bethkelert, Menai and her druids, +the Alpine steeps of the Conway, and the still more interesting windings +of the wizard stream of the Dee remain yet untouched. Apprehensive that +my pencil may never be exercised on these subjects, I cannot let slip +this opportunity of thus publicly assuring you with how much affection +and esteem,<br> +<br> +I am Dear Sir,<br> +<br> +Your most obedient very humble Servant<br> +<br> +<b> +W. Wordsworth.</b><br><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<b>Argument</b><br> +<br> +'Happiness (if she had been to be found on Earth) amongst the Charms of +Nature—Pleasures of the pedestrian Traveller—Author crosses France to +the Alps—Present state of the Grande Chartreuse—Lake of Como—Time, +Sunset—Same Scene, Twilight—Same Scene, Morning, it's Voluptuous +Character; Old Man and Forest Cottage Music—River Tusa—Via Mala and +Grison Gypsey. Valley of Sckellenen-thal—Lake of Uri, Stormy +Sunset—Chapel of William Tell—force of Local Emotion—Chamois +Chaser—View of the higher Alps—Manner of Life of a Swiss Mountaineer +interspersed with views of the higher Alps—Golden Age of the Alps—Life +and Views continued—Ranz des Vaches famous Swiss Air—Abbey of +Einsiedlen and it's Pilgrims—Valley of Chamouny—Mont Blanc—Slavery of +Savoy—Influence of Liberty on Cottage Happiness—France—Wish for the +extirpation of Slavery—Conclusion.'<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="fr29A"></a><h4>Descriptive Sketches<a href="#29A"><span style="font-size: 70%;"><sup>A</sup></span></a></h4><br> + +<table summary="walk" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td><i>text</i></td> + <td><i>footnote</i></td> + <td><i>line number</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>Were there, below, a spot of holy ground,<br> +By Pain and her sad family unfound,<br> +Sure, Nature's <b>God</b> that spot to man had giv'n,<br> +Where murmuring rivers join the song of ev'n;<br> +Where falls the purple morning far and wide<br> +In flakes of light upon the mountain-side;<br> +Where summer Suns in ocean sink to rest,<br> +Or moonlight Upland lifts her hoary breast;<br> +Where Silence, on her night of wing, o'er-broods<br> +Unfathom'd dells and undiscover'd woods;<br> +Where rocks and groves the power of waters shakes<br> +In cataracts, or sleeps in quiet lakes.<br><br> + +But doubly pitying Nature loves to show'r<br> +Soft on his wounded heart her healing pow'r,<br> +Who plods o'er hills and vales his road forlorn,<br> +Wooing her varying charms from eve to morn.<br> +No sad vacuities his heart annoy,<br> +Blows not a Zephyr but it whispers joy;<br> +For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale;<br> +He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale;<br> +For him sod-seats the cottage-door adorn,<br> +And peeps the far-off spire, his evening bourn!<br> +Dear is the forest frowning o'er his head,<br> +And dear the green-sward to his velvet tread;<br> +Moves there a cloud o'er mid-day's flaming eye?<br> +Upward he looks—and calls it luxury;<br> +Kind Nature's charities his steps attend,<br> +In every babbling brook he finds a friend,<br> +While chast'ning thoughts of sweetest use, bestow'd<br> +By Wisdom, moralize his pensive road.<br> +Host of his welcome inn, the noon-tide bow'r,<br> +To his spare meal he calls the passing poor;<br> +He views the Sun uprear his golden fire,<br> +Or sink, with heart alive like Memnon's lyre;<br> +Blesses the Moon that comes with kindest ray<br> +To light him shaken by his viewless way.<br> +With bashful fear no cottage children steal<br> +From him, a brother at the cottage meal,<br> +His humble looks no shy restraint impart,<br> +Around him plays at will the virgin heart.<br> +While unsuspended wheels the village dance,<br> +The maidens eye him with inquiring glance,<br> +Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing Care<br> +Or desperate Love could lead a wanderer there.<br><br> + +Me, lur'd by hope her sorrows to remove,<br> +A heart, that could not much itself approve,<br> +O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led,<br> +Her road elms rustling thin above my head,<br> +Or through her truant pathway's native charms,<br> +By secret villages and lonely farms,<br> +To where the Alps, ascending white in air,<br> +Toy with the Sun, and glitter from afar.<br><br> + +Ev'n now I sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom<br> +Weeping beneath his chill of mountain gloom.<br> +Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe<br> +Tam'd "sober Reason" till she crouch'd in fear?<br> +That breath'd a death-like peace these woods around<br> +Broke only by th' unvaried torrent's sound,<br> +Or prayer-bell by the dull cicada drown'd.<br> +The cloister startles at the gleam of arms,<br> +And Blasphemy the shuddering fane alarms;<br> +Nod the cloud-piercing pines their troubl'd heads,<br> +Spires, rocks, and lawns, a browner night o'erspreads.<br> +Strong terror checks the female peasant's sighs,<br> +And start th' astonish'd shades at female eyes.<br> +The thundering tube the aged angler hears,<br> +And swells the groaning torrent with his tears.<br> +From Bruno's forest screams the frighted jay,<br> +And slow th' insulted eagle wheels away.<br> +The cross with hideous laughter Demons mock,<br> +By angels planted on the aëreal rock.<br> +The "parting Genius" sighs with hollow breath<br> +Along the mystic streams of Life and Death.<br> +Swelling the outcry dull, that long resounds<br> +Portentous, thro' her old woods' trackless bounds,<br> +Deepening her echoing torrents' awful peal<br> +And bidding paler shades her form conceal,<br> +Vallombre, mid her falling fanes, deplores,<br> +For ever broke, the sabbath of her bow'rs.<br><br> + +More pleas'd, my foot the hidden margin roves<br> +Of Como bosom'd deep in chesnut groves.<br> +No meadows thrown between, the giddy steeps<br> +Tower, bare or sylvan, from the narrow deeps.<br> +To towns, whose shades of no rude sound complain,<br> +To ringing team unknown and grating wain,<br> +To flat-roof'd towns, that touch the water's bound,<br> +Or lurk in woody sunless glens profound,<br> +Or from the bending rocks obtrusive cling,<br> +And o'er the whiten'd wave their shadows fling;<br> +Wild round the steeps the little pathway twines,<br> +And Silence loves it's purple roof of vines.<br> +The viewless lingerer hence, at evening, sees<br> +From rock-hewn steps the sail between the trees;<br> +Or marks, mid opening cliffs, fair dark-ey'd maids<br> +Tend the small harvest of their garden glades,<br> +Or, led by distant warbling notes, surveys,<br> +With hollow ringing ears and darkening gaze,<br> +Binding the charmed soul in powerless trance,<br> +Lip-dewing Song and ringlet-tossing Dance,<br> +Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume<br> +The bosom'd cabin's lyre-enliven'd gloom;<br> +Or stops the solemn mountain-shades to view<br> +Stretch, o'er their pictur'd mirror, broad and blue,<br> +Tracking the yellow sun from steep to steep,<br> +As up th' opposing hills, with tortoise foot, they creep.<br> +Here half a village shines, in gold array'd,<br> +Bright as the moon, half hides itself in shade.<br> +From the dark sylvan roofs the restless spire<br> +Inconstant glancing, mounts like springing fire.<br> +There, all unshaded, blazing forests throw no<br> +Rich golden verdure on the waves below.<br> +Slow glides the sail along th' illumin'd shore,<br> +And steals into the shade the lazy oar.<br> +Soft bosoms breathe around contagious sighs,<br> +And amourous music on the water dies.<br> +Heedless how Pliny, musing here, survey'd<br> +Old Roman boats and figures thro' the shade,<br> +Pale Passion, overpower'd, retires and woos<br> +The thicket, where th' unlisten'd stock-dove coos.<br><br> + +How bless'd, delicious Scene! the eye that greets<br> +Thy open beauties, or thy lone retreats;<br> +Th' unwearied sweep of wood thy cliffs that scales,<br> +The never-ending waters of thy vales;<br> +The cots, those dim religious groves enbow'r,<br> +Or, under rocks that from the water tow'r<br> +Insinuated, sprinkling all the shore,<br> +Each with his household boat beside the door,<br> +Whose flaccid sails in forms fantastic droop,<br> +Bright'ning the gloom where thick the forests stoop;<br> +—Thy torrents shooting from the clear-blue sky,<br> +Thy towns, like swallows' nests that cleave on high;<br> +That glimmer hoar in eve's last light, descry'd<br> +Dim from the twilight water's shaggy side,<br> +Whence lutes and voices down th' enchanted woods<br> +Steal, and compose the oar-forgotten floods,<br> +While Evening's solemn bird melodious weeps,<br> +Heard, by star-spotted bays, beneath the steeps;<br> +—Thy lake, mid smoking woods, that blue and grey<br> +Gleams, streak'd or dappled, hid from morning's ray<br> +Slow-travelling down the western hills, to fold<br> +It's green-ting'd margin in a blaze of gold;<br> +From thickly-glittering spires the matin-bell<br> +Calling the woodman from his desert cell,<br> +A summons to the sound of oars, that pass,<br> +Spotting the steaming deeps, to early mass;<br> +Slow swells the service o'er the water born,<br> +While fill each pause the ringing woods of morn.