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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
+Edited by William Knight
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
+ Volume 1 of 8
+
+Author: (Edited by William Knight)
+
+Release Date: November 23, 2003 [EBook #10219]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETRY OF WORDSWORTH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Clytie Siddall and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE POETICAL WORKS
+
+ OF
+
+
+
+ WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
+
+
+
+
+
+ EDITED BY
+ WILLIAM KNIGHT
+
+
+ VOL. I
+
+
+ 1896
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+Extract from the Conclusion of a Poem, composed in Anticipation of
+ leaving School
+Written in very Early Youth
+An Evening Walk
+Lines written while Sailing in a Boat at Evening
+Remembrance of Collins
+Descriptive Sketches taken during a Pedestrian Tour among the Alps
+Guilt and Sorrow; or, Incidents upon Salisbury Plain
+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
+The Borderers
+The Reverie of Poor Susan
+1798
+A Night Piece
+We are Seven
+Anecdote for Fathers
+"A whirl-blast from behind the hill"
+The Thorn
+Goody Blake and Harry Gill
+Her Eyes are Wild
+Simon Lee, the Old Huntsman
+Lines written in Early Spring
+To my Sister
+Expostulation and Reply
+The Tables Turned
+The Complaint of a Forsaken Indian Woman
+The Last of the Flock
+The Idiot Boy
+The Old Cumberland Beggar
+Animal Tranquillity and Decay
+
+APPENDIX I.
+APPENDIX II.
+APPENDIX III.
+APPENDIX IV.
+APPENDIX V.
+APPENDIX VI.
+APPENDIX VII.
+APPENDIX VIII.
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+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 'Description of the Scenery of the Lakes in the North of England'.
+This edition was published by Mr. Paterson, Edinburgh, at intervals
+between the years 1882 and 1886: and it was followed in 1889 by a 'Life
+of Wordsworth', in three volumes, which was a continuation of the
+previous eight.
+
+The 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 'Memorials of Coleorton', and in 'The
+English Lake District as interpreted in the Poems of Wordsworth'--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 [1].
+'Errata' 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.
+
+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:
+
+FIRST, 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.
+
+SECOND, the changes of text made by Wordsworth in the successive
+editions of his Poems, are given in footnotes, with the dates of the
+changes.
+
+THIRD, 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.
+
+FOURTH, 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.
+
+FIFTH, 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.
+
+SIXTH, 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.
+
+SEVENTH, 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.
+
+EIGHTH, a new Life of the Poet is given.
+
+These features of the edition of 1882-6 are preserved in that of 1896,
+and the following are added:
+
+FIRST, 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.
+
+SECOND, 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, the Fenwick notes, and the Editor's in
+different type, and in type of a decreasing size; but the idea occurred
+to me too late, i. e. after the first volume had been passed for press.
+
+THIRD, 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.
+
+FOURTH, 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.
+
+FIFTH, 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 'Memoirs' of his uncle, in
+'The Diary, Reminiscences, and Correspondence of Henry Crabb Robinson',
+in the 'Memorials of Coleorton' and my own 'Life' of the Poet, in the
+'Prose Works', in the 'Transactions of the Wordsworth Society', in the
+'Letters of Charles Lamb', in the 'Memorials of Thomas De Quincey', 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.
+
+SIXTH, 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, 'Le Général Michel Beaupuy' (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, 'William Wordsworth: sein Leben, seine Werke, seine
+Zeitgenossen', (1893), has similarly helped me in reference to German
+criticism.
+
+SEVENTH, As the Poet's Letters, and his sister's Journals, will appear
+in earlier volumes, the new 'Life of Wordsworth' will be much shorter
+than that which was published in 1889, in three volumes 8vo. It will not
+exceed a single volume.
+
+EIGHTH, 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 'Life'. 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.
+
+
+ Vol. PORTRAITS / VIGNETTES
+
+
+THE POEMS.
+
+ I. W. Wordsworth, by W. Shuter. Cockermouth.
+
+ II. " " by Robert Hancock. Dame Tyson's Cottage, Hawkshead.
+
+ III. " " by Edward Nash. Room in St. John's College, Cambridge.
+
+ IV. " " by Richard Carruthers. Racedown, Dorsetshire.
+
+ V. " " by William Boxall. Alfoxden, Somersetshire.
+
+ VI. " " by Henry William Pickersgill. Goslar.
+
+ VII. " " by Margaret Gillies. Dove Cottage.
+
+VIII. " " by Benjamin R. Haydon. The Rock of Names, Thirlmere.
+
+
+THE PROSE WORKS.
+
+ IX. " " by Henry Inman. Gallow Hill, Yorkshire.
+
+ X. " " by Margaret Gillies. Coleorton Hall, Leicestershire.
+
+
+THE JOURNALS.
+
+ XI. Dorothy Wordsworth, (Artist unknown). Allan Bank, Grasmere.
+
+ XII. Mary Wordsworth, by Margaret Gillies. Rydal Mount.
+
+
+CORRESPONDENCE.
+
+XIII. Dora Wordsworth, by Margaret Gillies. Bolton Abbey.
+
+ XIV. W. Wordsworth, by Edward C. Wyon. Blea Tarn.
+
+ XV. " " by Thomas Woolner. Peele Castle.
+
+
+THE LIFE.
+
+ XVI. " " by Frederick Thrupp. Grasmere Church and Churchyard.
+
+ " " by Samuel Laurence.
+
+ " " by Benjamin R. Haydon.
+
+
+All the etchings will be prepared by H. Manesse. The portraits, with
+many others, will be described in detail in a subsequent volume.
+
+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 italicised in this edition.
+
+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, 'Apology for the French
+Revolution'. 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 'Essays on Epitaphs'.
+
+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, 'or in any subsequent issue' 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 'The Thrush at Twilight', and 'The Thrush at Dawn'.
+Possibly Wordsworth would have approved of both of those titles: but,
+that they are not his, should have been indicated.
+
+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 'when' the title was Wordsworth's, and 'when' 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 'Margaret, or the Ruined
+Cottage', 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 'The Excursion'--written, it is true, in these early
+years,--but only issued as part of the latter poem, first published in
+1814.
+
+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 'sub judice'. 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 'The Excursion', 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.
+
+On the other hand, it would be quite out of place, in a note to the
+famous passage in the 4th book of 'The Excursion', beginning
+
+ ... I have seen
+ A curious child applying to his ear
+
+to enter on a discussion as to the extent of Wordsworth's debt--if
+any--to the author of 'Gebir'. It is quite sufficient to print the
+relative passage from Landor's poem at the foot of the page.
+
+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 'addenda', 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 'The Excursion', containing a reprint
+of the 'Essay upon Epitaphs'--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 'The Excursion'.
+
+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," 'The Prelude', 'The White Doe
+of Rylstone', 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."
+
+I have the greatest admiration for the work which Professor Dowden has
+done in his edition of Wordsworth; but the 'plan' 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
+'critically' 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 'addenda' they will be read by very few, and studied by
+fewer.
+
+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
+'must' 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, 'have' taken that
+trouble, or that future readers of the Aldine edition will take it.
+
+To refer, somewhat more in detail, to the features of this edition.
+
+
+FIRST. As to the 'Chronological Order' of the Poems.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Then, there is the case of two Poems following each other, in
+Wordsworth's own arrangement, by natural affinity; such as the 'Epistle
+to Sir George Beaumont', written in 1811, which in almost all existing
+editions is followed by the Poem written in 1841, and entitled, 'Upon
+perusing the foregoing Epistle thirty years after its composition'; or,
+the dedication to 'The White Doe of Rylstone', 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 'it was Wordsworth's own'; 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.
+
+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, 'Guilt and Sorrow; or,
+Incidents upon Salisbury Plain'--written in the years 1791-94--was not
+published 'in extenso' till 1842. The tragedy of 'The Borderers',
+composed in 1795-96, was also first published in 1842. 'The
+Prelude'--"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.
+
+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 'The
+Old Cumberland Beggar' 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 'Rural Architecture' 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 'The Reverie of
+Poor Susan', which had also appeared in "Lyrical Ballads," 1800.
+
+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 'Alice Fell' (1802), 'Beggars' (1802), 'To
+a Sky-Lark' (1805), and 'Resolution and Independence' (1802).
+
+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.
+
+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 'Inscription for the spot where the
+Hermitage stood on St. Herbert's Island, Derwentwater', 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.
+
+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.
+
+This chronological method of arrangement, however, has its limits. It is
+not possible always to adopt it: nor is it invariably 'necessary', 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 'Address to Kilchurn Castle' 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, 'The Highland Girl' 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 'Glen Almain'--although written afterwards at Rydal--retains its
+published place in the memorial group. Again the 'Departure from the
+Vale of Grasmere, August 1803', 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.
+
+On the same principle I have followed the 'Address to the Scholars of
+the Village School of----', by its natural sequel--'By the Side of the
+Grave some Years after', the date of the composition of which is
+unknown: and the 'Epistle to Sir George Beaumont' (1811) is followed by
+the later Lines, to which Wordsworth gave the most prosaic title--he was
+often infelicitous in his titles--'Upon perusing the foregoing Epistle
+thirty years after its composition'. A like remark applies to the poem
+'Beggars', which is followed by its own 'Sequel', although the order of
+date is disturbed; while all the "Epitaphs," translated from Chiabrera,
+are printed together.
+
+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." These, 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; [2] 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:
+
+ O mountain Stream! the Shepherd and his Cot,
+
+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 think 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. [3] 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 'or suggested'
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Poems which were several years in process of composition, having been
+laid aside, and taken up repeatedly; 'e.g. The Prelude', 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.
+
+There is one Poem which I have intentionally placed out of its
+chronological place, viz. the 'Ode, Intimations of Immortality from
+Recollections of Early Childhood'. 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; 'The
+Excursion' only following it, in a volume of its own. This was an
+arrangement made by Wordsworth, of set purpose, and steadily adhered
+to--the 'Ode' 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.
+
+Mr. Arnold's arrangement of the Poems, in his volume of Selections [4],
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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." Aubrey 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."
+[5] 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
+'The Horn of Egremont Castle' (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 'Ode' on
+Immortality among his "Epitaphs and Elegiac Poems"! As late as 27th
+September 1845, he wrote to Professor Henry Reed,
+
+ "Following your example" (i. e. 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 'primum mobile' 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."
+
+Could anything show more explicitly than this that Wordsworth was not
+perfectly satisfied with his own artificial groups? Professor 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.
+[6]
+
+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.
+
+
+SECOND The various Readings, or variations of text, 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 have 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. [7]
+
+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. The great public libraries of the country do
+not possess them all.[8] 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.
+
+The text which--after much consideration--I have resolved to place
+throughout, in the body of the work, is Wordsworth's own final 'textus
+receptus', i.e. the text of 1849-50, reproduced in the posthumous
+edition of 1857; [9] 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.
+
+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, 1st, the earliest text
+may be taken, or 2nd, the latest may be chosen, or 3rd, 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. A composite text, made up from two or more editions, would be
+inadmissible.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 'To a
+Skylark'--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.
+
+
+ Ethereal Minstrel! Pilgrim of the sky!
+ Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
+ Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye
+ Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?
+ Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,
+ Those quivering wings composed, that music still!
+
+ To the last point of vision, and beyond,
+ Mount, daring Warbler! that love-prompted strain,
+ ('Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond)
+ Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain:
+ Yet might'st thou seem, proud privilege! to sing
+ All independent of the leafy spring.
+
+ Leave to the Nightingale her shady wood;
+ A privacy of glorious light is thine;
+ Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
+ Of harmony, with rapture more divine;
+ Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
+ True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!
+
+
+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 'The Glowworm', of the edition of 1807,
+never republished; while 'The Waterfall and the Eglantine', and 'To the
+Spade of a Friend', were retained? To give one other illustration, where
+a score are possible. In the sonnet, belonging to the year 1807,
+beginning:
+
+ "Beloved Vale!" I said, "when I shall con,"
+
+we find, in the latest text, the lines--first adopted in 1827:
+
+ I stood, of simple shame the blushing Thrall;
+ So narrow seemed the brooks, the fields so small,
+
+while the early edition of 1807 contains the far happier lines:
+
+ To see the Trees, which I had thought so tall,
+ Mere dwarfs; the Brooks so narrow, Fields so small.
+
+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 'To the
+Cuckoo' (written in 1802) appeared in 1845, is an improvement on all its
+predecessors. I give the readings of 1807, 1815, 1820, 1827, and 1845.
+
+
+ While I am lying on the grass,
+ I hear thy restless shout:
+ From hill to hill it seems to pass,
+ About, and all about! 1807.
+
+ While I am lying on the grass,
+ Thy loud note smites my ear!--
+ From hill to hill it seems to pass,
+ At once far off and near! 1815.
+
+ While I am lying on the grass,
+ Thy loud note smites my ear!
+ It seems to fill the whole air's space,
+ At once far off and near. 1820.
+
+ While I am lying on the grass
+ Thy twofold shout I hear,
+ That seems to fill the whole air's space,
+ As loud far off as near. 1827.
+
+ While I am lying on the grass
+ Thy twofold shout I hear,
+ From hill to hill it seems to pass,
+ At once far off, and near. 1845.
+
+
+Similarly, in each of the three poems 'To the Daisy', composed in 1802,
+and in the 'Afterthought, to the Duddon', the alterations introduced
+into the latest editions were all improvements upon the early version.
+
+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.
+
+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 'The Prelude'.
+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.
+
+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. 'An Evening Walk' and 'Descriptive
+Sketches',--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 'Descriptive
+Sketches', 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." Nevertheless the earliest text of
+these 'Sketches' 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. [10] 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 'School
+Exercise written at Hawkshead' in the poet's fourteenth year, will be
+found in vol. viii. Passing over these juvenile efforts, there are
+poems--such as 'Guilt and Sorrow', 'Peter Bell', 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.
+
+It may 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." ('Memoirs of Wordsworth',
+vol. i. p. 174.) [11] 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."
+
+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 'The Female Vagrant', 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.
+
+A further reference to the 'Evening Walk' 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 'An Evening Walk',
+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 'verbatim' 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,
+
+ In these lone vales, if aught of faith may claim,
+ Thin silver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame;
+ When up the hills, as now, retreats the light,
+ Strange apparitions mock the village sight,
+
+is better than that finally adopted,
+
+ In these secluded vales, if village fame,
+ Confirmed by hoary hairs, belief may claim;
+ When up the hills, as now, retired the light,
+ Strange apparitions mocked the shepherd's sight.
+
+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.
+
+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, 'before' 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. The earlier readings then follow, in
+chronological order, with the year to which they belong; [12] 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.
+
+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 'Evening Walk' the following lines occur--
+
+ The dog, loud barking, 'mid the glittering rocks,
+ Hunts, where his master points, the intercepted flocks.
+
+And the footnote is as follows:
+
+ 1836.
+ That, barking busy 'mid the glittering rocks,
+ Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks; 1793.
+
+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.
+
+Again, in 'Simon Lee', the lines occur:
+
+ But what to them avails the land
+ Which he can till no longer?
+
+And the following are the footnotes:
+
+ 1845.
+ But what avails the land to them,
+ Which they can till no longer? 1798.
+
+ "But what," saith he, "avails the land,
+ Which I can till no longer? 1827.
+
+ But what avails it now, the land
+ Which he can till no longer? 1832.
+
+ 'Tis his, but what avails the land
+ Which he can till no longer? 1837.
+
+ The time, alas! is come when he
+ Can till the land no longer. 1840.
+
+ The time is also come when he
+ Can till the land no longer. C.
+
+
+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.
+
+The same thing is true of 'Descriptive Sketches'. 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.
+
+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 'Simon
+Lee', for example--it is always indicated.
+
+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.
+
+
+THIRD. In the present edition several suggested changes of text, 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:
+
+
+ "FOX GHYLL, AMBLESIDE, '4th October 1881'.
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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."
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+A copy of the 1814 (quarto) edition of 'The Excursion', 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.
+
+
+FOURTH. In the present edition all the Notes and Memoranda, explanatory
+of the Poems, which Wordsworth dictated to Miss Fenwick, 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 'Memoirs' 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 'The Prose Works of
+Wordsworth', 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
+'The Prose Works' 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.
+
+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.
+
+
+FIFTH. Topographical Notes, 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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. Of the 'Evening Walk'--written in his eighteenth year--he
+says that the plan of the poem
+
+ "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."[13]
+
+Again, he says of the 'Lines written while Sailing in a Boat at Evening':
+
+ "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"; [14]
+
+and of 'Guilt and Sorrow', he said,
+
+ "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." [15]
+
+In 'The Excursion' 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
+
+ "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. _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._ In every scene, many of the most brilliant details
+ are but accidental."
+
+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 'Evening Walk', 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.
+
+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 'The Excursion',--will admit that
+local commentary is an important aid to the understanding of Wordsworth.
+If to read the 'Yew Trees' in Borrowdale itself,
+
+ in mute repose
+ To lie, and listen to the mountain flood
+ Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves,
+
+to read 'The Brothers' 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 'The Prelude'? and who will fix the site of the pool in Rydal
+Upper Park, immortalised in the poem 'To M. H.'? 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 'The Prelude' 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 'The Excursion'; 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
+
+ the gleam,
+ The light that never was, on sea or land,
+ The consecration, and the Poet's dream.
+
+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.
+
+In this edition the topographical Notes usually follow the Poems to
+which they refer. But in the case of the longer Poems, such as 'The
+Prelude', 'The Excursion', 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.
+
+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 'authority' 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.
+
+
+SIXTH. Several Poems, and fragments of poems, hitherto unpublished--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.
+
+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.
+
+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 'Peter Bell' (1819) he put the following
+prefatory note to four sonnets, which had previously appeared in
+'Blackwood's Magazine', and which afterwards (1828) appeared in the
+'Poetical Album' of Alaric Watts, "The following Sonnets having lately
+appeared in Periodical Publications are here reprinted."
+
+Some of the poems (or fragments of poems), included in the 'addenda' 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. Even the Cambridge 'Installation Ode',
+which is so feeble, will be reprinted. [16] 'The Glowworm', which only
+appeared in the edition of 1807, will be republished in full. 'Andrew
+Jones',--also suppressed after appearing in "Lyrical Ballads" of 1800,
+1802, and 1805,--will be replaced, in like manner. The youthful 'School
+Exercise' written at Hawkshead, the translation from the 'Georgics' of
+Virgil, the poem addressed 'To the Queen' in 1846, will appear in their
+chronological place in vol. viii. There are also a translation of some
+French stanzas by Francis Wrangham on 'The Birth of Love'-a poem
+entitled 'The Eagle and the Dove', which was privately printed in a
+volume, consisting chiefly of French fragments, and called 'La petite
+Chouannerie, ou Historie d'un College Breton sous l'Empire'--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 truth is, as Sir Henry Taylor--himself a poet and critic of
+no mean order--remarked [17],
+
+ "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."
+
+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, "_Can these bones live_?" 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?
+
+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 great truth in what Mr. Arnold has lately said
+of Byron:
+
+ "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."
+ [18]
+
+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.
+
+It should also be noted that the fact of Wordsworth's having dictated to
+Miss Fenwick (so late as 1843) a stanza from 'The Convict' in his note
+to 'The Lament of Mary Queen of Scots' (1817), justifies the inclusion
+of the whole of that (suppressed) poem in such an edition as this.
+
+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
+'The Prelude' itself was a posthumous publication; and also that the
+fragmentary canto of 'The Recluse', 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:
+
+ Among all lovely things my Love had been,
+
+and of the sonnet on his 'Voyage down the Rhine', 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.
+
+Among the Poems which Wordsworth suppressed, in his final edition, is
+the Latin translation of 'The Somnambulist' by his son. This will be
+republished, more especially as it was included by Wordsworth himself in
+the second edition of his "Yarrow Revisited."
+
+It may be well to mention the 'repetitions' which are inevitable in this
+edition,
+
+(1) As already explained, those fragments of 'The Recluse'--which were
+issued in all the earlier volumes, and afterwards incorporated in 'The
+Prelude'--are printed as they originally appeared.
+
+(2) Short Notes are extracted from Dorothy Wordsworth's 'Recollections
+of a Tour made in Scotland' (1803), which illustrate the Poems composed
+during that Tour, while the whole text of that Tour will be printed in
+full in subsequent volumes.
+
+(3) Other fragments, including the lines beginning,
+
+ Wisdom and Spirit of the universe,
+
+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.
+
+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. When I have not done
+so, the reason will be obvious; viz. either the structure, or the
+brevity, of the poem. [19]
+
+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 his Chronological Table, Mr. Dowden adopts
+the word "composed"; but, in his edition of the Poems, he has made use
+of the term" written." [20]
+
+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:
+
+ Fresh springs of green boxwood, not six months before.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+William Knight.
+
+
+
+[Footnote 1: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote 2: See 'Memoirs of William Wordsworth', ii. pp. 113, 114.]
+
+
+[Footnote 3: It is however different with the fragments which were
+published in all the editions issued in the poet's lifetime, and
+afterwards in 'The Prelude', such as the lines on "the immortal boy" of
+Windermere. These are printed in their chronological place, and also in
+the posthumous poem.]
+
+
+[Footnote 4: 'Poems of Wordsworth selected and arranged by Matthew
+Arnold'. London: Macmillan and Co.]
+
+
+[Footnote 5: See the 'Life of Sir W. Rowan Hamilton', vol. ii. pp, 132,
+135.]
+
+
+[Footnote 6: See the Preface to the American edition of 1837.]
+
+
+[Footnote 7: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote 8: The collection in the British Museum, and those in all the
+University Libraries of the country, are incomplete.]
+
+
+[Footnote 9: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote 10: 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 'The
+Excursion'--was the quarry where Jeffrey or Gifford might have found
+abundant material for criticism.]
+
+
+[Footnote 11: It is unfortunate that the 'Memoirs' do not tell us to
+what poem the remark applies, or to whom the letter containing it was
+addressed.]
+
+
+[Footnote 12: It is important to note that the printed text in several
+of the editions is occasionally cancelled in the list of 'errata', 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
+'errata' list. In this edition there were two such lists, one of them
+very brief. But the cancelled words in these 'errata' lists, must be
+taken into account, in determining the text of each edition.]
+
+
+[Footnote 13: I. F. note. See vol. i. p. 5.]
+
+
+[Footnote 14: I. F. note. See vol. i. p. 32.]
+
+
+[Footnote 15: Advertisement. See vol. i. p. 78.]
+
+
+[Footnote 16: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote 17: In a letter to the writer in 1882.]
+
+
+[Footnote 18: 'The Poetry of Byron, chosen and arranged by Matthew
+Arnold'. London: Macmillan and Co.]
+
+
+[Footnote 19: It may not be too trivial a fact to mention that
+Wordsworth numbered the lines of his earliest publication, 'An Evening
+Walk, in 1793.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote 20: 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.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+EXTRACT FROM THE CONCLUSION OF A POEM, COMPOSED IN ANTICIPATION OF
+LEAVING SCHOOL
+
+Composed 1786.--Published 1815
+
+This poem was placed by Wordsworth among his "Juvenile Pieces." The
+following note was prefixed to that Series, from 1820 to 1832:
+
+ "Of the Poems in this class, "THE EVENING WALK" and "DESCRIPTIVE
+ SKETCHES" 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."
+
+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.
+
+ "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.'"
+
+In the editions of 1845 and 1849, Wordsworth called his "Juvenile
+Pieces," "Poems written in Youth."--Ed.
+
+ ["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.]
+
+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.
+
+In the "Autobiographical Memoranda," dictated by Wordsworth at Rydal
+Mount in November 1847, he says, " .... 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]
+
+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,
+
+ while, in that shade
+ Loitering, I watched the golden beams of light
+ Flung from the setting sun, as they reposed
+ In silent beauty on the naked ridge
+ Of a high eastern hill--thus flowed my thoughts
+ In a pure stream of words fresh from the heart:
+
+Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Dear native regions, [B] I foretell,
+ From what I feel at this farewell,
+ That, wheresoe'er my steps may [1] tend,
+ And whensoe'er my course shall end,
+
+ If in that hour a single tie [2] 5
+ Survive of local sympathy,
+ My soul will cast the backward view,
+ The longing look alone on you.
+
+ Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest
+ Far in the regions of the west, 10
+ Though to the vale no parting beam
+ Be given, not one memorial gleam, [3]
+ A lingering light he fondly throws [4]
+ On the dear hills [5] where first he rose.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Footnote A: See the 'Memoirs of William Wordsworth', by Christopher
+Wordsworth (1851), vol. i. pp. 10-31.--ED]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Compare the 'Ode, composed in January 1816', stanza
+v.--Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1832.
+
+ ....shall 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ That, when the close of life draws near,
+ And I must quit this earthly sphere,
+ If in that hour a tender tie MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1845.
+
+ Thus, when the Sun, prepared for rest,
+ Hath gained the precincts of the West,
+ Though his departing radiance fail
+ To illuminate the hollow Vale, 1815.
+
+ Thus, from the precincts of the West,
+ The Sun, when sinking down to rest, 1832.
+
+ ... while sinking ... 1836.
+
+ Hath reached the precincts ... MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1815.
+
+ A lingering lustre fondly throws 1832.
+
+The edition of 1845 reverts to the reading of 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1815.
+
+ On the dear mountain-tops ... 1820.
+
+The edition of 1845 returns to the text of 1815.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+WRITTEN IN VERY EARLY YOUTH
+
+
+Composed 1786. [A]--Published 1807 [B]
+
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
+ The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
+ The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
+ Is cropping audibly [1] his later meal: [C]
+ Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal 5
+ O'er vale, and mountain, and the starless sky.
+ Now, in this blank of things, a harmony,
+ Home-felt, and home-created, comes [2] to heal
+ That grief for which the senses still supply
+ Fresh food; for only then, when memory 10
+ Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain
+ Those busy cares that would allay my pain;
+ Oh! leave me to myself, nor let me feel
+ The officious touch that makes me droop again.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Footnote A: The date of the composition of this fragment is quite
+unknown.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: But previously, in 'The Morning Post', Feb. 13, 1802.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: 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.
+
+ Whose stealing pace and lengthened shade we fear,
+ Till torn-up forage in his teeth we hear.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827.
+
+ Is up, and cropping yet ... 1807.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1838.
+
+ ... seems ... 1807.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+AN EVENING WALK
+
+ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY
+
+
+Composed 1787-9. [A]--Published 1793
+
+
+ [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:
+
+ Waving his hat, the shepherd, from the vale,
+ Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,--
+ The dog, loud barking, 'mid the glittering rocks,
+ Hunts, where his master points, the intercepted flocks.
+
+ 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:
+
+ And, fronting the bright west, yon oak entwines
+ Its darkening boughs and leaves, in stronger lines.
+
+ 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. It 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'. [B] 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.]
+
+The title of this poem, as first published in 1793, was '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'.
+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.
+
+ "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."
+
+To this, Wordsworth added, in 1836,
+
+ "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.'"
+
+In May 1794 Wordsworth wrote to his friend Mathews,
+
+ "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 _could_ do
+ something."
+
+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.
+
+ 'General Sketch of the Lakes--Author's regret of his Youth which was
+ passed amongst them--Short description of Noon--Cascade--Noon-tide
+ Retreat--Precipice and sloping Lights--Face of Nature as the Sun
+ declines--Mountain-farm, and the
+ Cock--Slate-quarry--Sunset--Superstition of the Country connected with
+ that moment--Swans--Female Beggar--Twilight-sounds--Western
+ Lights--Spirits--Night--Moonlight--Hope--Night-sounds--Conclusion'.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Far from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
+ Through bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral cove;
+ Where Derwent rests, and listens to the roar
+ That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore; [1]
+ Where peace to Grasmere's lonely island leads, 5
+ To willowy hedge-rows, and to emerald meads;
+ Leads to her bridge, rude church, and cottaged grounds,
+ Her rocky sheepwalks, and her woodland bounds;
+ Where, undisturbed by winds, Winander [C] sleeps [2]
+ 'Mid clustering isles, and holly-sprinkled steeps; 10
+ Where twilight glens endear my Esthwaite's shore,
+ And memory of departed pleasures, more.
+
+ Fair scenes, erewhile, I taught, a happy child,
+ The echoes of your rocks my carols wild:
+ The spirit sought not then, in cherished sadness, 15
+ A cloudy substitute for failing gladness. [3]
+ In youth's keen [4] eye the livelong day was bright,
+ The sun at morning, and the stars at night,
+ Alike, when first the bittern's hollow bill
+ Was heard, or woodcocks [D] roamed the moonlight hill. [5] 20
+
+ In thoughtless gaiety I coursed the plain, [6]
+ And hope itself was all I knew of pain;
+ For then, the inexperienced heart would beat [7]
+ At times, while young Content forsook her seat,
+ And wild Impatience, pointing upward, showed, 25
+ Through passes yet unreached, a brighter road. [8]
+ Alas! the idle tale of man is found
+ Depicted in the dial's moral round;
+ Hope with reflection blends her social rays [9]
+ To gild the total tablet of his days; 30
+ Yet still, the sport of some malignant power,
+ He knows but from its shade the present hour.
+ [10]
+ But why, ungrateful, dwell on idle pain?