<br><br> + +Farewel! those forms that, in thy noon-tide shade,<br> +Rest, near their little plots of wheaten glade;<br> +Those stedfast eyes, that beating breasts inspire<br> +To throw the "sultry ray" of young Desire;<br> +Those lips, whose tides of fragrance come, and go,<br> +Accordant to the cheek's unquiet glow;<br> +Those shadowy breasts in love's soft light array'd,<br> +And rising, by the moon of passion sway'd.<br><br> + +—Thy fragrant gales and lute-resounding streams,<br> +Breathe o'er the failing soul voluptuous dreams;<br> +While Slavery, forcing the sunk mind to dwell<br> +On joys that might disgrace the captive's cell,<br> +Her shameless timbrel shakes along thy marge,<br> +And winds between thine isles the vocal barge.<br><br> + +Yet, arts are thine that rock th' unsleeping heart,<br> +And smiles to Solitude and Want impart.<br> +I lov'd, mid thy most desert woods astray,<br> +With pensive step to measure my slow way,<br> +By lonely, silent cottage-doors to roam,<br> +The far-off peasant's day-deserted home;<br> +Once did I pierce to where a cabin stood,<br> +The red-breast peace had bury'd it in wood,<br> +There, by the door a hoary-headed sire<br> +Touch'd with his wither'd hand an aged lyre;<br> +Beneath an old-grey oak as violets lie,<br> +Stretch'd at his feet with stedfast, upward eye,<br> +His children's children join'd the holy sound,<br> +A hermit—with his family around.<br><br> + +Hence shall we seek where fair Locarno smiles<br> +Embower'd in walnut slopes and citron isles,<br> +Or charms that smile on Tusa's evening stream,<br> +While mid dim towers and woods her waters gleam;<br> +From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire<br> +The dull-red steeps, and darkening still, aspire,<br> +To where afar rich orange lustres glow<br> +Round undistinguish'd clouds, and rocks, and snow;<br> +Or, led where Viamala's chasms confine<br> +Th' indignant waters of the infant Rhine,<br> +Bend o'er th' abyss?—the else impervious gloom<br> +His burning eyes with fearful light illume.<br> +The Grison gypsey here her tent has plac'd,<br> +Sole human tenant of the piny waste;<br> +Her tawny skin, dark eyes, and glossy locks,<br> +Bend o'er the smoke that curls beneath the rocks.<br> +<br> +—The mind condemn'd, without reprieve, to go<br> +O'er life's long deserts with it's charge of woe,<br> +With sad congratulation joins the train,<br> +Where beasts and men together o'er the plain<br> +Move on,—a mighty caravan of pain;<br> +Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings,<br> +Freshening the waste of sand with shades and springs.<br><br> + +—She solitary through the desert drear<br> +Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear.<br><br> + +A giant moan along the forest swells<br> +Protracted, and the twilight storm foretells,<br> +And, ruining from the cliffs their deafening load<br> +Tumbles, the wildering Thunder slips abroad;<br> +On the high summits Darkness comes and goes,<br> +Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows;<br> +The torrent, travers'd by the lustre broad,<br> +Starts like a horse beside the flashing road;<br> +In the roof'd bridge, at that despairing hour,<br> +She seeks a shelter from the battering show'r.<br> +—Fierce comes the river down; the crashing wood<br> +Gives way, and half it's pines torment the flood;<br> +Fearful, beneath, the Water-spirits call,<br> +And the bridge vibrates, tottering to its fall.<br><br> + +—Heavy, and dull, and cloudy is the night,<br> +No star supplies the comfort of it's light,<br> +Glimmer the dim-lit Alps, dilated, round,<br> +And one sole light shifts in the vale profound;<br> +While, opposite, the waning moon hangs still,<br> +And red, above her melancholy hill.<br> +By the deep quiet gloom appall'd, she sighs,<br> +Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes.<br> +—Breaking th' ascending roar of desert floods,<br> +And insect buzz, that stuns the sultry woods,<br> +She hears, upon the mountain forest's brow,<br> +The death-dog, howling loud and long, below;<br> +On viewless fingers counts the valley-clock,<br> +Followed by drowsy crow of midnight cock.<br> +—Bursts from the troubl'd Larch's giant boughs<br> +The pie, and chattering breaks the night's repose.<br> +Low barks the fox; by Havoc rouz'd the bear,<br> +Quits, growling, the white bones that strew his lair;<br> +The dry leaves stir as with the serpent's walk,<br> +And, far beneath, Banditti voices talk;<br> +Behind her hill the Moon, all crimson, rides,<br> +And his red eyes the slinking Water hides;<br> +Then all is hush'd; the bushes rustle near,<br> +And with strange tinglings sings her fainting ear.<br> +—Vex'd by the darkness, from the piny gulf<br> +Ascending, nearer howls the famish'd wolf,<br> +While thro' the stillness scatters wild dismay,<br> +Her babe's small cry, that leads him to his prey.<br><br> + +Now, passing Urseren's open vale serene,<br> +Her quiet streams, and hills of downy green,<br> +Plunge with the Russ embrown'd by Terror's breath,<br> +Where danger roofs the narrow walks of death;<br> +By floods, that, thundering from their dizzy height,<br> +Swell more gigantic on the stedfast sight;<br> +Black drizzling craggs, that beaten by the din,<br> +Vibrate, as if a voice complain'd within; <br> +Bare steeps, where Desolation stalks, afraid,<br> +Unstedfast, by a blasted yew upstay'd;<br> +By cells whose image, trembling as he prays,<br> +Awe-struck, the kneeling peasant scarce surveys;<br> +Loose-hanging rocks the Day's bless'd eye that hide,<br> +And crosses rear'd to Death on every side,<br> +Which with cold kiss Devotion planted near,<br> +And, bending, water'd with the human tear,<br> +Soon fading "silent" from her upward eye,<br> +Unmov'd with each rude form of Danger nigh,<br> +Fix'd on the anchor left by him who saves<br> +Alike in whelming snows and roaring waves.<br><br> + +On as we move, a softer prospect opes,<br> +Calm huts, and lawns between, and sylvan slopes.<br> +While mists, suspended on th' expiring gale,<br> +Moveless o'er-hang the deep secluded vale,<br> +The beams of evening, slipping soft between,<br> +Light up of tranquil joy a sober scene;<br> +Winding it's dark-green wood and emerald glade,<br> +The still vale lengthens underneath the shade;<br> +While in soft gloom the scattering bowers recede,<br> +Green dewy lights adorn the freshen'd mead,<br> +Where solitary forms illumin'd stray<br> +Turning with quiet touch the valley's hay,<br> +On the low brown wood-huts delighted sleep<br> +Along the brighten'd gloom reposing deep.<br> +While pastoral pipes and streams the landscape lull,<br> +And bells of passing mules that tinkle dull,<br> +In solemn shapes before th' admiring eye<br> +Dilated hang the misty pines on high,<br> +Huge convent domes with pinnacles and tow'rs,<br> +And antique castles seen tho' drizzling show'rs.<br><br> + +From such romantic dreams my sould awake,<br> +Lo! Fear looks silent down on Uri's lake,<br> +By whose unpathway'd margin still and dread<br> +Was never heard the plodding peasant's tread.<br> +Tower like a wall the naked rocks, or reach<br> +Far o'er the secret water dark with beech,<br> +More high, to where creation seems to end,<br> +Shade above shade the desert pines ascend,<br> +And still, below, where mid the savage scene <br> +Peeps out a little speck of smilgin green,<br> +There with his infants man undaunted creeps<br> +And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps.<br> +A garden-plot the desert air perfumes,<br> +Mid the dark pines a little orchard blooms,<br> +A zig-zag path from the domestic skiff<br> +Threading the painful cragg surmounts the cliff.<br> +—Before those hermit doors, that never know<br> +The face of traveller passing to and fro,<br> +No peasant leans upon his pole, to tell<br> +For whom at morning toll'd the funeral bell,<br> +Their watch-dog ne'er his angry bark forgoes,<br> +Touch'd by the beggar's moan of human woes,<br> +The grass seat beneath their casement shade<br> +The pilgrim's wistful eye hath never stay'd.<br> +—There, did the iron Genius not disdain<br> +The gentle Power that haunts the myrtle plain,<br> +There might the love-sick maiden sit, and chide<br> +Th' insuperable rocks and severing tide,<br> +There watch at eve her lover's sun-gilt sail<br> +Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale,<br> +There list at midnight till is heard no more,<br> +Below, the echo of his parting oar,<br> +There hang in fear, when growls the frozen stream,<br> +To guide his dangerous tread the taper's gleam.<br><br> + +Mid stormy vapours ever driving by,<br> +Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry,<br> +Where hardly giv'n the hopeless waste to chear,<br> +Deny'd the bread of life the foodful ear,<br> +Dwindles the pear on autumn's latest spray,<br> +And apple sickens pale in summer's ray,<br> +Ev'n here Content has fix'd her smiling reign<br> +With Independance child of high Disdain.