+ To show what pleasures yet to me remain, [11]
+ Say, will my Friend, with unreluctant ear, [12] 35
+ The history of a poet's evening hear?
+
+ When, in the south, the wan noon, brooding still,
+ Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill,
+ And shades of deep-embattled clouds were seen, 40
+ Spotting the northern cliffs with lights between;
+ When crowding cattle, checked by rails that make
+ A fence far stretched into the shallow lake,
+ Lashed the cool water with their restless tails,
+ Or from high points of rock looked out for fanning gales;[13] 45
+ When school-boys stretched their length upon the green;
+ And round the broad-spread oak, a glimmering scene,
+ In the rough fern-clad park, the herded deer [14]
+ Shook the still-twinkling tail and glancing ear;
+ When horses in the sunburnt intake [E] stood, 50
+ And vainly eyed below the tempting flood,
+ Or tracked the passenger, in mute distress,
+ With forward neck the closing gate to press--[15]
+ Then, while I wandered where the huddling rill
+ Brightens with water-breaks the hollow ghyll [F] [16] 55
+ As by enchantment, an obscure retreat [17]
+ Opened at once, and stayed my devious feet.
+ While thick above the rill the branches close,
+ In rocky basin its wild waves repose,
+ Inverted shrubs, [G] and moss of gloomy green, 60
+ Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between;
+ And its own twilight softens the whole scene, [H]
+ Save where aloft the subtle sunbeams shine
+ On withered briars that o'er the crags recline; [18]
+ Save where, with sparkling foam, a small cascade, 65
+ Illumines, from within, the leafy shade; [19]
+ Beyond, along the vista of the brook,
+ Where antique roots its bustling course [20] o'erlook,
+ The eye reposes on a secret bridge [J]
+ Half grey, half shagged with ivy to its ridge; 70
+ There, bending o'er the stream, the listless swain
+ Lingers behind his disappearing wain. [21]
+ --Did Sabine grace adorn my living line,
+ Blandusia's praise, wild stream, should yield to thine!
+ Never shall ruthless minister of death 75
+ 'Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath;
+ No goblets shall, for thee, be crowned with flowers,
+ No kid with piteous outcry thrill thy bowers;
+ The mystic shapes that by thy margin rove
+ A more benignant sacrifice approve-- 80
+ A mind, that, in a calm angelic mood
+ Of happy wisdom, meditating good,
+ Beholds, of all from her high powers required,
+ Much done, and much designed, and more desired,--
+ Harmonious thoughts, a soul by truth refined, 85
+ Entire affection for all human kind.
+
+ Dear Brook, [22] farewell! To-morrow's noon again
+ Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain;
+ But now the sun has gained his western road,
+ And eve's mild hour invites my steps abroad. 90
+
+ While, near the midway cliff, the silvered kite
+ In many a whistling circle wheels her flight;
+ Slant watery lights, from parting clouds, apace
+ Travel along the precipice's base;
+ Cheering its naked waste of scattered stone, 95
+ By lichens grey, and scanty moss, o'ergrown;
+ Where scarce the foxglove peeps, or [23] thistle's beard;
+ And restless [24] stone-chat, all day long, is heard.
+
+ How pleasant, as the sun declines, to view [25]
+ The spacious landscape change in form and hue! 100
+ Here, vanish, as in mist, before a flood
+ Of bright obscurity, hill, lawn, and wood;
+ There, objects, by the searching beams betrayed,
+ Come forth, and here retire in purple shade;
+ Even the white stems of birch, the cottage white, 105
+ Soften their glare before the mellow light;
+ The skiffs, at anchor where with umbrage wide
+ Yon chestnuts half the latticed boat-house hide,
+ Shed from their sides, that face the sun's slant beam,
+ Strong flakes of radiance on the tremulous stream: 110
+ Raised by yon travelling flock, a dusty cloud
+ Mounts from the road, and spreads its moving shroud;
+ The shepherd, all involved in wreaths of fire,
+ Now shows a shadowy speck, and now is lost entire.
+
+ Into a gradual calm the breezes [26] sink, [27] 115
+ A blue rim borders all the lake's still brink;
+ There doth the twinkling aspen's foliage sleep,
+ And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deep: [28]
+ And now, on every side, the surface breaks
+ Into blue spots, and slowly lengthening streaks; 120
+ Here, plots of sparkling water tremble bright
+ With thousand thousand twinkling points of light;
+ There, waves that, hardly weltering, die away,
+ Tip their smooth ridges with a softer ray;
+ And now the whole wide lake in deep repose 125
+ Is hushed, and like a burnished mirror glows, [29]
+ Save where, along the shady western marge,
+ Coasts, with industrious oar, the charcoal barge. [30]
+
+ Their panniered train a group of potters goad,
+ Winding from side to side up the steep road; 130
+ The peasant, from yon cliff of fearful edge
+ Shot, down the headlong path darts with his sledge; [31]
+ Bright beams the lonely mountain-horse illume
+ Feeding 'mid purple heath, "green rings," [K] and broom;
+ While the sharp slope the slackened team confounds, 135
+ Downward [L] the ponderous timber-wain resounds;
+ [32] In foamy breaks the rill, with merry song,
+ Dashed o'er [33] the rough rock, lightly leaps along;
+ From lonesome chapel at the mountain's feet,
+ Three humble bells their rustic chime repeat; 140
+ Sounds from the water-side the hammered boat;
+ And 'blasted' quarry thunders, heard remote!
+
+ Even here, amid the sweep of endless woods,
+ Blue pomp of lakes, high cliffs and falling floods,
+ Not undelightful are the simplest charms, 145
+ Found by the grassy [34] door of mountain-farms.
+
+ Sweetly ferocious, [M] round his native walks,
+ Pride of [35] his sister-wives, the monarch stalks;
+ Spur-clad his nervous feet, and firm his tread;
+ A crest of purple tops the warrior's head. [36] 150
+ Bright sparks his black and rolling [37] eye-ball hurls
+ Afar, his tail he closes and unfurls;
+ [38] On tiptoe reared, he strains [39] his clarion throat,
+ Threatened by faintly-answering farms remote:
+ Again with his shrill voice the mountain rings, 155
+ While, flapped with conscious pride, resound his wings! [40]
+
+ Where, mixed with graceful birch, the sombrous pine
+ And yew-tree [41] o'er the silver rocks recline;
+ I love to mark the quarry's moving trains,
+ Dwarf panniered steeds, and men, and numerous wains: 160
+ How busy all [42] the enormous hive within,
+ While Echo dallies with its [43] various din!
+ Some (hear you not their chisels' clinking sound?) [44]
+ Toil, small as pigmies in the gulf profound;
+ Some, dim between the lofty [45] cliffs descried, 165
+ O'erwalk the slender [46] plank from side to side;
+ These, by the pale-blue rocks that ceaseless ring,
+ In airy baskets hanging, work and sing.[47]
+
+ Just where a cloud above the mountain rears [48]
+ An [49] edge all flame, the broadening sun appears; 170
+ A long blue bar its ægis orb divides,
+ And breaks the spreading of its golden tides;
+ And now that orb has touched the purple steep
+ Whose softened image penetrates the deep.[50]
+
+ 'Cross the calm lake's blue shades the cliffs aspire, 175
+ With towers and woods, a "prospect all on fire"; [N]
+ While [51] coves and secret hollows, through a ray
+ Of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray.
+ Each slip of lawn the broken rocks between
+ Shines in the light with more than earthly green: [52] 180
+ Deep yellow beams the scattered stems [53] illume,
+ Far in the level forest's central gloom:
+ Waving his hat, the shepherd, from [54] the vale,
+ Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,--
+ The dog, loud barking, 'mid the glittering rocks, 185
+ Hunts, where his master points, the intercepted flocks. [55]
+ Where oaks o'erhang the road the radiance shoots
+ On tawny earth, wild weeds, and twisted roots;
+ The druid-stones a brightened ring unfold; [56]
+ And all the babbling brooks are liquid gold; 190
+ Sunk to a curve, the day-star lessens still,
+ Gives one bright glance, and drops [57] behind the hill. [P]
+
+ In these secluded vales, if village fame,
+ Confirmed by hoary hairs, belief may claim;
+ When up the hills, as now, retired the light, 195
+ Strange apparitions mocked the shepherd's sight. [58]
+
+ The form appears of one that spurs his steed
+ Midway along the hill with desperate speed; [59]
+ Unhurt pursues his lengthened flight, while all
+ Attend, at every stretch, his headlong fall. 200
+ Anon, appears a brave, a gorgeous show
+ Of horsemen-shadows moving to and fro; [60]
+ At intervals imperial banners stream, [61]
+ And now the van reflects the solar beam; [62]
+ The rear through iron brown betrays a sullen gleam. 205
+ While silent stands the admiring crowd below,
+ Silent the visionary warriors go,
+ Winding in ordered pomp their upward way [Q]
+ Till the last banner of their [63] long array
+ Has disappeared, and every trace is fled 210
+ Of splendour--save the beacon's spiry head
+ Tipt with eve's latest gleam of burning red. [64]
+
+ Now, while the solemn evening shadows sail,
+ On slowly-waving pinions, [65] down the vale;
+ And, fronting the bright west, yon oak entwines 215
+ Its darkening boughs and leaves, in stronger lines; [66]
+ 'Tis pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray [67]
+ Where, winding on along some secret bay, [68]
+ The swan uplifts his chest, and backward flings
+ His neck, a varying arch, between his towering wings: 220
+ The eye that marks the gliding creature sees
+ How graceful, pride can be, and how majestic, ease. [69]
+
+ While tender cares and mild domestic loves
+ With furtive watch pursue her as she moves,
+ The female with a meeker charm succeeds, 225
+ And her brown little-ones around her leads,
+ Nibbling the water lilies as they pass,
+ Or playing wanton with the floating grass.
+ She, in a mother's care, her beauty's pride
+ Forgetting, calls the wearied to her side; [70] 230
+ Alternately they mount her back, and rest
+ Close by her mantling wings' embraces prest. [R]
+
+ Long may they float upon this flood serene;
+ Theirs be these holms untrodden, still, and green,
+ Where leafy shades fence off the blustering gale, 235
+ And breathes in peace the lily of the vale![71]
+ Yon isle, which feels not even the milk-maid's feet,
+ Yet hears her song, "by distance made more sweet," [72] [S]
+ Yon isle conceals their home, their hut-like bower;
+ Green water-rushes overspread the floor; [73] 240
+ Long grass and willows form the woven wall,
+ And swings above the roof the poplar tall.
+ Thence issuing often with unwieldy stalk,
+ They crush with broad black feet their flowery walk; [74]
+ Or, from the neighbouring water, hear at morn [75] 245
+ The hound, the horse's tread, and mellow horn;
+ Involve their serpent-necks in changeful rings,
+ Rolled wantonly between their slippery wings,
+ Or, starting up with noise and rude delight,
+ Force half upon the wave their cumbrous flight. [76] 250
+
+ Fair Swan! by all a mother's joys caressed,
+ Haply some wretch has eyed, and called thee blessed;
+ When with her infants, from some shady seat
+ By the lake's edge, she rose--to face the noontide heat;
+ Or taught their limbs along the dusty road 255
+ A few short steps to totter with their load. [77]
+
+ I see her now, denied to lay her head,
+ On cold blue nights, in hut or straw-built shed,
+ Turn to a silent smile their sleepy cry,
+ By pointing to the gliding moon [78] on high. 260
+
+ --[79] When low-hung clouds each star of summer hide,
+ And fireless are the valleys far and wide,
+ Where the brook brawls along the public [80] road
+ Dark with bat-haunted ashes stretching broad,
+ [81] Oft has she taught them on her lap to lay 265
+ The shining glow-worm; or, in heedless play,
+ Toss it from hand to hand, disquieted;
+ While others, not unseen, are free to shed
+ Green unmolested light upon their mossy bed. [82]
+
+ Oh! when the sleety showers her path assail, 270
+ And like a torrent roars the headstrong gale; [83]
+ No more her breath can thaw their fingers cold,
+ Their frozen arms her neck no more can fold;
+ [84] Weak roof a cowering form two babes to shield,
+ And faint the fire a dying heart can yield! 275
+ Press the sad kiss, fond mother! vainly fears
+ Thy flooded cheek to wet them with its tears;
+ [85] No tears can chill them, and no bosom warms,
+ Thy breast their death-bed, coffined in thine arms!
+
+ Sweet are the sounds that mingle from afar, 280
+ Heard by calm lakes, as peeps the folding star,
+ Where the duck dabbles 'mid the rustling sedge,
+ And feeding pike starts from the water's edge,
+ Or the swan stirs the reeds, his neck and bill
+ Wetting, that drip upon the water still; 285
+ And heron, as resounds the trodden shore,
+ Shoots upward, darting his long neck before.
+ [86]
+ Now, with religious awe, the farewell light
+ Blends with the solemn colouring of night; [87]
+ 'Mid groves of clouds that crest the mountain's brow, 290
+ And round the west's proud lodge their shadows throw,
+ Like Una [T] shining on her gloomy way,
+ The half-seen form of Twilight roams astray;
+ Shedding, through paly loop-holes mild and small,
+ Gleams that upon the lake's still bosom fall; [88] 295
+ [89] Soft o'er the surface creep those lustres pale
+ Tracking the motions of the fitful gale. [90]
+ With restless interchange at once the bright
+ Wins on the shade, the shade upon the light.
+ No favoured eye was e'er allowed to gaze 300
+ On lovelier spectacle in faery days;
+ When gentle Spirits urged a sportive chase,
+ Brushing with lucid wands the water's face;
+ While music, stealing round the glimmering deeps,
+ Charmed the tall circle of the enchanted steeps. 305
+ --The lights are vanished from the watery plains:
+ No wreck of all the pageantry remains.
+ Unheeded night has overcome the vales:
+ On the dark earth the wearied vision fails;
+ The latest lingerer of the forest train, 310
+ The lone black fir, forsakes the faded plain;
+ Last evening sight, the cottage smoke, no more,
+ Lost in the thickened darkness, glimmers hoar;
+ And, towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,
+ Like a black wall, the mountain-steeps appear. [91] 315
+
+ --Now o'er the soothed accordant heart we feel
+ A sympathetic twilight slowly steal,
+ And ever, as we fondly muse, we find
+ The soft gloom deepening on the tranquil mind.
+ Stay! pensive, sadly-pleasing visions, stay! 320
+ Ah no! as fades the vale, they fade away:
+ Yet still the tender, vacant gloom remains;
+ Still the cold cheek its shuddering tear retains.
+
+ The bird, who ceased, with fading light, to thread
+ Silent the hedge or steamy rivulet's bed, [92] 325
+ From his grey re-appearing tower shall soon
+ Salute with gladsome note the rising moon,
+ While with a hoary light she frosts the ground,
+ And pours a deeper blue to Aether's bound;
+ Pleased, as she moves, her pomp of clouds to fold 330
+ In robes of azure, fleecy-white, and gold. [93]
+
+ Above yon eastern hill, [94] where darkness broods
+ O'er all its vanished dells, and lawns, and woods;
+ Where but a mass of shade the sight can trace,
+ Even now she shows, half-veiled, her lovely face: [95] 335
+ Across [96] the gloomy valley flings her light,
+ Far to the western slopes with hamlets white;
+ And gives, where woods the chequered upland strew,
+ To the green corn of summer, autumn's hue.
+
+ Thus Hope, first pouring from her blessed horn 340
+ Her dawn, far lovelier than the moon's own morn,
+ 'Till higher mounted, strives in vain to cheer
+ The weary hills, impervious, blackening near;
+ Yet does she still, undaunted, throw the while
+ On darling spots remote her tempting smile. 345
+
+ Even now she decks for me a distant scene,
+ (For dark and broad the gulf of time between)
+ Gilding that cottage with her fondest ray,
+ (Sole bourn, sole wish, sole object of my way; 350
+ How fair its lawns and sheltering [97] woods appear!
+ How sweet its streamlet murmurs in mine ear!)
+ Where we, my Friend, to happy [98] days shall rise,
+ 'Till our small share of hardly-paining sighs
+ (For sighs will ever trouble human breath) 355
+ Creep hushed into the tranquil breast of death.
+
+ But now the clear bright Moon her zenith gains,
+ And, rimy without speck, extend the plains:
+ The deepest cleft the mountain's front displays [99]
+ Scarce hides a shadow from her searching rays; 360
+ From the dark-blue faint silvery threads divide
+ The hills, while gleams below the azure tide;
+ Time softly treads; throughout the landscape breathes
+ A peace enlivened, not disturbed, by wreaths
+ Of charcoal-smoke, that o'er the fallen wood, 365
+ Steal down the hill, and spread along the flood.[100]
+
+ The song of mountain-streams, unheard by day,
+ Now hardly heard, beguiles my homeward way. [U]
+ Air listens, like the sleeping water, still,
+ To catch the spiritual music of the hill, [101] 370
+ Broke only by the slow clock tolling deep,
+ Or shout that wakes the ferry-man from sleep,
+ The echoed hoof nearing the distant shore,
+ The boat's first motion--made with dashing oar; [102]
+ Sound of closed gate, across the water borne, 375
+ Hurrying the timid [103] hare through rustling corn;
+ The sportive outcry of the mocking owl; [104]
+ And at long intervals the mill-dog's howl;
+ The distant forge's swinging thump profound;
+ Or yell, in the deep woods, of lonely hound. 380
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE ABOVE POEM:
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1836.
+
+ His wizard course where hoary Derwent takes
+ Thro' craggs, and forest glooms, and opening lakes,
+ Staying his silent waves, to hear the roar
+ That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore:
+ Where silver rocks the savage prospect chear
+ Of giant yews that frown on Rydale's mere; 1793.
+
+ Where Derwent stops his course to hear the roar
+ That stuns the tremulous cliffs ... 1827.
+
+(Omitting two lines of the 1793 text quoted above.)]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ Where, bosom'd deep, the shy Winander peeps 1793.
+
+ Where, deep embosom'd, shy Winander peeps 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ Fair scenes! with other eyes, than once, I gaze,
+ The ever-varying charm your round displays,
+ Than when, ere-while, I taught, "a happy child,"
+ The echoes of your rocks my carols wild:
+ Then did no ebb of chearfulness demand
+ Sad tides of joy from Melancholy's hand; 1793.
+
+ Upon the varying charm your round displays, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... wild ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... stars of night,
+ Alike, when first the vales the bittern fills,
+ Or the first woodcocks roam'd the moonlight hills. 1793.
+
+ Alike, when heard the bittern's hollow bill,
+ Or the first woodcocks roam'd the moonlight hill. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1820.
+
+ Return Delights! with whom my road begun,
+ When Life rear'd laughing up her morning sun;
+ When Transport kiss'd away my april tear,
+ "Rocking as in a dream the tedious year";
+ When link'd with thoughtless Mirth I cours'd the plain, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1836.
+
+ For then, ev'n then, the little heart would beat 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1836.
+
+ And wild Impatience, panting upward, show'd
+ Where tipp'd with gold the mountain-summits glow'd. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1836.
+
+ With Hope Reflexion blends her social rays 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1820.
+
+ While, Memory at my side, I wander here,
+ Starts at the simplest sight th' unbidden tear,
+ A form discover'd at the well-known seat,
+ A spot, that angles at the riv'let's feet,
+ The ray the cot of morning trav'ling nigh,
+ And sail that glides the well-known alders by.
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1820.
+
+ To shew her yet some joys to me remain, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... with soft affection's ear, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... with lights between;
+ Gazing the tempting shades to them deny'd,
+ When stood the shorten'd herds amid' the tide,
+ Where, from the barren wall's unshelter'd end,
+ Long rails into the shallow lake extend; 1793.
+
+ When, at the barren wall's unsheltered end,
+ Where long rails far into the lake extend,
+ Crowded the shortened herds, and beat the tides
+ With their quick tails, and lash'd their speckled sides; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1836.
+
+ And round the humming elm, a glimmering scene!
+ In the brown park, in flocks, the troubl'd deer 1793.
+
+ ... in herds, ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1820.
+
+ When horses in the wall-girt intake stood,
+ Unshaded, eying far below, the flood,
+ Crouded behind the swain, in mute distress,
+ With forward neck the closing gate to press;
+ And long, with wistful gaze, his walk survey'd,
+ 'Till dipp'd his pathway in the river shade; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1845.
+
+ --Then Quiet led me up the huddling rill,
+ Bright'ning with water-breaks the sombrous gill; 1793.
+
+ --Then, while I wandered up the huddling rill
+ Brightening with water-breaks the sombrous ghyll, 1820.
+
+ Then, while I wandered where the huddling rill
+ Brightens with water-breaks the sombrous ghyll, 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1820.
+
+ To where, while thick above the branches close,
+ In dark-brown bason its wild waves repose,
+ Inverted shrubs, and moss of darkest green,
+ Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between;
+ Save that, atop, the subtle sunbeams shine,
+ On wither'd briars that o'er the craggs recline;
+ Sole light admitted here, a small cascade,
+ Illumes with sparkling foam the twilight shade.
+ Beyond, along the visto of the brook,
+ Where antique roots its bustling path o'erlook,
+ The eye reposes on a secret bridge
+ Half grey, half shagg'd with ivy to its ridge.
+ --Sweet rill, farewel! ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1845.
+
+ But see aloft the subtle sunbeams shine,
+ On withered briars that o'er the crags recline;
+ Thus beautiful! as if the sight displayed,
+ By its own sparkling foam that small cascade;
+ Inverted shrubs, with moss of gloomy green
+ Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between. C.
+
+ Inverted shrubs with pale wood weeds between
+ Cling from the moss-grown rocks, a darksome green,
+ Save where aloft the subtle sunbeams shine
+ And its own twilight softens the whole scene.
+ And sparkling as it foams a small cascade
+ Illumines from within the impervious shade
+ Below, right in the vista of the brook,
+ Where antique roots, etc. MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1845.
+
+ Sole light admitted here, a small cascade,
+ Illumes with sparkling foam the impervious shade; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... path ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1845.
+
+ Whence hangs, in the cool shade, the listless swain
+ Lingering behind his disappearing wain. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 22:
+
+1845.
+
+ --Sweet rill, ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... and ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 24:
+
+1845.
+
+ And desert ... 1793]
+
+
+[Variant 25:
+
+1820.
+
+ How pleasant, as the yellowing sun declines,
+ And with long rays and shades the landscape shines;
+ To mark the birches' stems all golden light,
+ That lit the dark slant woods with silvery white!
+ The willow's weeping trees, that twinkling hoar,
+ Glanc'd oft upturn'd along the breezy shore,
+ Low bending o'er the colour'd water, fold
+ Their moveless boughs and leaves like threads of gold;
+ The skiffs with naked masts at anchor laid,
+ Before the boat-house peeping thro' the shade;
+ Th' unwearied glance of woodman's echo'd stroke;
+ And curling from the trees the cottage smoke.
+ Their pannier'd train ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 26:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... zephyrs ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 27: This stanza was added in the edition of 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 28:
+
+1845.
+
+This couplet was added in 1845.]
+
+
+[Variant 29:
+
+1845.
+
+ And now the universal tides repose,
+ And, brightly blue, the burnished mirror glows, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 30:
+
+1845.
+
+ The sails are dropped, the poplar's foliage sleeps,
+ And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deeps.
+
+This couplet followed l. 127 from 1820 to 1843.]
+
+
+[Variant 31:
+
+1820
+
+ Shot, down the headlong pathway darts his sledge; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 32:
+
+1820.
+
+ Beside their sheltering [i] cross of wall, the flock
+ Feeds on in light, nor thinks of winter's shock;
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 33:
+
+1820.
+
+ Dashed down ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 34:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... verdant ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 35:
+
+1820.
+
+ Gazed by ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 36:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... his warrior head. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 37:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... haggard ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 38:
+
+1836.
+
+ Whose state, like pine-trees, waving to and fro,
+ Droops, and o'er canopies his regal brow,
+
+This couplet was inserted in the editions 1793 to 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 39:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... blows ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 40: This couplet was first printed in the edition of 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 41:
+
+1836.
+
+ Bright'ning the cliffs between where sombrous pine,
+ And yew-trees ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 42:
+
+1836.
+
+ How busy the enormous hive within, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 43:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... with the ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 44:
+
+1836.
+
+ Some hardly heard their chissel's clinking sound, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 45:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... th' aëreal ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 46:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... viewless ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 47:
+
+1836.
+
+ Glad from their airy baskets hang and sing. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 48:
+
+1836.
+
+ Hung o'er a cloud, above the steep that rears 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 49:
+
+1820.
+
+ It's ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 50:
+
+1845.
+
+ And now it touches on the purple steep
+ That flings his shadow on the pictur'd deep. 1793.
+
+ That flings its image ... 1832.
+
+ And now the sun has touched the purple steep
+ Whose softened image penetrates the deep. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 51:
+
+1836.
+
+ The coves ... 1793]
+
+
+[Variant 52:
+
+1836.
+
+ The gilded turn arrays in richer green
+ Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between; 1793.
+
+ ... invests with richer green 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 53:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... boles ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 54:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... in ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 55:
+
+1836.
+
+ That, barking busy 'mid the glittering rocks,
+ Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 56:
+
+1845.
+
+ The Druid stones [ii] their lighted fane unfold, 1793.
+
+ ... a burnished ring unfold; 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 57:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... sinks ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 58:
+
+1845.
+
+ In these lone vales, if aught of faith may claim,
+ Thin silver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame;
+ When up the hills, as now, retreats the light,
+ Strange apparitions mock the village sight. 1793.
+
+ In these secluded vales, if village fame,
+ Confirmed by silver hairs, belief may claim;
+ When up the hills, as now, retired the light,
+ Strange apparitions mocked the gazer's sight. 1820.
+
+ ... shepherd's sight. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 59:
+
+1836.
+
+ A desperate form appears, that spurs his steed,
+ Along the midway cliffs with violent speed; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 60:
+
+1836.
+
+ Anon, in order mounts a gorgeous show
+ Of horsemen shadows winding to and fro; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 61: This line was added in 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 62:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... is gilt with evening's beam, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 63:
+
+1849.
+
+ ... of the ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 64:
+
+1836.
+
+ Lost gradual o'er the heights in pomp they go,
+ While silent stands th' admiring vale below;
+ Till, but the lonely beacon all is fled,
+ That tips with eve's last gleam his spiry head. 1793.
+
+ Till, save the lonely beacon, ... 1820.
+
+In the edition of 1836 the seven lines of the printed
+text--205-211--replaced these four lines of the editions 1793-1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 65:
+
+1836.
+
+ On red slow-waving pinions ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 66:
+
+1820.
+
+ And, fronting the bright west in stronger lines,
+ The oak its dark'ning boughs and foliage twines, 1793.
+
+The edition of 1815 omitted this couplet. It was restored in its final
+form in the edition of 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 67:
+
+1836.
+
+ I love beside the glowing lake to stray, 1793.
+
+ How pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 68:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... to stray,
+ Where winds the road along the secret bay;
+ By rills that tumble down the woody steeps,
+ And run in transport to the dimpling deeps;
+ Along the "wild meand'ring shore" to view,
+ Obsequious Grace the winding swan pursue. 1793.
+
+ ... a secret bay; 1813.
+
+ ... meandering shore" ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 69:
+
+1836.
+
+ He swells his lifted chest, and backward flings
+ His bridling neck between his tow'ring wings;
+ Stately, and burning in his pride, divides
+ And glorying looks around, the silent tides:
+ On as he floats, the silver'd waters glow,
+ Proud of the varying arch and moveless form of snow. 1793.
+
+ ... his towering wings;
+ In all the majesty of ease divides, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 70:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... her beauty's pride
+ Forgets, unweary'd watching every side,
+ She calls them near, and with affection sweet
+ Alternately relieves their weary feet; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 71:
+
+1836.
+
+ Long may ye roam these hermit waves that sleep,
+ In birch-besprinkl'd cliffs embosom'd deep;
+ These fairy holms untrodden, still, and green,
+ Whose shades protect the hidden wave serene;
+ Whence fragrance scents the water's desart gale,
+ The violet, and the [iii] lily of the vale; 1793.
+
+ Long may ye float upon these floods serene;
+ Yours be these holms untrodden, still, and green,
+ Whose leafy shades fence off the blustering gale,
+ Where breathes in peace the lily of the vale. 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 72:
+
+1820.
+
+ Where, tho' her far-off twilight ditty steal,
+ They not the trip of harmless milkmaid feel. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 73:
+
+1836.
+
+ Yon tuft conceals your home, your cottage bow'r.
+ Fresh water rushes strew the verdant floor; 1793.
+
+ Yon isle conceals ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 74:
+
+1836.
+
+ Thence issuing oft, unwieldly as ye stalk,
+ Ye crush with broad black feet your flow'ry walk; 1793.
+
+ Thence issuing often with unwieldly stalk,
+ With broad black feet ye crush your flow'ry walk; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 75:
+
+1820.
+
+ Safe from your door ye hear at breezy morn, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 76:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... and mellow horn;
+ At peace inverted your lithe necks ye lave,
+ With the green bottom strewing o'er the wave;
+ No ruder sound your desart haunts invades,
+ Than waters dashing wild, or rocking shades.