<br> +Exulting mid the winter of the skies,<br> +Shy as the jealous chamois, Freedom flies,<br> +And often grasps her sword, and often eyes,<br> +Her crest a bough of Winter's bleakest pine,<br> +Strange "weeds" and alpine plants her helm entwine,<br> +And wildly-pausing oft she hangs aghast,<br> +While thrills the "Spartan fife" between the blast.<br> + <br> +'Tis storm; and hid in mist from hour to hour<br> +All day the floods a deeper murmur pour,<br> +And mournful sounds, as of a Spirit lost,<br> +Pipe wild along the hollow-blustering coast,<br> +'Till the Sun walking on his western field<br> +Shakes from behind the clouds his flashing shield.<br> +Triumphant on the bosom of the storm,<br> +Glances the fire-clad eagle's wheeling form;<br> +Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine<br> +The wood-crown'd cliffs that o'er the lake recline;<br> +Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold,<br> +At once to pillars turn'd that flame with gold;<br> +Behind his sail the peasant strives to shun<br> +The west that burns like one dilated sun,<br> +Where in a mighty crucible expire<br> +The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire.<br><br> + +But lo! the boatman, over-aw'd, before<br> +The pictur'd fane of Tell suspends his oar;<br> +Confused the Marathonian tale appears,<br> +While burn in his full eyes the glorious tears.<br> +And who but feels a power of strong controul,<br> +Felt only there, oppress his labouring soul,<br> +Who walks, where honour'd men of ancient days<br> +Have wrought with god-like arm the deeds of praise?<br> +Say, who, by thinking on Canadian hills,<br> +Or wild Aosta lulled by Alpine rills,<br> +On Zutphen's plain; or where with soften'd gaze<br> +The old grey stones the plaided chief surveys,<br> +Can guess the high resolve, the cherish'd pain<br> +Of him whom passion rivets to the plain,<br> +Where breath'd the gale that caught Wolfe's happiest sigh,<br> +And the last sun-beam fell on Bayard's eye,<br> +Where bleeding Sydney from the cup retir'd,<br> +And glad Dundee in "faint huzzas" expir'd.<br> + <br> +But now with other soul I stand alone<br> +Sublime upon this far-surveying cone,<br> +And watch from pike to pike amid the sky<br> +Small as a bird the chamois-chaser fly.<br> +'Tis his with fearless step at large to roam<br> +Thro' wastes, of Spirits wing'd the solemn home,<br> +Thro' vacant worlds where Nature never gave<br> +A brook to murmur or a bough to wave,<br> +Which unsubstantial Phantoms sacred keep;<br> +Thro' worlds where Life and Sound, and Motion sleep,<br> +Where Silence still her death-like reign extends,<br> +Save when the startling cliff unfrequent rends:<br> +In the deep snow the mighty ruin drown'd,<br> +Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound;<br> +—To mark a planet's pomp and steady light<br> +In the least star of scarce-appearing night,<br> +And neighbouring moon, that coasts the vast profound,<br> +Wheel pale and silent her diminish'd round,<br> +While far and wide the icy summits blaze<br> +Rejoicing in the glory of her rays;<br> +The star of noon that glitters small and bright,<br> +Shorn of his beams, insufferably white,<br> +And flying fleet behind his orb to view<br> +Th' interminable sea of sable blue.<br> +—Of cloudless suns no more ye frost-built spires<br> +Refract in rainbow hues the restless fires!<br> +Ye dewy mists the arid rocks o'er-spread<br> +Whose slippery face derides his deathful tread!<br><br> + +—To wet the peak's impracticable sides<br> +He opens of his feet the sanguine tides, <br> +Weak and more weak the issuing current eyes<br> +Lapp'd by the panting tongue of thirsty skies.<br> +—At once bewildering mists around him close,<br> +And cold and hunger are his least of woes;<br> +The Demon of the snow with angry roar <br> +Descending, shuts for aye his prison door.<br> +Craz'd by the strength of hope at morn he eyes<br> +As sent from heav'n the raven of the skies,<br> +Then with despair's whole weight his spirits sink,<br> +No bread to feed him, and the snow his drink, <br> +While ere his eyes can close upon the day,<br> +The eagle of the Alps o'ershades his prey.<br> +—Meanwhile his wife and child with cruel hope<br> +All night the door at every moment ope;<br> +Haply that child in fearful doubt may gaze,<br> +Passing his father's bones in future days,<br> +Start at the reliques of that very thigh,<br> +On which so oft he prattled when a boy.<br> + <br> +Hence shall we turn where, heard with fear afar,<br> +Thunders thro' echoing pines the headlong Aar? <br> +Or rather stay to taste the mild delights<br> +Of pensive Underwalden's pastoral heights?<br> + <br> +—Is there who mid these awful wilds has seen<br> +The native Genii walk the mountain green?<br> +Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal, <br> +Soft music from th' aëreal summit steal?<br> +While o'er the desert, answering every close,<br> +Rich steam of sweetest perfume comes and goes.<br> +—And sure there is a secret Power that reigns<br> +Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes, <br> +Nought but the herds that pasturing upward creep,<br> +Hung dim-discover'd from the dangerous steep,<br> +Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high<br> +Suspended, mid the quiet of the sky.<br><br> + +How still! no irreligious sound or sight<br> +Rouzes the soul from her severe delight.<br> +An idle voice the sabbath region fills<br> +Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills,<br> +Broke only by the melancholy sound<br> +Of drowsy bells for ever tinkling round;<br> +Faint wail of eagle melting into blue<br> +Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods steady sugh;<br> +The solitary heifer's deepen'd low;<br> +Or rumbling heard remote of falling snow.<br> +Save that, the stranger seen below, the boy<br> +Shouts from the echoing hills with savage joy.<br><br> + +When warm from myrtle bays and tranquil seas,<br> +Comes on, to whisper hope, the vernal breeze,<br> +When hums the mountain bee in May's glad ear,<br> +And emerald isles to spot the heights appear,<br> +When shouts and lowing herds the valley fill,<br> +And louder torrents stun the noon-tide hill,<br> +When fragrant scents beneath th' enchanted tread<br> +Spring up, his little all around him spread,<br> +The pastoral Swiss begins the cliffs to scale<br> +To silence leaving the deserted vale,<br> +Up the green mountain tracking Summer's feet,<br> +Each twilight earlier call'd the Sun to meet,<br> +With earlier smile the ray of morn to view<br> +Fall on his shifting hut that gleams mid smoking dew;<br> +Bless'd with his herds, as in the patriarch's age,<br> +The summer long to feed from stage to stage;<br> +O'er azure pikes serene and still, they go,<br> +And hear the rattling thunder far below;<br> +Or lost at eve in sudden mist the day<br> +Attend, or dare with minute-steps their way;<br> +Hang from the rocks that tremble o'er the steep,<br> +And tempt the icy valley yawning deep,<br> +O'er-walk the chasmy torrent's foam-lit bed,<br> +Rock'd on the dizzy larch's narrow tread,<br> +Whence Danger leans, and pointing ghastly, joys<br> +To mock the mind with "desperation's toys";<br> +Or steal beneath loose mountains, half deterr'd,<br> +That sigh and shudder to the lowing herd.<br> +—I see him, up the midway cliff he creeps <br> +To where a scanty knot of verdure peeps,<br> +Thence down the steep a pile of grass he throws<br> +The fodder of his herds in winter snows.<br> +Far different life to what tradition hoar<br> +Transmits of days more bless'd in times of yore.<br> +Then Summer lengthen'd out his season bland,<br> +And with rock-honey flow'd the happy land.<br> +Continual fountains welling chear'd the waste,<br> +And plants were wholesome, now of deadly taste.<br> +Nor Winter yet his frozen stores had pil'd <br> +Usurping where the fairest herbage smil'd;<br> +Nor Hunger forc'd the herds from pastures bare<br> +For scanty food the treacherous cliffs to dare.<br> +Then the milk-thistle bad those herds demand<br> +Three times a day the pail and welcome hand. <br> +But human vices have provok'd the rod<br> +Of angry Nature to avenge her God.<br> +Thus does the father to his sons relate,<br> +On the lone mountain top, their chang'd estate.<br> +Still, Nature, ever just, to him imparts <br> +Joys only given to uncorrupted hearts.<br> +—'Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows,<br> +More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose.<br> +Far stretch'd beneath the many-tinted hills<br> +A mighty waste of mist the valley fills, <br> +A solemn sea! whose vales and mountains round<br> +Stand motionless, to awful silence bound.<br> +A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide<br> +And bottomless, divides the midway tide.<br> +Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear <br> +The pines that near the coast their summits rear;<br> +Of cabins, woods, and lawns a pleasant shore<br> +Bounds calm and clear the chaos still and hoar;<br> +Loud thro' that midway gulf ascending, sound<br> +Unnumber'd streams with hollow roar profound.