+ Ye ne'er, like hapless human wanderers, throw
+ Your young on winter's winding sheet of snow. 1793.
+
+ ... and mellow horn;
+ Involve your serpent necks in changeful rings,
+ Rolled wantonly between your slippery wings,
+ Or, starting up with noise and rude delight,
+ Force half upon the wave your cumbrous flight. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 77:
+
+1836.
+
+ Fair Swan! by all a mother's joys caress'd,
+ Haply some wretch has ey'd, and call'd thee bless'd;
+ Who faint, and beat by summer's breathless ray,
+ Hath dragg'd her babes along this weary way;
+ While arrowy fire extorting feverish groans
+ Shot stinging through her stark o'er labour'd bones.
+ --With backward gaze, lock'd joints, and step of pain,
+ Her seat scarce left, she strives, alas! in vain,
+ To teach their limbs along the burning road
+ A few short steps to totter with their load,
+ Shakes her numb arm that slumbers with its weight,
+ And eyes through tears the mountain's shadeless height;
+ And bids her soldier come her woes to share,
+ Asleep on Bunker's [iv] charnel hill afar;
+ For hope's deserted well why wistful look?
+ Chok'd is the pathway, and the pitcher broke. 1793.
+
+In 1793 this passage occupied the place of the six lines of the final
+text (250-255).
+
+
+ ... and called thee bless'd;
+ The whilst upon some sultry summer's day
+ She dragged her babes along this weary way;
+ Or taught their limbs along the burning road
+ A few short steps to totter with their load. 1820.
+
+ The while ... 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 78:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... a shooting star ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 79:
+
+1845.
+
+ I hear, while in the forest depth he sees,
+ The Moon's fix'd gaze between the opening trees,
+ In broken sounds her elder grief demand,
+ And skyward lift, like one that prays, his hand,
+ If, in that country, where he dwells afar,
+ His father views that good, that kindly star;
+ --Ah me! all light is mute amid the gloom,
+ The interlunar cavern of the tomb. 1793-1832.
+
+ In broken sounds her elder child demand,
+ While toward the sky he lifts his pale bright hand, 1836.
+
+ --Alas! all light ... 1836.
+
+Those eight lines were withdrawn in 1845.]
+
+
+[Variant 80:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... painful ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 81:
+
+1820.
+
+ The distant clock forgot, and chilling dew,
+ Pleas'd thro' the dusk their breaking smiles to view,
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 82:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... on her lap to play
+ Delighted, with the glow-worm's harmless ray
+ Toss'd light from hand to hand; while on the ground
+ Small circles of green radiance gleam around. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 83:
+
+1836.
+
+ Oh! when the bitter showers her path assail,
+ And roars between the hills the torrent gale, 1793.
+
+ ... sleety showers ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 84:
+
+1827.
+
+ Scarce heard, their chattering lips her shoulder chill,
+ And her cold back their colder bosoms thrill;
+ All blind she wilders o'er the lightless heath,
+ Led by Fear's cold wet hand, and dogg'd by Death;
+ Death, as she turns her neck the kiss to seek,
+ Breaks off the dreadful kiss with angry shriek.
+ Snatch'd from her shoulder with despairing moan,
+ She clasps them at that dim-seen roofless stone.--
+ "Now ruthless Tempest launch thy deadliest dart!
+ Fall fires--but let us perish heart to heart." 1793.
+
+The first, third, and fourth of these couplets were omitted
+from the edition of 1820. The whole passage was withdrawn in
+1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 85:
+
+1820.
+
+ Soon shall the Light'ning hold before thy head
+ His torch, and shew them slumbering in their bed,
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 86:
+
+1820.
+
+ While, by the scene compos'd, the breast subsides,
+ Nought wakens or disturbs it's tranquil tides;
+ Nought but the char that for the may-fly leaps,
+ And breaks the mirror of the circling deeps;
+ Or clock, that blind against the wanderer born
+ Drops at his feet, and stills his droning horn.
+ --The whistling swain that plods his ringing way
+ Where the slow waggon winds along the bay;
+ The sugh [v] of swallow flocks that twittering sweep,
+ The solemn curfew swinging long and deep;
+ The talking boat that moves with pensive sound,
+ Or drops his anchor down with plunge profound;
+ Of boys that bathe remote the faint uproar,
+ And restless piper wearying out the shore;
+ These all to swell the village murmurs blend,
+ That soften'd from the water-head descend.
+ While in sweet cadence rising small and still
+ The far-off minstrels of the haunted hill,
+ As the last bleating of the fold expires,
+ Tune in the mountain dells their water lyres.
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 87:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... of the night; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 88:
+
+1815.
+
+ Thence, from three paly loopholes mild and small,
+ Slow lights upon the lake's still bosom fall, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 89:
+
+1827.
+
+ Beyond the mountain's giant reach that hides
+ In deep determin'd gloom his subject tides.
+ --Mid the dark steeps repose the shadowy streams,
+ As touch'd with dawning moonlight's hoary gleams,
+ Long streaks of fairy light the wave illume
+ With bordering lines of intervening gloom, 1793.
+
+The second and third of these couplets were cancelled in the edition of
+1815, and the whole passage was withdrawn in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 90:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soft o'er the surface creep the lustres pale
+ Tracking with silvering path the changeful gale. 1793.
+
+ ... those lustres pale
+ Tracking the fitful motions of the gale. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 91:
+
+1815.
+
+ --'Tis restless magic all; at once the bright [vi]
+ Breaks on the shade, the shade upon the light,
+ Fair Spirits are abroad; in sportive chase
+ Brushing with lucid wands the water's face,
+ While music stealing round the glimmering deeps
+ Charms the tall circle of th' enchanted steeps.
+ --As thro' th' astonished woods the notes ascend,
+ The mountain streams their rising song suspend;
+ Below Eve's listening Star, the sheep walk stills
+ It's drowsy tinklings on th' attentive hills;
+ The milkmaid stops her ballad, and her pail
+ Stays it's low murmur in th' unbreathing vale;
+ No night-duck clamours for his wilder'd mate,
+ Aw'd, while below the Genii hold their state.
+ --The pomp is fled, and mute the wondrous strains,
+ No wrack of all the pageant scene remains,
+ [vii] So vanish those fair Shadows, human Joys,
+ But Death alone their vain regret destroys.
+ Unheeded Night has overcome the vales,
+ On the dark earth the baffl'd vision fails,
+ If peep between the clouds a star on high,
+ There turns for glad repose the weary eye;
+ The latest lingerer of the forest train,
+ The lone-black fir, forsakes the faded plain;
+ Last evening sight, the cottage smoke no more,
+ Lost in the deepen'd darkness, glimmers hoar;
+ High towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,
+ Like a black wall, the mountain steeps appear,
+ Thence red from different heights with restless gleam
+ Small cottage lights across the water stream,
+ Nought else of man or life remains behind
+ To call from other worlds the wilder'd mind,
+ Till pours the wakeful bird her solemn strains
+ [viii] Heard by the night-calm of the watry plains.
+ --No purple prospects now the mind employ
+ Glowing in golden sunset tints of joy,
+ But o'er the sooth'd ...
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 92:
+
+1836.
+
+ The bird, with fading light who ceas'd to thread
+ Silent the hedge or steaming rivulet's bed, 1793.
+
+ The bird, who ceased, with fading light, to thread 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 93:
+
+1836.
+
+ Salute with boding note the rising moon,
+ Frosting with hoary light the pearly ground,
+ And pouring deeper blue to Aether's bound;
+ Rejoic'd her solemn pomp of clouds to fold
+ In robes of azure, fleecy white, and gold,
+ While rose and poppy, as the glow-worm fades,
+ Checquer with paler red the thicket shades. 1793.
+
+
+The last two lines occur only in the edition of 1793.
+
+ And pleased her solemn pomp of clouds to fold 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 94:
+
+1836.
+
+ Now o'er the eastern hill, ... 1793.
+
+ See, o'er ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 95:
+
+1836.
+
+ She lifts in silence up her lovely face; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 96:
+
+1836.
+
+ Above ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 97:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... silvery ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 98:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... golden ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 99:
+
+1836.
+
+ The deepest dell the mountain's breast displays, 1793.
+
+ ... the mountain's front ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 100:
+
+1836.
+
+ The scene is waken'd, yet its peace unbroke,
+ By silver'd wreaths of quiet charcoal smoke,
+ That, o'er the ruins of the fallen wood,
+ Steal down the hills, and spread along the flood. 1793.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 101:
+
+1836.
+
+ All air is, as the sleeping water, still,
+ List'ning th' aëreal music of the hill, 1793.
+
+ Air listens, as the sleeping water still,
+ To catch the spiritual music of the hill, 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 102:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soon follow'd by his hollow-parting oar,
+ And echo'd hoof approaching the far shore; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 103:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... the feeding ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 104:
+
+1836.
+
+ The tremulous sob of the complaining owl; 1793.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES ON VARIANTS (Sub-Footnotes)
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: 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.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote ii: 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.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote iii: The lily of the valley is found in great abundance in
+the smaller islands of Winandermere.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote iv: 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.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote v: 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' 'Cottar's Saturday
+Night'.--W. W. 1793.
+
+The line is in stanza ii., l. 1:
+
+ November chill blaws loud, wi' angry sugh.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote vi: This long passage occupies, in the edition of 1793,
+the place of lines 297-314 in the final text given above.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote vii:
+
+ "So break those glittering shadows, human joys"
+
+(YOUNG).--W. W. 1793.
+
+The line occurs 'Night V, The Complaint', l. 1042, or l. 27 from the
+end.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote viii:
+
+ "Charming the night-calm with her powerful song."
+
+A line of one of our older poets.--W. W. 1793.
+
+This line I have been unable to discover, but see Webster and Dekker in
+'Westward Hoe', iv. c.
+
+ "Charms with her excellent voice an awful silence through all this
+ building."
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836
+(p. 1).--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: These lines are only applicable to the middle part of that
+lake.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote E: The word 'intake' is local, and signifies a
+mountain-inclosure.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote F: Gill is also, I believe, a term confined to this country.
+Glen, gill, and dingle, have the same meaning.--W. W. 1793.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Footnote G: Compare Dr. John Brown:
+
+ Not a passing breeze
+ Sigh'd to the grove, which in the midnight air
+ Stood motionless, and in the peaceful floods
+ Inverted hung.
+
+and see note A to page 31.--Ed. [Footnote U of this poem]]
+
+
+[Footnote H: This line was first inserted in the edition of 1845. In the
+following line, the edition of 1793 has
+
+ Save that, atop, the subtle ...
+
+Subsequent editions previous to 1845 have
+
+ Save that aloft ...
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote J: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote K:
+
+ "Vivid rings of green."
+
+Greenwood's Poem on Shooting.--W. W. 1793.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Footnote L:
+
+ "Down the rough slope the pondrous waggon rings."
+
+BEATTIE.--W. W.
+
+1793. See 'The Minstrel', stanza xxxix., l. 4.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote M:
+
+"Dolcemente feroce."
+
+TASSO. In this description of the cock, I remembered a spirited one of
+the same animal in the 'L'Agriculture ou Les Géorgiques Françoises', of
+M. Rossuet.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote N: I am unable to trace this quotation.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote P: From Thomson: see Scott's 'Critical Essays'.--W. W. 1793.
+
+It is difficult to know to what Wordsworth here alludes, but compare
+'The Seasons', "Summer," l. 1467.
+
+ and now a golden curve,
+ Gives one bright glance, then total disappears.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote Q: See a description of an appearance of this kind in Clark's
+'Survey of the Lakes', accompanied with vouchers of its veracity, that
+may amuse the reader.--W. W. 1793.
+
+The passage in Clark's folio volume, 'A Survey of the Lakes', etc.,
+which suggested to Wordsworth the above lines in the 'Evening Walk', 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
+
+ "Southen-fell side, as seen on the 25th of June 1744 by William
+ Lancaster of Blakehills, and a farm servant, David Strichet:
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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."
+
+This interesting optical illusion--which suggests the wonderful island
+in the Atlantic, seen from the isles of Aran near Galway, alluded to in
+the 'Chorographical description of West, or H-Ier-Connaught', 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,
+
+ "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."
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote R: This is a fact of which I have been an eye-witness.--W. W.
+1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote S: The quotation is from Collins' 'The Passions', l. 60.
+Compare 'Personal Talk', l. 26.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote T: Alluding to this passage of Spenser:
+
+ ... Her angel face
+ As the great eye of Heaven shined bright,
+ And made a sunshine in that shady place. W. W. 1793.
+
+This passage is in 'The Fairy Queen', book I. canto iii. stanza 4.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote U: Compare Dr. John Brown:
+
+ But the soft murmur of swift-gushing rills,
+ Forth issuing from the mountain's distant steep
+ (Unheard till now, and now scarce heard), proclaim'd
+ All things at rest.
+
+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 'Journal'. Wordsworth himself quotes the lines given in this
+footnote in the first section of his 'Guide through the District of the
+Lakes'.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+LINES WRITTEN WHILE SAILING IN A BOAT AT EVENING
+
+
+Composed 1789.--Published 1798
+
+
+ [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, 'Remembrance of Collins', formed one piece; but,
+ upon the recommendation of Coleridge, the three last stanzas were
+ separated from the other.--I. F.]
+
+The title of the poem in 1798, when it consisted of five stanzas, was
+'Lines written near Richmond, upon the Thames, at Evening'. When, in the
+edition of 1800, it was divided, the title of the first part was, 'Lines
+written when sailing in a Boat at Evening'; that of the second part was
+'Lines written near Richmond upon the Thames'.
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ How richly glows the water's breast
+ Before us, tinged with evening hues, [1]
+ While, facing thus the crimson west,
+ The boat her silent course [2] pursues!
+ And see how dark the backward stream! 5
+ A little moment past so smiling!
+ And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam,
+ Some other loiterers [3] beguiling.
+
+ Such views the youthful Bard allure;
+ But, heedless of the following gloom, 10
+ He deems their colours shall endure
+ Till peace go with him to the tomb.
+ --And let him nurse his fond deceit,
+ And what if he must die in sorrow!
+ Who would not cherish dreams so sweet, 15
+ Though grief and pain may come to-morrow?
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1815.
+
+ How rich the wave, in front, imprest
+ With evening-twilight's summer hues, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1802.
+
+ ... path ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... loiterer ... 1798.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+REMEMBRANCE OF COLLINS
+
+
+COMPOSED UPON THE THAMES NEAR RICHMOND [A]
+
+
+Composed 1789.--Published 1798
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ Glide gently, thus for ever glide,[B]
+ O Thames! that other bards may see
+ As lovely visions by thy side
+ As now, fair river! come to me.
+ O glide, fair stream! for ever so, 5
+ Thy quiet soul on all bestowing,
+ Till all our minds for ever flow
+ As thy deep waters now are flowing.
+
+ Vain thought!--Yet be as now thou art,
+ That in thy waters may be seen 10
+ The image of a poet's heart,
+ How bright, how solemn, how serene!
+ Such as did once the Poet bless, [1]
+ Who murmuring here a later [C] ditty, [2]
+ Could find no refuge from distress 15
+ But in the milder grief of pity.
+
+ Now let us, as we float along, [3]
+ For _him_ [4] suspend the dashing oar; [D]
+ And pray that never child of song
+ May know that Poet's sorrows more. [5] 20
+ How calm! how still! the only sound,
+ The dripping of the oar suspended!
+ --The evening darkness gathers round
+ By virtue's holiest Powers attended.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1800.
+
+ Such heart did once the poet bless, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ Who, pouring here a _later_ [i] ditty, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1802.
+
+ Remembrance, as we glide along, 1798.
+
+ ... float ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1802.
+
+ For him ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1802.
+
+ May know his freezing sorrows more. 1798.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: The italics only occur in the editions of 1798 and
+1800.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES TO THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: The title in the editions 1802-1815 was 'Remembrance of
+Collins, written upon the Thames near Richmond'.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Compare the 'After-thought' to "The River Duddon. A Series
+of Sonnets":
+
+ Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: Collins's 'Ode on the Death of Thomson', 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: Compare Collins's 'Ode on the Death of Thomson', 'The Scene
+on the Thames near Richmond':
+
+ Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore
+ When Thames in summer wreaths is drest.
+ And oft suspend the dashing oar
+ To bid his gentle spirit rest.
+
+As Mr. Dowden suggests, the _him_ 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.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES TAKEN DURING A PEDESTRIAN TOUR AMONG THE ALPS
+
+
+Composed 1791-2. [A]--Published 1793
+
+
+ TO THE REV. ROBERT JONES, FELLOW OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE
+
+ DEAR SIR, [B]--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 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. [C]
+
+ 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!
+
+ 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.
+
+ 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
+
+ I am, dear Sir,
+ Most sincerely yours,
+ W. WORDSWORTH.
+
+ LONDON, 1793.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+As the original text of the 'Descriptive Sketches' is printed in
+Appendix I. (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.
+
+'Descriptive Sketches' was ranked among the "Juvenile Pieces" from 1815
+onwards: but in 1836 it was put in a class by itself along with the
+'Female Vagrant'. [D]--Ed.
+
+'Happiness (if she had been to be found on earth) among 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; its voluptuous
+Character; Old man and forest-cottage music--River Tusa--Via Mala and
+Grison Gipsy--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 its
+pilgrims--Valley of Chamouny--Mont Blanc--Slavery of Savoy--Influence of
+liberty on cottage-happiness--France--Wish for the Extirpation of
+slavery--Conclusion'.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Were there, below, a spot of holy ground
+ Where from distress a refuge might be found,
+ And solitude prepare the soul for heaven;
+ Sure, nature's God that spot to man had given [1]
+ Where falls the purple morning far and wide 5
+ In flakes of light upon the mountain-side;
+ Where with loud voice the power of water shakes [2]
+ The leafy wood, or sleeps in quiet lakes.
+
+ Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
+ Who at the call of summer quits his home, 10
+ And plods through some wide realm o'er vale and height,
+ Though seeking only holiday delight; [3]
+ At least, not owning to himself an aim
+ To which the sage would give a prouder name. [4]
+ No gains too cheaply earned his fancy cloy, 15
+ Though every passing zephyr whispers joy;
+ Brisk toil, alternating with ready ease,
+ Feeds the clear current of his sympathies. [5]
+ For him sod-seats the cottage-door adorn;
+ And peeps the far-off spire, his evening bourn! 20
+ Dear is the forest frowning o'er his head,
+ And dear the velvet green-sward to his tread: [6]
+ Moves there a cloud o'er mid-day's flaming eye?
+ Upward he looks--"and calls it luxury:" [E]
+ Kind Nature's charities his steps attend; 25
+ In every babbling brook he finds a friend;
+ While [7] chastening thoughts of sweetest use, bestowed
+ By wisdom, moralise his pensive road.
+ Host of his welcome inn, the noon-tide bower,
+ To his spare meal he calls the passing poor; 30
+ He views the sun uplift his golden fire,
+ Or sink, with heart alive like Memnon's lyre; [F]
+ Blesses the moon that comes with kindly ray,
+ To light him shaken by his rugged way. [8]
+ Back from his sight no bashful children steal; 35
+ He sits a brother at the cottage-meal; [9]
+ His humble looks no shy restraint impart;
+ Around him plays at will the virgin heart.
+ While unsuspended wheels the village dance,
+ The maidens eye him with enquiring glance, 40
+ Much wondering by what fit of crazing care,
+ Or desperate love, bewildered, he came there. [10]
+
+ A hope, that prudence could not then approve,
+ That clung to Nature with a truant's love,
+ O'er Gallia's wastes of corn my footsteps led; 45
+ Her files of road-elms, high above my head
+ In long-drawn vista, rustling in the breeze;
+ Or where her pathways straggle as they please
+ By lonely farms and secret villages.
+ But lo! the Alps ascending white in air, [11] 50
+ Toy with the sun and glitter from afar.
+
+ And now, emerging from the forest's gloom,
+ I greet thee, Chartreuse, while I mourn thy doom.
+ Whither is fled that Power whose frown severe
+ Awed sober Reason till she crouched in fear? [12] 55
+ _That_ Silence, once in deathlike fetters bound,
+ Chains that were loosened only by the sound
+ Of holy rites chanted in measured round? [13]
+
+ --The voice of blasphemy the fane alarms,
+ The cloister startles at the gleam of arms. [14] 60
+ The [15] thundering tube the aged angler hears, [G]
+ Bent o'er the groaning flood that sweeps away his tears. [16]
+ Cloud-piercing pine-trees nod their troubled heads, [17]
+ Spires, rocks, and lawns a browner night o'erspreads;
+ Strong terror checks the female peasant's sighs, 65
+ And start the astonished shades at female eyes.
+ From Bruno's forest screams the affrighted jay,
+ And slow the insulted eagle wheels away.
+ A viewless flight of laughing Demons mock
+ The Cross, by angels planted [H] on the aërial rock. [18] 70
+ The "parting Genius" [J] sighs with hollow breath
+ Along the mystic streams of Life and Death.[K]
+ Swelling the outcry dull, that long resounds
+ Portentous through her old woods' trackless bounds,
+ Vallombre, [L] 'mid her falling fanes deplores 75
+ For ever broke, the sabbath of her bowers.
+
+ More pleased, my foot the hidden margin roves
+ Of Como, bosomed deep in chestnut groves.
+ No meadows thrown between, the giddy steeps
+ Tower, bare or sylvan, from the narrow deeps. 80
+ --To towns, whose shades of no rude noise [19] complain,
+ From ringing team apart [20] and grating wain--
+ To flat-roofed towns, that touch the water's bound,
+ Or lurk in woody sunless glens profound,
+ Or, from the bending rocks, obtrusive cling, 85
+ And o'er the whitened wave their shadows fling--
+ The pathway leads, as round the steeps it twines; [21]
+ And Silence loves its purple roof of vines.
+ The loitering traveller [22] hence, at evening, sees
+ From rock-hewn steps the sail between the trees; 90
+ Or marks, 'mid opening cliffs, fair dark-eyed maids
+ Tend the small harvest of their garden glades;
+ Or stops the solemn mountain-shades to view
+ Stretch o'er the pictured mirror broad and blue,
+ And track the yellow lights from steep to steep, 95
+ As up the opposing hills they slowly creep. [23]
+ Aloft, here, half a village shines, arrayed
+ In golden light; [24] half hides itself in shade:
+ While, from amid the darkened roofs, the spire,
+ Restlessly flashing, seems to mount like fire: [25] 100
+ There, all unshaded, blazing forests throw
+ Rich golden verdure on the lake [26] below.
+ Slow glides the sail along the illumined shore,
+ And steals into the shade the lazy oar;
+ Soft bosoms breathe around contagious sighs, 105
+ And amorous music on the water dies.
+
+ How blest, delicious scene! the eye that greets
+ Thy open beauties, or thy lone retreats;
+ Beholds the unwearied sweep of wood that scales
+ Thy cliffs; the endless waters of thy vales; [27] 110
+ Thy lowly cots that sprinkle all the shore, [28]
+ Each with its [29] household boat beside the door;
+ [30] Thy torrents shooting from the clear-blue sky;
+ Thy towns, that cleave, like swallows' nests, on high; [31]
+ That glimmer hoar in eve's last light descried 115
+ Dim from the twilight water's shaggy side,
+ Whence lutes and voices down the enchanted woods
+ Steal, and compose the oar-forgotten floods;
+ [32]--Thy lake, that, streaked or dappled, blue or grey,
+ 'Mid smoking woods gleams hid from morning's ray [33] 120
+ Slow-travelling down the western hills, to' enfold [34]
+ Its green-tinged margin in a blaze of gold;
+ Thy glittering steeples, whence the matin bell
+ Calls forth the woodman from his desert cell,
+ And quickens the blithe sound of oars that pass 125
+ Along the steaming lake, to early mass. [35]
+ But now farewell to each and all--adieu
+ To every charm, and last and chief to you, [36]
+ Ye lovely maidens that in noontide shade
+ Rest near your little plots of wheaten glade; [37] 130
+ To all that binds [38] the soul in powerless trance,
+ Lip-dewing song, and ringlet-tossing dance;
+ Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume
+ The sylvan cabin's lute-enlivened gloom.
+ --Alas! the very murmur of the streams 135
+ Breathes o'er the failing soul voluptuous dreams,
+ While Slavery, forcing the sunk mind to dwell
+ On joys that might disgrace the captive's cell,
+ Her shameless timbrel shakes on Como's marge,
+ And lures [39] from bay to bay the vocal barge. 140
+
+ Yet are thy softer arts with power indued
+ To soothe and cheer the poor man's solitude.
+ By silent cottage-doors, the peasant's home
+ Left vacant for the day, I loved to roam. [40]
+ But once I pierced the mazes of a wood 145
+ In which a cabin undeserted stood; [41]
+ There an old man an olden measure scanned
+ On a rude viol touched with withered hand. [42]
+ As lambs or fawns in April clustering lie [43]
+ Under a hoary oak's thin canopy, 150
+ Stretched at his feet, with stedfast upward eye,
+ His children's children listened to the sound; [44]
+ --A Hermit with his family around!
+
+ But let us hence; for fair Locarno smiles
+ Embowered in walnut slopes and citron isles: 155
+ Or seek at eve the banks of Tusa's stream,
+ Where, [45] 'mid dim towers and woods, her [M] waters gleam.
+ From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire
+ The dull-red steeps, and, darkening still, aspire
+ To where afar rich orange lustres glow 160
+ Round undistinguished clouds, and rocks, and snow:
+ Or, led where Via Mala's chasms confine
+ The indignant waters of the infant Rhine,
+ Hang o'er the abyss, whose else impervious gloom [46]
+ His burning eyes with fearful light illume. 165
+
+ The mind condemned, without reprieve, to go
+ O'er life's long deserts with its charge of woe,
+ With sad congratulation joins the train
+ Where beasts and men together o'er the plain
+ Move on--a mighty caravan of pain: 170
+ Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings,
+ Freshening the wilderness with shades and springs.
+ --There be whose lot far otherwise is cast:
+ Sole human tenant of the piny waste, [47]
+ By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here, 175
+ A nursling babe her only comforter;
+ Lo, where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock,
+ A cowering shape half hid in curling smoke! [48]
+
+ When lightning among clouds and mountain-snows
+ Predominates, and darkness comes and goes, 180
+ And the fierce torrent, at the flashes broad
+ Starts, like a horse, beside the glaring road--
+ She seeks a covert from the battering shower
+ In the roofed bridge [N]; the bridge, in that dread hour,
+ Itself all trembling at the torrent's power. [49] 185
+
+ Nor is she more at ease on some _still_ night,
+ When not a star supplies the comfort of its light;
+ Only the waning moon hangs dull and red
+ Above a melancholy mountain's head,
+ Then sets. In total gloom the Vagrant sighs, 190
+ Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes;
+ Or on her fingers counts the distant clock,
+ Or, to the drowsy crow of midnight cock,
+ Listens, or quakes while from the forest's gulf
+ Howls near and nearer yet the famished wolf. [50] 195
+
+ From the green vale of Urseren smooth and wide
+ Descend we now, the maddened Reuss our guide; [51]
+ By rocks that, shutting out the blessed day,
+ Cling tremblingly to rocks as loose as they;
+ By cells [P] upon whose image, while he prays, 200
+ The kneeling peasant scarcely dares to gaze;
+ By many a votive death-cross [Q] planted near,
+ And watered duly with the pious tear,
+ That faded silent from the upward eye
+ Unmoved with each rude form of peril nigh; [52] 205
+ Fixed on the anchor left by Him who saves
+ Alike in whelming snows, and roaring waves.
+
+ But soon a peopled region on the sight
+ Opens--a little world of calm delight; [53]
+ Where mists, suspended on the expiring gale, 210
+ Spread roof like o'er the deep secluded vale, [54]
+ And beams of evening slipping in between,
+ Gently illuminate a sober scene:--[55]
+ Here, on the brown wood-cottages [R] they sleep, [56]
+ There, over rock or sloping pasture creep. [57] 215
+ On as we journey, in clear view displayed,
+ The still vale lengthens underneath its shade
+ Of low-hung vapour: on the freshened mead
+ The green light sparkles;--the dim bowers recede. [58]
+ While pastoral pipes and streams the landscape lull, 220
+ And bells of passing mules that tinkle dull,
+ In solemn shapes before the admiring eye
+ Dilated hang the misty pines on high,
+ Huge convent domes with pinnacles and towers,
+ And antique castles seen through gleamy [59] showers. 225
+
+ From such romantic dreams, my soul, awake!