<br> +Mounts thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds,<br> +And talking voices, and the low of herds,<br> +The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell,<br> +And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell.<br> +Think not, suspended from the cliff on high<br> +He looks below with undelighted eye.<br> +—No vulgar joy is his, at even tide<br> +Stretch'd on the scented mountain's purple side.<br> +For as the pleasures of his simple day<br> +Beyond his native valley hardly stray,<br> +Nought round it's darling precincts can he find<br> +But brings some past enjoyment to his mind,<br> +While Hope that ceaseless leans on Pleasure's urn<br> +Binds her wild wreathes, and whispers his return.<br><br> + +Once Man entirely free, alone and wild,<br> +Was bless'd as free—for he was Nature's child.<br> +He, all superior but his God disdain'd,<br> +Walk'd none restraining, and by none restrain'd,<br> +Confess'd no law but what his reason taught,<br> +Did all he wish'd, and wish'd but what he ought.<br> +As Man in his primaeval dower array'd<br> +The image of his glorious sire display'd,<br> +Ev'n so, by vestal Nature guarded, here<br> +The traces of primaeval Man appear.<br> +The native dignity no forms debase,<br> +The eye sublime, and surly lion-grace.<br> +The slave of none, of beasts alone the lord,<br> +He marches with his flute, his book, and sword,<br> +Well taught by that to feel his rights, prepar'd<br> +With this "the blessings he enjoys to guard."<br> + <br> +And as on glorious ground he draws his breath,<br> +Where Freedom oft, with Victory and Death,<br> +Hath seen in grim array amid their Storms<br> +Mix'd with auxiliar Rocks, three hundred Forms;<br> +While twice ten thousand corselets at the view<br> +Dropp'd loud at once, Oppression shriek'd, and flew.<br> +Oft as those sainted Rocks before him spread,<br> +An unknown power connects him with the dead.<br> +For images of other worlds are there,<br> +Awful the light, and holy is the air.<br> +Uncertain thro' his fierce uncultur'd soul<br> +Like lighted tempests troubled transports roll;<br> +To viewless realms his Spirit towers amain,<br> +Beyond the senses and their little reign.<br> + <br> +And oft, when pass'd that solemn vision by,<br> +He holds with God himself communion high,<br> +When the dread peal of swelling torrents fills<br> +The sky-roof'd temple of th' eternal hills,<br> +And savage Nature humbly joins the rite,<br> +While flash her upward eyes severe delight.<br> +Or gazing from the mountain's silent brow,<br> +Bright stars of ice and azure worlds of snow,<br> +Where needle peaks of granite shooting bare<br> +Tremble in ever-varying tints of air,<br> +Great joy by horror tam'd dilates his heart,<br> +And the near heav'ns their own delights impart.<br> +—When the Sun bids the gorgeous scene farewell,<br> +Alps overlooking Alps their state upswell;<br> +Huge Pikes of Darkness nam'd, of Fear and Storms<br> +Lift, all serene, their still, illumin'd forms,<br> +In sea-like reach of prospect round him spread,<br> +Ting'd like an angel's smile all rosy red.<br> + <br> +When downward to his winter hut he goes,<br> +Dear and more dear the lessening circle grows,<br> +That hut which from the hills his eyes employs<br> +So oft, the central point of all his joys.<br> +And as a swift by tender cares oppress'd<br> +Peeps often ere she dart into her nest,<br> +So to th' untrodden floor, where round him looks<br> +His father helpless as the babe he rocks,<br> +Oft he descends to nurse the brother pair,<br> +Till storm and driving ice blockade him there;<br> +There hears, protected by the woods behind,<br> +Secure, the chiding of the baffled wind,<br> +Hears Winter, calling all his Terrors round,<br> +Rush down the living rocks with whirlwind sound.<br><br> + +Thro' Nature's vale his homely pleasures glide<br> +Unstain'd by envy, discontent, and pride,<br> +The bound of all his vanity to deck<br> +With one bright bell a favourite heifer's neck;<br> +Content upon some simple annual feast,<br> +Remember'd half the year, and hop'd the rest,<br> +If dairy produce, from his inner hoard,<br> +Of thrice ten summers consecrate the board.<br> +—Alas! in every clime a flying ray<br> +Is all we have to chear our wintry way,<br> +Condemn'd, in mists and tempests ever rife,<br> +To pant slow up the endless Alp of life.<br> +"Here," cried a swain, whose venerable head<br> +Bloom'd with the snow-drops of Man's narrow bed,<br> +Last night, while by his dying fire, as clos'd<br> +The day, in luxury my limbs repos'd,<br> +"Here Penury oft from misery's mount will guide<br> +Ev'n to the summer door his icy tide,<br> +And here the avalanche of Death destroy<br> +The little cottage of domestic Joy.<br> +But, ah! th' unwilling mind may more than trace<br> +The general sorrows of the human race:<br> +The churlish gales, that unremitting blow<br> +Cold from necessity's continual snow,<br> +To us the gentle groups of bliss deny<br> +That on the noon-day bank of leisure lie.<br> +Yet more; the tyrant Genius, still at strife<br> +With all the tender Charities of life,<br> +When close and closer they begin to strain,<br> +No fond hand left to staunch th' unclosing vein,<br> +Tearing their bleeding ties leaves Age to groan<br> +On his wet bed, abandon'd and alone.<br> +For ever, fast as they of strength become<br> +To pay the filial debt, for food to roam,<br> +The father, forc'd by Powers that only deign<br> +That solitary Man disturb their reign,<br> +From his bare nest amid the storms of heaven<br> +Drives, eagle-like, his sons as he was driven,<br> +His last dread pleasure! watches to the plain—<br> +And never, eagle-like, beholds again."<br> + <br> +When the poor heart has all its joys resign'd,<br> +Why does their sad remembrance cleave behind?<br> +Lo! by the lazy Seine the exile roves,<br> +Or where thick sails illume Batavia's groves;<br> +Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell,<br> +Unlocking bleeding Thought's "memorial cell";<br> +At once upon his heart Despair has set<br> +Her seal, the mortal tear his cheek has wet;<br> +Strong poison not a form of steel can brave<br> +Bows his young hairs with sorrow to the grave.<br> + Gay lark of hope thy silent song resume!<br> +Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume!<br> +Soft gales and dews of life's delicious morn,<br> +And thou, lost fragrance of the heart return!<br> +Soon flies the little joy to man allow'd,<br> +And tears before him travel like a cloud.<br> +For come Diseases on, and Penury's rage,<br> +Labour, and Pain, and Grief, and joyless Age,<br> +And Conscience dogging close his bleeding way<br> +Cries out, and leads her Spectres to their prey,<br> +'Till Hope-deserted, long in vain his breath<br> +Implores the dreadful untried sleep of Death.<br> +—Mid savage rocks and seas of snow that shine<br> +Between interminable tracts of pine,<br> +Round a lone fane the human Genii mourn,<br> +Where fierce the rays of woe collected burn.<br> +—From viewless lamps a ghastly dimness falls,<br> +And ebbs uncertain on the troubled walls,<br> +Dim dreadful faces thro' the gloom appear,<br> +Abortive Joy, and Hope that works in fear,<br> +While strives a secret Power to hush the crowd,<br> +Pain's wild rebellious burst proclaims her rights aloud.<br> + Oh give not me that eye of hard disdain<br> +That views undimm'd Einsiedlen's wretched fane.<br> +Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torment meet,<br> +Dire clap of hands, distracted chafe of feet,<br> +While loud and dull ascends the weeping cry,<br> +Surely in other thoughts contempt may die.<br> +If the sad grave of human ignorance bear<br> +One flower of hope—Oh pass and leave it there.<br><br> + +—The tall Sun, tiptoe on an Alpine spire,<br> +Flings o'er the desert blood-red streams of fire.<br> +At such an hour there are who love to stray,<br> +And meet the gladdening pilgrims on their way.<br> +—Now with joy's tearful kiss each other greet,<br> +Nor longer naked be your way-worn feet,<br> +For ye have reach'd at last that happy shore,<br> +Where the charm'd worm of pain shall gnaw no more.<br> +How gayly murmur and how sweetly taste<br> +The fountains rear'd for you amid the waste!<br> +Yes I will see you when ye first behold<br> +Those turrets tipp'd by hope with morning gold,<br> +And watch, while on your brows the cross ye make,<br> +Round your pale eyes a wintry lustre wake.<br> +—Without one hope her written griefs to blot,<br> +Save in the land where all things are forgot,<br> +My heart, alive to transports long unknown,<br> +Half wishes your delusion were it's own.<br> + <br> +Last let us turn to where Chamouny shields,<br> +Bosom'd in gloomy woods, her golden fields,<br> +Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,<br> +And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend,<br> +A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns<br> +Of purple lights and ever vernal plains.