+ To sterner pleasure, where, by Uri's lake
+ In Nature's pristine majesty outspread,
+ Winds neither road nor path for foot to tread: [60]
+ The rocks rise naked as a wall, or stretch, 230
+ Far o'er the water, hung with groves of beech; [61]
+ Aerial pines from loftier steeps ascend,
+ Nor stop but where creation seems to end. [62]
+ Yet here and there, if 'mid the savage scene
+ Appears a scanty plot of smiling green, 235
+ Up from the lake a zigzag path will creep
+ To reach a small wood-hut hung boldly on the steep. [63]
+ --Before those thresholds (never can they know [64]
+ The face of traveller passing to and fro,)
+ No peasant leans upon his pole, to tell 240
+ For whom at morning tolled the funeral bell;
+ Their watch-dog ne'er his angry bark foregoes,
+ Touched by the beggar's moan of human woes;
+ The shady porch ne'er offered a cool seat
+ To pilgrims overcome by summer's heat. [65] 245
+ Yet thither the world's business finds its way
+ At times, and tales unsought beguile the day,
+ And _there_ are those fond thoughts which Solitude, [66]
+ However stern, is powerless to exclude. [67]
+ There doth the maiden watch her lover's sail 250
+ Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale;
+ At midnight listens till his parting oar,
+ And its last echo, can be heard no more. [68]
+
+ And what if ospreys, cormorants, herons cry,
+ Amid tempestuous vapours driving by, [69] 255
+ Or hovering over wastes too bleak to rear
+ That common growth of earth, the foodful ear; [70]
+ Where the green apple shrivels on the spray,
+ And pines the unripened pear in summer's kindliest ray; [71]
+ Contentment shares the desolate domain [72] 260
+ With Independence, child of high Disdain.
+ Exulting 'mid the winter of the skies,
+ Shy as the jealous chamois, Freedom flies,
+ And grasps by fits her sword, and often eyes;
+ And sometimes, as from rock to rock she bounds 265
+ The Patriot nymph starts at imagined sounds,
+ And, wildly pausing, oft she hangs aghast,
+ Whether some old Swiss air hath checked her haste
+ Or thrill of Spartan fife is caught between the blast. [73]
+
+ Swoln with incessant rains from hour to hour, [74] 270
+ All day the floods a deepening murmur pour:
+ The sky is veiled, and every cheerful sight:
+ Dark is the region as with coming night;
+ But what a sudden burst of overpowering light!
+ Triumphant on the bosom of the storm, 275
+ Glances the wheeling eagle's glorious form![75]
+ Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine
+ The wood-crowned cliffs that o'er the lake recline;
+ Those lofty cliffs a hundred streams unfold, [76]
+ At once to pillars turned that flame with gold: 280
+ Behind his sail the peasant shrinks, to shun
+ The _west_, [77] that burns like one dilated sun,
+ A crucible of mighty compass, felt
+ By mountains, glowing till they seem to melt. [78]
+
+ But, lo! the boatman, overawed, before 285
+ The pictured fane of Tell suspends his oar;
+ Confused the Marathonian tale appears,
+ While his eyes sparkle with heroic tears. [79]
+ And who, that walks where men of ancient days
+ Have wrought with godlike arm the deeds of praise, 290
+ Feels not the spirit of the place control,
+ Or rouse [80] and agitate his labouring soul?
+ Say, who, by thinking on Canadian hills,
+ Or wild Aosta lulled by Alpine rills,
+ On Zutphen's plain; or on that highland dell, 295
+ Through which rough Garry cleaves his way, can tell
+ What high resolves exalt the tenderest thought
+ Of him whom passion rivets to the spot, [81]
+ Where breathed the gale that caught Wolfe's happiest sigh,
+ And the last sunbeam fell on Bayard's eye; 300
+ Where bleeding Sidney from the cup retired,
+ And glad Dundee in "faint huzzas" [S] expired?
+
+ But now with other mind I stand alone
+ Upon the summit of this naked cone,
+ And watch the fearless chamois-hunter chase 305
+ His prey, through tracts abrupt of desolate space, [82]
+ [T] Through vacant worlds where Nature never gave
+ A brook to murmur or a bough to wave,
+ Which unsubstantial Phantoms sacred keep;
+ Thro' worlds where Life, and Voice, and Motion sleep; 310
+ Where silent Hours their death-like sway extend,
+ Save when the avalanche breaks loose, to rend
+ Its way with uproar, till the ruin, drowned
+ In some dense wood or gulf of snow profound,
+ Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound. [83] 315
+ --'Tis his, while wandering on from height to height,
+ To see a planet's pomp and steady light
+ In the least star of scarce-appearing night;
+ While the pale moon moves near him, on the bound
+ Of ether, shining with diminished round, [84] 320
+ And far and wide the icy summits blaze,
+ Rejoicing in the glory of her rays:
+ To him the day-star glitters small and bright,
+ Shorn of its beams, insufferably white,
+ And he can look beyond the sun, and view 325
+ Those fast-receding depths of sable blue
+ Flying till vision can no more pursue! [85]
+ --At once bewildering mists around him close,
+ And cold and hunger are his least of woes;
+ The Demon of the snow, with angry roar 330
+ Descending, shuts for aye his prison door.
+ Soon with despair's whole weight his spirits sink;
+ Bread has he none, the snow must be his drink;
+ And, ere his eyes can close upon the day, [86]
+ The eagle of the Alps o'ershades her prey. 335
+
+ Now couch thyself where, heard with fear afar, [87]
+ Thunders through echoing pines the headlong Aar;
+ Or rather stay to taste the mild delights
+ Of pensive Underwalden's [U] pastoral heights.
+ --Is there who 'mid these awful wilds has seen 340
+ The native Genii walk the mountain green?
+ Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal,
+ Soft music o'er [88] the aërial summit steal?
+ While o'er the desert, answering every close,
+ Rich steam of sweetest perfume comes and goes. 345
+ --And sure there is a secret Power that reigns
+ Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes,
+ Nought but the _chalets_, [V] flat and bare, on high
+ Suspended 'mid the quiet of the sky;
+ Or distant herds that pasturing upward creep, 350
+ And, not untended, climb the dangerous steep. [89]
+ How still! no irreligious sound or sight
+ Rouses the soul from her severe delight.
+ An idle voice the sabbath region fills
+ Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills, 355
+ And with that voice accords the soothing sound [90]
+ Of drowsy bells, for ever tinkling round;
+ Faint wail of eagle melting into blue
+ Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods' steady _sugh_; [W]
+ The solitary heifer's deepened low; 360
+ Or rumbling, heard remote, of falling snow.
+ All motions, sounds, and voices, far and nigh,
+ Blend in a music of tranquillity; [91]
+ Save when, a stranger seen below [92] the boy
+ Shouts from the echoing hills with savage joy. 365
+
+ When, from the sunny breast of open seas,
+ And bays with myrtle fringed, the southern breeze
+ Comes on to gladden April with the sight
+ Of green isles widening on each snow-clad height; [93]
+ When shouts and lowing herds the valley fill, 370
+ And louder torrents stun the noon-tide hill,
+ [94] The pastoral Swiss begin the cliffs to scale,
+ Leaving to silence the deserted vale; [95]
+ And like the Patriarchs in their simple age
+ Move, as the verdure leads, from stage to stage; [96] 375
+ High and more high in summer's heat they go, [97]
+ And hear the rattling thunder far below;
+ Or steal beneath the mountains, half-deterred,
+ Where huge rocks tremble to the bellowing herd. [98]
+
+ One I behold who, 'cross the foaming flood, 380
+ Leaps with a bound of graceful hardihood;
+ Another high on that green ledge;--he gained
+ The tempting spot with every sinew strained; [99]
+ And downward thence a knot of grass he throws,
+ Food for his beasts in time of winter snows. [100] 385
+ --Far different life from what Tradition hoar
+ Transmits of happier lot in times of yore! [101]
+ Then Summer lingered long; and honey flowed
+ From out the rocks, the wild bees' safe abode: [102]
+ Continual waters [103] welling cheered the waste, 390
+ And plants were wholesome, now of deadly taste:
+ Nor Winter yet his frozen stores had piled,
+ Usurping where the fairest herbage smiled:
+ Nor Hunger driven the herds from pastures bare,
+ To climb the treacherous cliffs for scanty fare. [104] 395
+ Then the milk-thistle flourished through the land,
+ And forced the full-swoln udder to demand,
+ Thrice every day, the pail and welcome hand. [105]
+ Thus does the father to his children tell
+ Of banished bliss, by fancy loved too well. [106] 400
+ Alas! that human guilt provoked the rod [107]
+ Of angry Nature to avenge her God.
+ Still, Nature, ever just, to him imparts
+ Joys only given to uncorrupted hearts.
+
+ 'Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows; 405
+ More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose.
+ Far-stretched beneath the many-tinted hills,
+ A mighty waste of mist the valley fills,
+ A solemn sea! whose billows wide around [108]
+ Stand motionless, to awful silence bound: 410
+ Pines, on the coast, through mist their tops uprear,
+ That like to leaning masts of stranded ships appear.
+ A single chasm, a gulf of gloomy blue,
+ Gapes in the centre of the sea--and through
+ That dark mysterious gulf ascending, sound 415
+ Innumerable streams with roar profound. [109]
+ Mount through the nearer vapours notes of birds,
+ And merry flageolet; the low of herds,
+ The bark of dogs, the heifer's tinkling bell,
+ Talk, laughter, and perchance a church-tower knell: [110] 420
+ Think not, the peasant from aloft has gazed
+ And heard with heart unmoved, with soul unraised: [111]
+ Nor is his spirit less enrapt, nor less
+ Alive to independent happiness, [112]
+ Then, when he lies, out-stretched, at even-tide 425
+ Upon the fragrant mountain's purple side: [113]
+ For as the pleasures of his simple day
+ Beyond his native valley seldom stray,
+ Nought round its darling precincts can he find
+ But brings some past enjoyment to his mind; 430
+ While Hope, reclining upon Pleasure's urn, [114]
+ Binds her wild wreaths, and whispers his return.
+
+ Once, Man entirely free, alone and wild,
+ Was blest as free--for he was Nature's child.
+ He, all superior but his God disdained, 435
+ Walked none restraining, and by none restrained:
+ Confessed no law but what his reason taught,
+ Did all he wished, and wished but what he ought.
+ As man in his primeval dower arrayed
+ The image of his glorious Sire displayed, 440
+ Even so, by faithful [115] Nature guarded, here
+ The traces of primeval Man appear;
+ The simple [116] dignity no forms debase;
+ The eye sublime, and surly lion-grace:
+ The slave of none, of beasts alone the lord, 445
+ His book he prizes, nor neglects his sword; [117]
+ --Well taught by that to feel his rights, prepared
+ With this "the blessings he enjoys to guard." [X]
+
+ And, as his native hills encircle ground
+ For many a marvellous [118] victory renowned, 450
+ The work of Freedom daring to oppose,
+ With few in arms, [Y] innumerable foes,
+ When to those famous [119] fields his steps are led,
+ An unknown power connects him with the dead:
+ For images of other worlds are there; 455
+ Awful the light, and holy is the air.
+ Fitfully, and in flashes, through his soul,
+ Like sun-lit tempests, troubled transports roll;
+ His bosom heaves, his Spirit towers amain, [120]
+ Beyond the senses and their little reign. 460
+
+ And oft, when that dread vision hath past by, [121]
+ He holds with God himself communion high,
+ There where the peal [122] of swelling torrents fills
+ The sky-roofed temple of the eternal hills;
+ Or, when upon the mountain's silent brow 465
+ Reclined, he sees, above him and below,
+ Bright stars of ice and azure fields of snow;
+ While needle peaks of granite shooting bare
+ Tremble in ever-varying tints of air.
+ And when a gathering weight of shadows brown 470
+ Falls on the valleys as the sun goes down;
+ And Pikes, of darkness named and fear and storms, [Z]
+ Uplift in quiet their illumined forms, [123]
+ In sea-like reach of prospect round him spread,
+ Tinged like an angel's smile all rosy red-- 475
+ Awe in his breast with holiest love unites,
+ And the near heavens impart their own delights. [124]
+
+ When downward to his winter hut he goes,
+ Dear and more dear the lessening circle grows;
+ That hut which on the hills so oft employs 480
+ His thoughts, the central point of all his joys. [125]
+ And as a swallow, at the hour of rest,
+ Peeps often ere she darts into her nest,
+ So to the homestead, where the grandsire tends
+ A little prattling child, he oft descends, 485
+ To glance a look upon the well-matched pair; [126]
+ Till storm and driving ice blockade him there.
+ There, [127] safely guarded by the woods behind,
+ He hears the chiding of the baffled wind,
+ Hears Winter calling all his terrors round, 490
+ And, blest within himself, he shrinks not from the sound. [128]
+
+ Through Nature's vale his homely pleasures glide,
+ Unstained by envy, discontent, and pride;
+ The bound of all his vanity, to deck,
+ With one bright bell, a favourite heifer's neck; 495
+ Well pleased [129] upon some simple annual feast,
+ Remembered half the year and hoped the rest,
+ If dairy-produce, from his inner hoard,
+ Of thrice ten summers dignify [130] the board.
+ --Alas! in every clime a flying ray 500
+ Is all we have to cheer our wintry way;
+ [131]
+ And here the unwilling mind [132] may more than trace
+ The general sorrows of the human race:
+ The churlish gales of penury, that blow
+ Cold as the north-wind o'er a waste of snow, [133] 505
+ To them [134] the gentle groups of bliss deny
+ That on the noon-day bank of leisure lie.
+ Yet more;--compelled by Powers which only deign
+ That _solitary_ man disturb their reign,
+ Powers that support an unremitting [135] strife 510
+ With all the tender charities of life,
+ Full oft the father, when his sons have grown
+ To manhood, seems their title to disown; [136]
+ And from his nest [137] amid the storms of heaven
+ Drives, eagle-like, those sons as he was driven; 515
+ With stern composure [138] watches to the plain--
+ And never, eagle-like, beholds again!
+
+ When long familiar joys are all resigned,
+ Why does their sad remembrance haunt the mind? [139]
+ Lo! where through flat Batavia's willowy groves, 520
+ Or by the lazy Seine, the exile roves;
+ O'er the curled waters Alpine measures swell,
+ And search the affections to their inmost cell;
+ Sweet poison spreads along the listener's veins,
+ Turning past pleasures into mortal pains; [140] 525
+ Poison, which not a frame of steel can brave,
+ Bows his young head with sorrow to the grave. [Aa]
+
+ Gay lark of hope, thy silent song resume!
+ Ye flattering eastern lights, once more the hills illume! [141]
+ Fresh [142] gales and dews of life's delicious morn, 530
+ And thou, lost fragrance of the heart, return!
+ Alas! the little joy to man allowed,
+ Fades like the lustre of an evening cloud; [143]
+ Or like the beauty in a flower installed,
+ Whose season was, and cannot be recalled. 535
+ Yet, when opprest by sickness, grief, or care,
+ And taught that pain is pleasure's natural heir,
+ We still confide in more than we can know;
+ Death would be else the favourite friend of woe. [144]
+
+ 'Mid savage rocks, and seas of snow that shine, 540
+ Between interminable tracts of pine,
+ Within a temple stands an awful shrine, [145]
+ By an uncertain light revealed, that falls
+ On the mute Image and the troubled walls.