<br> +Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fann'd,<br> +Here all the Seasons revel hand in hand,<br> +—Red stream the cottage lights; the landscape fades,<br> +Erroneous wavering mid the twilight shades.<br> +Alone ascends that mountain nam'd of white,<br> +That dallies with the Sun the summer night.<br> +Six thousand years amid his lonely bounds<br> +The voice of Ruin, day and night, resounds.<br> +Where Horror-led his sea of ice assails,<br> +Havoc and Chaos blast a thousand vales,<br> +In waves, like two enormous serpents, wind<br> +And drag their length of deluge train behind.<br> +Between the pines enormous boughs descry'd<br> +Serene he towers, in deepest purple dy'd;<br> +Glad Day-light laughs upon his top of snow,<br> +Glitter the stars above, and all is black below.<br> + <br> +At such an hour I heav'd the human sigh,<br> +When roar'd the sullen Arve in anger by,<br> +That not for thee, delicious vale! unfold<br> +Thy reddening orchards, and thy fields of gold;<br> +That thou, the slave of slaves, art doom'd to pine,<br> +While no Italian arts their charms combine<br> +To teach the skirt of thy dark cloud to shine;<br> +For thy poor babes that, hurrying from the door,<br> +With pale-blue hands, and eyes that fix'd implore,<br> +Dead muttering lips, and hair of hungry white,<br> +Besiege the traveller whom they half affright.<br> +—Yes, were it mine, the cottage meal to share<br> +Forc'd from my native mountains bleak and bare;<br> +O'er Anet's hopeless seas of marsh to stray,<br> +Her shrill winds roaring round my lonely way;<br> +To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose,<br> +And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;<br> +In the wide range of many a weary round,<br> +Still have my pilgrim feet unfailing found,<br> +As despot courts their blaze of gems display,<br> +Ev'n by the secret cottage far away<br> +The lilly of domestic joy decay;<br> +While Freedom's farthest hamlets blessings share,<br> +Found still beneath her smile, and only there.<br> +The casement shade more luscious woodbine binds,<br> +And to the door a neater pathway winds,<br> +At early morn the careful housewife, led<br> +To cull her dinner from it's garden bed,<br> +Of weedless herbs a healthier prospect sees,<br> +While hum with busier joy her happy bees;<br> +In brighter rows her table wealth aspires,<br> +And laugh with merrier blaze her evening fires;<br> +Her infant's cheeks with fresher roses glow,<br> +And wilder graces sport around their brow;<br> +By clearer taper lit a cleanlier board<br> +Receives at supper hour her tempting hoard;<br> +The chamber hearth with fresher boughs is spread,<br> +And whiter is the hospitable bed.<br><br> + +—And thou! fair favoured region! which my soul<br> +Shall love, till Life has broke her golden bowl,<br> +Till Death's cold touch her cistern-wheel assail,<br> +And vain regret and vain desire shall fail;<br> +Tho' now, where erst the grey-clad peasant stray'd,<br> +To break the quiet of the village shade <br> +Gleam war's discordant habits thro' the trees,<br> +And the red banner mock the sullen breeze;<br> +Tho' now no more thy maids their voices suit<br> +To the low-warbled breath of twilight lute,<br> +And heard, the pausing village hum between,<br> +No solemn songstress lull the fading green,<br> +Scared by the fife, and rumbling drum's alarms,<br> +And the short thunder, and the flash of arms;<br> +While, as Night bids the startling uproar die,<br> +Sole sound, the sourd renews his mournful cry:<br> +—Yet, hast thou found that Freedom spreads her pow'r<br> +Beyond the cottage hearth, the cottage door:<br> +All nature smiles; and owns beneath her eyes<br> +Her fields peculiar, and peculiar skies.<br> +Yes, as I roam'd where Loiret's waters glide<br> +Thro' rustling aspins heard from side to side,<br> +When from October clouds a milder light<br> +Fell, where the blue flood rippled into white,<br> +Methought from every cot the watchful bird<br> +Crowed with ear-piercing power 'till then unheard;<br> +Each clacking mill, that broke the murmuring streams,<br> +Rock'd the charm'd thought in more delightful dreams;<br> +Chasing those long long dreams the falling leaf<br> +Awoke a fainter pang of moral grief;<br> +The measured echo of the distant flail<br> +Winded in sweeter cadence down the vale;<br> +A more majestic tide the water roll'd,<br> +And glowed the sun-gilt groves in richer gold:<br> + <br> +—Tho' Liberty shall soon, indignant, raise<br> +Red on his hills his beacon's comet blaze;<br> +Bid from on high his lonely cannon sound,<br> +And on ten thousand hearths his shout rebound;<br> +His larum-bell from village-tow'r to tow'r<br> +Swing on th' astounded ear it's dull undying roar:<br> +Yet, yet rejoice, tho' Pride's perverted ire<br> +Rouze Hell's own aid, and wrap thy hills in fire.<br> +Lo! from th' innocuous flames, a lovely birth!<br> +With it's own Virtues springs another earth:<br> +Nature, as in her prime, her virgin reign<br> +Begins, and Love and Truth compose her train;<br> +With pulseless hand, and fix'd unwearied gaze,<br> +Unbreathing Justice her still beam surveys:<br> +No more, along thy vales and viny groves,<br> +Whole hamlets disappearing as he moves,<br> +With cheeks o'erspread by smiles of baleful glow,<br> +On his pale horse shall fell Consumption go.<br> + <br> +Oh give, great God, to Freedom's waves to ride<br> +Sublime o'er Conquest, Avarice, and Pride,<br> +To break, the vales where Death with Famine scow'rs,<br> +And dark Oppression builds her thick-ribb'd tow'rs;<br> +Where Machination her fell soul resigns,<br> +Fled panting to the centre of her mines;<br> +Where Persecution decks with ghastly smiles<br> +Her bed, his mountains mad Ambition piles;<br> +Where Discord stalks dilating, every hour,<br> +And crouching fearful at the feet of Pow'r,<br> +Like Lightnings eager for th' almighty word,<br> +Look up for sign of havoc, Fire, and Sword;<br> +—Give them, beneath their breast while Gladness springs,<br> +To brood the nations o'er with Nile-like wings;<br> +And grant that every sceptred child of clay,<br> +Who cries, presumptuous, "here their tides shall stay,"<br> +Swept in their anger from th' affrighted shore,<br> +With all his creatures sink—to rise no more.<br> + To-night, my friend, within this humble cot<br> +Be the dead load of mortal ills forgot,<br> +Renewing, when the rosy summits glow<br> +At morn, our various journey, sad and slow.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29B"></a><a href="#29B"><sup>B</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29C"></a><a href="#29C"><sup>C</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29D"></a><a href="#29D"><sup>D</sup></a><br> +<br> +<a name="fr29E"></a><a href="#29E"><sup>E</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29F"></a><a href="#29F"><sup>F</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29G"></a><a href="#29G"><sup>G</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29H"></a><a href="#29H"><sup>H</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29I"></a><a href="#29I"><sup>I</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> 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name="fr29T"></a><a href="#29T"><sup>T</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29U"></a><a href="#29U"><sup>U</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29V"></a><a href="#29V"><sup>V</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29W"></a><a href="#29W"><sup>W</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29X"></a><a href="#29X"><sup>X</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> 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href="#29Cc"><sup>Cc</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29Dd"></a><a href="#29Dd"><sup>Dd</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29Ee"></a><a href="#29Ee"><sup>Ee</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29Ff"></a><a href="#29Ff"><sup>Ff</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29Gg"></a><a href="#29Gg"><sup>Gg</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29Hh"></a><a href="#29Hh"><sup>Hh</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29Ii"></a><a href="#29Ii"><sup>Ii</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="fr29Jj"></a><a href="#29Jj"><sup>Jj</sup></a><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> 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+<br> +<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="29A"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote A:</span></a> All the notes to this reprint of the edition of 1793 are +Wordsworth's own, as given in that edition.—Ed.<br> +<a href="#fr29A">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> The lyre of Memnon is reported to have emitted melancholy +or chearful tones, as it was touched by the sun's evening or morning +rays.<br> +<a href="#fr29B">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> There are few people whom it may be necessary to inform, +that the sides of many of the post-roads in France are planted with a +row of trees.<br> +<a href="#fr29C">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> Alluding to crosses seen on the tops of the spiry rocks of +the Chartreuse, which have every appearance of being inaccessible.<br> +<a href="#fr29D">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29E"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote E:</span></a> Names of rivers at the Chartreuse.<br> +<a href="#fr29E">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29F"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote F:</span></a> Name of one of the vallies of the Chartreuse.<br> +<a href="#fr29F">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29G"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote G:</span></a> If any of my readers should ever visit the Lake of Como, I +recommend it to him to take a stroll along this charming little pathway: +he must chuse the evening, as it is on the western side of the Lake. We +pursued it from the foot of the water to it's head: it is once +interrupted by a ferry.<br> +<a href="#fr29G">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29H"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote H:</span></a> + + <blockquote>Solo, e pensoso i più deserti campi<br> + Vò misurando à passi tardi, e lenti.</blockquote> +<i>Petrarch</i>.<br> +<a href="#fr29H">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29I"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote I:</span></a> The river along whose banks you descend in crossing the +Alps by the Semplon pass. From the striking contrast of it's features, +this pass I should imagine to be the most interesting among the Alps.<br> +<a href="#fr29I">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29J"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote J:</span></a> Most of the bridges among the Alps are of wood and covered: +these bridges have a heavy appearance, and rather injure the effect of +the scenery in some places.<br> +<a href="#fr29J">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29K"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote K:</span></a> + + <blockquote>"Red came the river down, and loud, and oft<br> + The angry Spirit of the water shriek'd."</blockquote> + +<b>Home's</b> <i>Douglas</i>.<br> +<a href="#fr29K">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29L"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote L:</span></a> The Catholic religion prevails here, these cells are, as is +well known, very common in the Catholic countries, planted, like the +Roman tombs, along the road side.<br> +<a href="#fr29L">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29M"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote M:</span></a> Crosses commemorative of the deaths of travellers by the +fall of snow and other accidents very common along this dreadful road.<br> +<a href="#fr29M">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29N"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote N:</span></a> The houses in the more retired Swiss valleys are all built +of wood.<br> +<a href="#fr29N">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29O"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote O:</span></a> I had once given to these sketches the title of +Picturesque; but the Alps are insulted in applying to them that term. +Whoever, in attempting to describe their sublime features, should +confine himself to the cold rules of painting would give his reader but +a very imperfect idea of those emotions which they have the irresistible +power of communicating to the most impassive imaginations. The fact is, +that controuling influence, which distinguishes the Alps from all other +scenery, is derived from images which disdain the pencil. Had I wished +to make a picture of this scene I had thrown much less light into it. +But I consulted nature and my feelings. The ideas excited by the stormy +sunset I am here describing owed their sublimity to that deluge of +light, or rather of fire, in which nature had wrapped the immense forms +around me; any intrusion of shade, by destroying the unity of the +impression, had necessarily diminished its grandeur.<br> +<a href="#fr29O">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29P"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote P:</span></a> Pike is a word very commonly used in the north of England, +to signify a high mountain of the conic form, as Langdale pike, etc.<br> +<a href="#fr29P">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Q"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Q:</span></a> For most of the images in the next sixteen verses I am +indebted to M. Raymond's interesting observations annexed to his +translation of Coxe's <i>Tour in Switzerland</i>.<br> +<a href="#fr29Q">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29R"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote R:</span></a> The rays of the sun drying the rocks frequently produce on +their surface a dust so subtile and slippery, that the wretched +chamois-chasers are obliged to bleed themselves in the legs and feet in +order to secure a footing.<br> +<a href="#fr29R">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29S"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote S:</span></a> The people of this Canton are supposed to be of a more +melancholy disposition than the other inhabitants of the Alps: this, if +true, may proceed from their living more secluded.<br> +<a href="#fr29S">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29T"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote T:</span></a> These summer hamlets are most probably (as I have seen +observed by a critic in the <i>Gentleman's Magazine</i>) what Virgil alludes +to in the expression "Castella in tumulis."<br> +<a href="#fr29T">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29U"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote U:</span></a> Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind +through the trees.<br> +<a href="#fr29U">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29V"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote V:</span></a> This wind, which announces the spring to the Swiss, is +called in their language Foen; and is according to M. Raymond the Syroco +of the Italians.<br> +<a href="#fr29V">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29W"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote W:</span></a> This tradition of the golden age of the Alps, as M. Raymond +observes, is highly interesting, interesting not less to the philosopher +than to the poet. Here I cannot help remarking, that the superstitions +of the Alps appear to be far from possessing that poetical character +which so eminently distinguishes those of Scotland and the other +mountainous northern countries. The Devil with his horns, etc., seems to +be in their idea, the principal agent that brings about the sublime +natural revolutions that take place daily before their eyes.<br> +<a href="#fr29W">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29X"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote X:</span></a> Alluding to several battles which the Swiss in very small +numbers have gained over their oppressors the house of Austria; and in +particular, to one fought at Naeffels near Glarus, where three hundred +and thirty men defeated an army of between fifteen and twenty thousand +Austrians. Scattered over the valley are to be found eleven stones, with +this inscription, 1388, the year the battle was fought, marking out as I +was told upon the spot, the several places where the Austrians +attempting to make a stand were repulsed anew.<br> +<a href="#fr29X">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Y"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Y:</span></a> As Schreck-Horn, the pike of terror. Wetter-Horn, the pike +of storms, etc. etc.<br> +<a href="#fr29Y">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Z"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Z:</span></a> The effect of the famous air called in French Ranz des +Vaches upon the Swiss troops removed from their native country is well +known, as also the injunction of not playing it on pain of death, before +the regiments of that nation, in the service of France and Holland.<br> +<a href="#fr29Z">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Aa"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Aa:</span></a> Optima quæque dies, etc.<br> +<a href="#fr29Aa">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Bb"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Bb:</span></a> This shrine is resorted to, from a hope of relief, by +multitudes, from every corner of the Catholick world, labouring under +mental or bodily afflictions.<br> +<a href="#fr29Bb">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Cc"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Cc:</span></a> Rude fountains built and covered with sheds for the +accommodation of the pilgrims, in their ascent of the mountain. Under +these sheds the sentimental traveller and the philosopher may find +interesting sources of meditation.<br> +<a href="#fr29Cc">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Dd"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Dd:</span></a> This word is pronounced upon the spot Chàmouny, I have +taken the liberty of reading it long thinking it more musical.<br> +<a href="#fr29Dd">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Ee"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Ee:</span></a> It is only from the higher part of the valley of Chàmouny +that Mont Blanc is visible.<br> +<a href="#fr29Ee">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Ff"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Ff:</span></a> It is scarce necessary to observe that these lines were +written before the emancipation of Savoy.<br> +<a href="#fr29Ff">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Gg"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Gg:</span></a> A vast extent of marsh so called near the lake of +Neuf-chatel.<br> +<a href="#fr29Gg">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Hh"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Hh:</span></a> This, as may be supposed, was written before France became +the seat of war.<br> +<a href="#fr29Hh">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Ii"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Ii:</span></a> An insect so called, which emits a short, melancholy cry, +heard, at the close of the summer evenings, on the banks of the Loire.<br> +<a href="#fr29Ii">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Jj"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Jj:</span></a> The river Loiret, which has the honour of giving name to a +department, rises out of the earth at a place, called La Source, a +league and a half south-east of Orleans, and taking at once the +character of a considerable stream, winds under a most delicious bank on +its left, with a flat country of meadows, woods, and vineyards on its +right, till it falls into the Loire about three or four leagues below +Orleans. The hand of false taste has committed on its banks those +outrages which the Abbé de Lille so pathetically deprecates in those +charming verses descriptive of the Seine, visiting in secret the retreat +of his friend Watelet. Much as the Loiret, in its short course, suffers +from injudicious ornament, yet are there spots to be found upon its +banks as soothing as meditation could wish for: the curious traveller +may meet with some of them where it loses itself among the mills in the +neighbourhood of the villa called La Fontaine. The walks of La Source, +where it takes its rise, may, in the eyes of some people, derive an +additional interest from the recollection that they were the retreat of +Bolingbroke during his exile, and that here it was that his +philosophical works were chiefly composed. The inscriptions, of which he +speaks in one of his letters to Swift descriptive of this spot, are not, +I believe, now extant. The gardens have been modelled within these +twenty years according to a plan evidently not dictated by the taste of +the friend of Pope.<br> +<a href="#fr29Jj">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Kk"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Kk:</span></a> The duties upon many parts of the French rivers were so +exorbitant that the poorer people, deprived of the benefit of water +carriage, were obliged to transport their goods by land.<br> +<a href="#fr29Kk">return</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="29Ll"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Ll:</span></a> + + <blockquote> —And, at his heels,<br> + Leash'd in like hounds, should Famine, Sword, and Fire,<br> + Crouch for employment.</blockquote> +<a href="#fr29Ll">return</a><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h3><a name="section30">Appendix II</a></h3> +<br> +The following is Wordsworth's Itinerary of the Tour, taken by him and +his friend Jones, which gave rise to <i>Descriptive Sketches</i>.<br> +<br> +<table summary="itinerary" cellspacing="2" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <th><i>month</i></th> + <th><i>day</i></th> + <th><i>location</i></th> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>July</td> + <td>13</td> + <td>Calais</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>14</td> + <td>Ardres</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>17</td> + <td>Péronne</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>18</td> + <td>village near Coucy</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>19</td> + <td>Soissons</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>20</td> + <td>Château Thierry</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>21</td> + <td>Sézanne</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>22</td> + <td>village near Troyes</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>23</td> + <td>Bar-le-Duc</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>24</td> + <td>Chatillon-sur-Seine</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>26</td> + <td>Nuits</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>27-8</td> + <td>Châlons</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>29</td> + <td>on the Saône</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>30</td> + <td>Lyons</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>31</td> + <td>Condrieu</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>August</td> + <td>1</td> + <td>Moreau</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>2</td> + <td>Voreppe</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>3</td> + <td>village near Chartreuse</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>4</td> + <td>Chartreuse</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>6</td> + <td>Aix</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>7</td> + <td>town in Savoy</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>8</td> + <td>town on Lake of Geneva</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>9</td> + <td>Lausanne</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>10</td> + <td>Villeneuve</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>11</td> + <td>St. Maurice in the Valais</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>12-3</td> + <td>Chamouny</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>14</td> + <td>Martigny</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>15</td> + <td>village beyond Sion</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>16</td> + <td>Brieg</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>17</td> + <td>Spital on Alps</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>18</td> + <td>Margozza</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>19</td> + <td>vllage beyond Lago Maggiore</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>20</td> + <td>village on Lago di Como.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>21</td> + <td>village beyond Gravedona</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>22</td> + <td>Jones at Chiavenna; W. W. at Samolaco</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>23</td> + <td>Sovozza</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>24</td> + <td>Splügen</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>25</td> + <td>Flems</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>26</td> + <td>Dissentis</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>27</td> + <td>village on the Reuss</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>28</td> + <td>Fluelen</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>29</td> + <td>Lucerne</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>30</td> + <td>village on the Lake of Zurich</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>31</td> + <td>Einsiedlen</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>September</td> + <td>1-2</td> + <td>Glarus</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>3</td> + <td>village beyond Lake of Wallenstadt</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>4</td> + <td>village on road to Appenzell</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>5</td> + <td>Appenzell</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>6</td> + <td>Keswill, on Lake of Constance</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>7-8</td> + <td>on the Rhine</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>9</td> + <td>on road to Lucerne</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>10</td> + <td>Lucerne</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>11</td> + <td>Saxeln</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>12</td> + <td>Village on the Aar</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>13</td> + <td>Grindelwald</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>14</td> + <td>Lauterbrunnen</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>15</td> + <td>Village three leagues from Berne</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>16</td> + <td>Avranches</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>19</td> + <td>village beyond Pierre Pertuises</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>20</td> + <td>village four leagues from Basle</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>21</td> + <td>Basle</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>22</td> + <td>Town six leagues from Strasburg</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>23</td> + <td>Spires</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>24</td> + <td>Village on Rhine</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>25</td> + <td>Mentz, Mayence</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>27</td> + <td>village on Rhine, two leagues from Coblentz</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>28</td> + <td>Cologne</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td></td> + <td>29</td> + <td>Village three leagues from Aix-la-Chapelle</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +The pedestrians bought a boat at Basle, and in it floated down the Rhine +as far as Cologne, intending to proceed in the same way to Ostend; but +they returned to England from Cologne by Calais. In the course of this +tour, Wordsworth wrote a letter to his sister, dated "Sept. 6, 1790, +Keswill, a small village on the Lake of Constance," which will be found +amongst his letters in a subsequent volume.—Ed.<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section31">Appendix III</a></h2> +<br> +The following two variants in <i>Descriptive Sketches</i> are from MS. notes +written in the late Lord Coleridge's copy of the edition of 1836-7. + +<table summary="itinerary" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>l. 247</td> + <td>Yet the world's business hither finds its way<br> +At times, and unsought tales beguile the day,<br> +And tender thoughts are those which Solitude</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>l. 249</td> + <td>Yet tender thoughts dwell there. No Solitude<br> +Hath power Youth's natural feelings to exclude.</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section32">Appendix IV</a></h2> +<br> +<i>Anecdote for Fathers</i><br> +<br> +See Eusebius' <i>Præparatio Evangelica</i>, vi. 5.: + +<blockquote><img src="images/WGk1.gif" width="449" height="43" border="1" alt="Greek: kleie bi_en +kartos te log_on pseud_egora lex_o"></blockquote> + + +which was Apollo's answer to +certain persons who tried to force his oracle to reply.—Ed.<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section33">Appendix V</a></h2> +<br> +<i>The Thorn</i><br> +<br> +William Taylor's translation of Bürger's <i>Pfarrer's Tochter</i> appeared in +<i>The Monthly Magazine</i> (1796), and as the same volume contained +contributions by Coleridge and Lamb, it is possible that Wordsworth saw +it. Bürger's Pastor's Daughter murdered her natural child, but it is her +ghost which haunts its grave, which she had torn + + <blockquote>With bleeding nails beside the pond,<br> + And nightly pines the pool beside.</blockquote> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section34">Appendix VI</a></h2> +<br> +<i>Simon Lee</i><br> +<br> +It was found impossible fully to describe, within the limits of a +footnote, the endless shiftings to and fro of the stanzas and half +stanzas of 'Simon Lee'. The first eight stanzas of the edition of 1798 +are therefore reprinted in this Appendix; and a Table is added, by means +of which the various transpositions effected from time to time may be +readily ascertained. In the Table 'a' stands for lines 1-4, and 'b' for +lines 5-8 of a stanza.<br><br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + + +<blockquote>In the sweet shire of Cardigan,<br> +Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall,<br> +An old man dwells, a little man,<br> +I've heard he once was tall.<br> +Of years he has upon his back,<br> +No doubt, a burthen weighty;<br> +He says he is three score and ten,<br> +But others say he's eighty.<br><br> + +A long blue livery-coat has he,<br> +That's fair behind, and fair before;<br> +Yet, meet him where you will, you see<br> +At once that he is poor.<br> +Full five and twenty years he lived<br> +A running huntsman merry;<br> +And, though he has but one eye left,<br> +His cheek is like a cherry.<br><br> + +No man like him the horn could sound,<br> +And no man was so full of glee;<br> +To say the least, four counties round<br> +Had heard of Simon Lee;<br> +His master's dead, and no one now<br> +Dwells in the hall of Ivor;<br> +Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;<br> +He is the sole survivor.<br><br> + +His hunting feats have him bereft<br> +Of his right eye, as you may see:<br> +And then, what limbs those feats have left<br> +To poor old Simon Lee!<br> +He has no son, he has no child,<br> +His wife, an aged woman,<br> +Lives with him, near the waterfall,<br> +Upon the village common.<br><br> + +And he is lean and he is sick,<br> +His little body's half awry<br> +His ancles they are swoln and thick;<br> +His legs are thin and dry.<br> +When he was young he little knew<br> +Of husbandry or tillage;<br> +And now he's forced to work, though weak,<br> +—The weakest in the village.<br><br> + +He all the country could outrun,<br> +Could leave both man and horse behind;<br> +And often, ere the race was done,<br> +He reeled and was stone-blind.<br> +And still there's something in the world<br> +At which his heart rejoices;<br> +For when the chiming hounds are out,<br> +He dearly loves their voices!<br><br> + +Old Ruth works out of doors with him,<br> +And does what Simon cannot do;<br> +For she, not over stout of limb,<br> +Is stouter of the two.<br> +And though you with your utmost skill<br> +From labour could not wean them,<br> +Alas! 'tis very little, all<br> +Which they can do between them.<br><br> + +Beside their moss-grown hut of clay,<br> +Not twenty paces from the door,<br> +A scrap of land they have, but they<br> +Are poorest of the poor.<br> +This scrap of land he from the heath<br> +Enclosed when he was stronger;<br> +But what avails the land to them,<br> +Which they can till no longer?</blockquote><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<table summary="variants" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <th>Editions 1798 <br> + and 1800</th> + <th>Editions <br> + 1802-1815</th> + <th>Edition <br> + 1820</th> + <th>Edition <br> + 1827</th> + <th>Editions <br> + 1832-1849</th> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1</td> + <td>1</td> + <td>1a<br> + 2b</td> + <td>1a<br> + 2b</td> + <td>1a<br> + 2b</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>2</td> + <td>2</td> + <td>3</td> + <td>4a<br> + 3b</td> + <td>3a<br> + 5b</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>3</td> + <td>3</td> + <td>4a<br> + 5b</td> + <td>3a<br> + 5b</td> + <td>6</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>4</td> + <td>6</td> + <td>6</td> + <td>6</td> + <td>4a<br> + 3b</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>5</td> + <td>4</td> + <td>5a<br> + 4b</td> + <td>5a<br> + 4b</td> + <td>5a<br> + 4b</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>6</td> + <td>5</td> + <td>7</td> + <td>8</td> + <td>8</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>7</td> + <td>7</td> + <td>8</td> + <td>7</td> + <td>7</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>8</td> + <td>8</td> + <td>9</td> + <td>9</td> + <td>9</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section35">Appendix VII</a></h2> +<br> +<i>Lines written in Early Spring</i>, ll. 11, 12<br> +<br> +Compare the <i>Laws of Manu</i>, i. 49: + + <blockquote> "Vegetables, as well as animals, have internal consciousness, and are + sensible of pleasure and pain."</blockquote> + +This I have received from a correspondent, but I have never seen the +English version.—Ed.<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section36">Appendix VIII</a></h2> +<br> +<i>An Evening Walk</i><br> +<br> +<br> +(1) l. 219, + + <blockquote> "His neck, a varying arch, between his towering wings."</blockquote> + +Compare <i>Paradise Lost</i>, book vii. l. 438.<br> +<br> +<br> + +(2) l. 286, in the footnote reading of 1793, the line occurs + + <blockquote> "Or clock, that blind against the wanderer borne."</blockquote> + +This refers to the winged beetle, the buzzard-clock.<br> +<br> +<br> +(3) l. 323, "The bird, etc." The owl. Compare Cowper's <i>Task</i>, i. ll. +205, 206.<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a><br> +<a href="#fp1">Contents p.2</a></p> +<hr><br><br> +<br> +<br> +<b><i>end of text</i></b> +<br> + + + +<hr> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10219 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/10219-h/images/WGk1.gif b/10219-h/images/WGk1.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..62e00ac --- /dev/null +++ b/10219-h/images/WGk1.gif diff --git a/10219-h/images/WI1.gif b/10219-h/images/WI1.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d1edeb7 --- /dev/null +++ b/10219-h/images/WI1.gif |