+ Oh! give not me that eye of hard disdain 545
+ That views, undimmed, Ensiedlen's [Bb] wretched fane.
+ While ghastly faces through the gloom appear, [146]
+ Abortive joy, and hope that works in fear; [147]
+ While prayer contends with silenced agony, [148]
+ Surely in other thoughts contempt may die. 550
+ If the sad grave of human ignorance bear
+ One flower of hope--oh, pass and leave it there! [Cc]
+
+ The tall sun, pausing [149] on an Alpine spire,
+ Flings o'er the wilderness a stream of fire:
+ Now meet we other pilgrims ere the day [150] 555
+ Close on the remnant of their weary way;
+ While they are drawing toward the sacred floor
+ Where, so they fondly think, the worm shall gnaw no more. [151]
+ How gaily murmur and how sweetly taste
+ The fountains [Dd] reared for them [152] amid the waste! 560
+ Their thirst they slake:--they wash their toil-worn feet,
+ And some with tears of joy each other greet. [153]
+ Yes, I must [154] see you when ye first behold
+ Those holy turrets tipped with evening gold,
+ In that glad moment will for you a sigh 565
+ Be heaved, of charitable sympathy; [155]
+ In that glad moment when your [156] hands are prest
+ In mute devotion on the thankful breast!
+
+ Last, let us turn to Chamouny that shields [157]
+ With rocks and gloomy woods [158] her fertile fields: 570
+ Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,
+ And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend;--[Ee]
+ A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns
+ Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains;
+ Here all the seasons revel hand in hand: 575
+ 'Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned [159]
+ [160] They sport beneath that mountain's matchless height [161]
+ That holds no commerce with the summer night. [Ee]
+ From age to age, throughout [162] his lonely bounds
+ The crash of ruin fitfully resounds; 580
+ Appalling [163] havoc! but serene his brow,
+ Where daylight lingers on [164] perpetual snow;
+ Glitter the stars, and all is black below. [Ee]
+
+ What marvel then if many a Wanderer sigh,
+ While roars the sullen Arve in anger by, [165] 585
+ That not for thy reward, unrivall'd [166] Vale! [Ff]
+ Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale;
+ That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed to pine
+ And droop, while no Italian arts are thine,
+ To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine. [167] 590
+
+ Hail Freedom! whether it was mine to stray,
+ With shrill winds whistling round my lonely way, [168]
+ On [169] the bleak sides of Cumbria's heath-clad moors,
+ Or where dank sea-weed lashes Scotland's shores;
+ To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose, 595
+ And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;
+ Still have I found, where Tyranny prevails,
+ That virtue languishes and pleasure fails, [170]
+ While the remotest hamlets blessings share
+ In thy loved [171] presence known, and only there; 600
+ _Heart_-blessings--outward treasures too which the eye
+ Of the sun peeping through the clouds can spy,
+ And every passing breeze will testify. [172]
+ There, to the porch, belike with jasmine bound
+ Or woodbine wreaths, a smoother path is wound; [173] 605
+ The housewife there a brighter garden sees,
+ Where hum on busier wing her happy bees; [174]
+ On infant cheeks there fresher roses blow;
+ And grey-haired men look up with livelier brow,--[175]
+ To greet the traveller needing food and rest; 610
+ Housed for the night, or but a half-hour's guest. [176]
+
+ And oh, fair France! though now the traveller sees
+ Thy three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze;[177]
+ Though martial songs have banished songs of love,
+ And nightingales desert the village grove, [178] 615
+ Scared by the fife and rumbling drum's alarms,
+ And the short thunder, and the flash of arms;
+ That cease not till night falls, when far and nigh,
+ Sole sound, the Sourd [Gg] prolongs his mournful cry! [179]
+ --Yet, hast thou found that Freedom spreads her power 620
+ Beyond the cottage-hearth, the cottage-door:
+ All nature smiles, and owns beneath her eyes
+ Her fields peculiar, and peculiar skies.
+ Yes, as I roamed where Loiret's waters glide
+ Through rustling aspens heard from side to side, 625
+ When from October clouds a milder light
+ Fell where the blue flood rippled into white;
+ Methought from every cot the watchful bird
+ Crowed with ear-piercing power till then unheard;
+ Each clacking mill, that broke the murmuring streams, 630
+ Rocked the charmed thought in more delightful dreams;
+ Chasing those pleasant dreams, [180] the falling leaf
+ Awoke a fainter sense [181] of moral grief;
+ The measured echo of the distant flail
+ Wound in more welcome cadence down the vale; 635
+ With more majestic course the water rolled,
+ And ripening foliage shone with richer gold. [182]
+ --But foes are gathering--Liberty must raise
+ Red on the hills her beacon's far-seen blaze;
+ Must bid the tocsin ring from tower to tower!-- 640
+ Nearer and nearer comes the trying hour! [183]
+ Rejoice, brave Land, though pride's perverted ire
+ Rouse hell's own aid, and wrap thy fields in fire:
+ Lo, from the flames a great and glorious birth;
+ As if a new-made heaven were hailing a new earth! [184] 645
+ --All cannot be: the promise is too fair
+ For creatures doomed to breathe terrestrial air:
+ Yet not for this will sober reason frown
+ Upon that promise, not the hope disown;
+ She knows that only from high aims ensue 650
+ Rich guerdons, and to them alone are due. [185]
+
+ Great God! by whom the strifes of men are weighed
+ In an impartial balance, give thine aid
+ To the just cause; and, oh! do thou preside
+ Over the mighty stream now spreading wide: [Hh] 655
+ So shall its waters, from the heavens supplied
+ In copious showers, from earth by wholesome springs,
+ Brood o'er the long-parched lands with Nile-like wings!
+ And grant that every sceptred child of clay
+ Who cries presumptuous, "Here the flood shall stay," [186] 660
+ May in its progress see thy guiding hand,
+ And cease the acknowledged purpose to withstand; [187]
+ Or, swept in anger from the insulted shore,
+ Sink with his servile bands, to rise no more! [188]
+
+ To-night, my Friend, within this humble cot 665
+ Be scorn and fear and hope alike forgot [189]
+ In timely sleep; and when, at break of day,
+ On the tall peaks the glistening sunbeams play, [190]
+ With a light heart our course we may renew,
+ The first whose footsteps print the mountain dew. [191] 670
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... a spot of holy ground,
+ By Pain and her sad family unfound,
+ Sure, Nature's God that spot to man had given,
+ Where murmuring rivers join the song of even;
+ Where falls ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ Where the resounding power of water shakes 1820.
+
+ Where with loud voice the power of waters shakes 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ And not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
+ Who, to converse with Nature, quits his home,
+ And plods o'er hills and vales his way forlorn,
+ Wooing her various charms from eve to morn. 1820.
+
+ Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
+ Who at the call of summer quits his home,
+ And plods through some far realm o'er vale and height,
+ Though seeking only holiday delight; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 4: Lines 13 and 14 were introduced in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1827.
+
+ No sad vacuities [i] his heart annoy;--
+ Blows not a Zephyr but it whispers joy;
+ For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale;
+ He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale;
+ For him sod-seats ... 1815.
+
+ Breathes not a zephyr but it whispers joy;
+ For him the loneliest flowers their sweets exhale;
+ He marks "the meanest note that swells the [ii] gale;" 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1820.
+
+ And dear the green-sward to his velvet tread; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1815.
+
+ Whilst ... Only in 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... with kindest ray
+ To light him shaken by his viewless way. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1836.
+
+ With bashful fear no cottage children steal
+ From him, a brother at the cottage meal, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1845.
+
+ Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing Care,
+ Or desperate Love could lead a wanderer there. 1815.
+
+ Much wondering in what fit of crazing care,
+ Or desperate love, a wanderer came there. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1836.
+
+ Me, lured by hope her sorrows to remove,
+ A heart that could not much itself approve,
+ O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led,
+ Her road elms rustling high above my head,
+ Or through her truant pathways' native charms,
+ By secret villages and lonely farms,
+ To where the Alps ... 1820.
+
+ ... could not much herself approve, 1827.
+
+ ... lured by hope its sorrows to remove, 1832.
+
+The lines 46, 47, were expanded in the edition of 1836 from one line in
+the editions of 1820-1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1836.
+
+ I sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.
+ Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe
+ Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear?
+ That breathed a death-like peace these woods around;
+ The cloister startles ... 1815.
+
+ Even now, emerging from the forest's gloom,
+ I heave a sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.
+ Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe
+ Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear? 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1836.
+
+ That breathed a death-like silence wide around,
+ Broke only by the unvaried torrent's sound,
+ Or prayer-bell by the dull cicada drown'd. 1820.
+
+The editions of 1827 and 1832 omit these lines.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1836.
+
+ The cloister startles at the gleam of arms,
+ And Blasphemy the shuddering fane alarms; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1793.
+
+ That ... 1827.
+
+The edition of 1836 returns to the text of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1836.
+
+ And swells the groaning torrent with his tears. 1815.
+
+In the editions 1815-1832 lines 61, 62 followed line 66.]
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1836.
+
+ Nod the cloud-piercing pines their troubled heads, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1836.
+
+ The cross with hideous laughter Demons mock,
+ By angels planted on the aereal rock. 1815.
+
+ The cross, by angels on the aërial rock
+ Planted, a flight of laughing demons mock. 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... sound ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1836.
+
+ To ringing team unknown ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1827.
+
+ Wild round the steeps the little pathway twines, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 22:
+
+1836.
+
+ The viewless lingerer ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1845.
+
+ Tracking the yellow sun from steep to steep,
+ As up the opposing hills, with tortoise foot, they creep. 1815.
+
+ And track the yellow light ... 1836.
+
+ ... on naked steeps
+ As up the opposing hill it slowly creeps. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 24:
+
+1845.
+
+ Here half a village shines, in gold arrayed,
+ Bright as the moon; ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 25:
+
+1827.
+
+ From the dark sylvan roofs the restless spire
+ Inconstant glancing, mounts like springing fire. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 26:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... the waves ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 27:
+
+1836.
+
+ Th' unwearied sweep of wood thy cliffs that scales;
+ The never-ending waters of thy vales; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 28:
+
+1836.
+
+Line 111 was previously three lines, thus--
+
+ The cots, those dim religious groves embower,
+ Or, under rocks that from the water tower
+ Insinuated, sprinkling all the shore, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 29:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... his ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 30:
+
+1836.
+
+ Whose flaccid sails in forms fantastic droop,
+ Bright'ning the gloom where thick the forests stoop;
+
+Only in the editions 1815 to 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 31:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... like swallows' nests that cleave on high; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 32:
+
+1827.
+
+ While Evening's solemn bird melodious weeps,
+ Heard, by star-spotted bays, beneath the steeps;
+
+Only in the editions of 1815 and 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 33:
+
+1836.
+
+ --Thy lake, mid smoking woods, that blue and grey
+ Gleams, streaked or dappled, hid from morning's ray 1815.
+
+ As beautiful the flood where blue or grey
+ Dappled, or streaked, as hid from morning's ray. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 34:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... to fold 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 35:
+
+1836.
+
+ From thickly-glittering spires the matin bell
+ Calling the woodman from his desert cell,
+ A summons to the sound of oars, that pass,
+ Spotting the steaming deeps, to early mass;
+ Slow swells the service o'er the water born,
+ While fill each pause the ringing woods of morn. 1815.
+
+ Calls forth the woodman with its cheerful knell. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 36: This couplet was first added in 1845.]
+
+
+[Variant 37:
+
+1845.
+
+ Farewell those forms that in thy noon-tide shade,
+ Rest, near their little plots of wheaten glade; 1820.
+
+ Ye lovely forms that in the noontide shade
+ Rest near their little plots of wheaten glade. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 38:
+
+1845.
+
+ Those charms that bind ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 39:
+
+1836.
+
+ And winds, ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 40:
+
+1836.
+
+ Yet arts are thine that soothe the unquiet heart,
+ And smiles to Solitude and Want impart.
+ I lov'd, 'mid thy most desart woods astray,
+ With pensive step to measure my slow way,
+ By lonely, silent cottage-doors to roam,
+ The far-off peasant's day-deserted home. 1820.
+
+ I loved by silent cottage-doors to roam,
+ The far-off peasant's day-deserted home; 1827.
+
+These two lines take the place of the second and third couplets of the
+1820 text quoted above.]
+
+
+[Variant 41:
+
+1836.
+
+ Once did I pierce to where a cabin stood;
+ The red-breast peace had buried it in wood, 1820.
+
+ And once I pierced the mazes of a wood,
+ Where, far from public haunt, a cabin stood; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 42:
+
+1836.
+
+ There, by the door a hoary-headed Sire
+ Touched with his withered hand an ancient lyre; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 43:
+
+1836.
+
+This and the following line were expanded from
+
+ Beneath an old-grey oak, as violets lie, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 44:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... joined the holy sound; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 45:
+
+1836.
+
+ While ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 46:
+
+1845.
+
+ Bend o'er th' abyss, the else impervious gloom 1820.
+
+ Hang o'er th' abyss:--... 1827.
+
+ ... the abyss:--... 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 47:
+
+1836.
+
+ Freshening the waste of sand with shades and springs.
+ --_She_, solitary, through the desart drear
+ Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear. 1820.
+
+ By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here,
+ Companionless, or hand in hand with fear;
+ Lo! where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock,
+ A cowering shape half-seen through curling smoke. MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 48:
+
+1836.
+
+ The Grison gypsey here her tent hath placed,
+ Sole human tenant of the piny waste;
+ Her tawny skin, dark eyes, and glossy locks,
+ Bend o'er the smoke that curls beneath the rocks.[iii] 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 49:
+
+1845.
+
+Lines 179-185 were substituted in 1845 for
+
+ A giant moan along the forest swells
+ Protracted, and the twilight storm foretels,
+ And, ruining from the cliffs, their deafening load
+ Tumbles,--the wildering Thunder slips abroad;
+ On the high summits Darkness comes and goes,
+ Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows;
+ The torrent, traversed by the lustre broad,
+ Starts like a horse beside the flashing road;
+ In the roofed bridge, at that terrific hour,
+ She seeks a shelter from the battering show'r.
+ --Fierce comes the river down; the crashing wood
+ Gives way, and half it's pines torment the flood;
+ [iv] Fearful, beneath, the Water-spirits call,
+ And the bridge vibrates, tottering to its fall. 1820.
+
+ When rueful moans along the forest swell
+ Protracted, and the twilight storm foretel,
+ And, headlong from the cliffs, a deafening load
+ Tumbles,--and wildering thunder slips abroad;
+ When on the summits Darkness comes and goes,
+ Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows;
+ And the fierce torrent, from the lustre broad,
+ Starts, like a horse beside the flashing road--
+ She seeks a covert from the battering shower
+ In the roofed bridge; the bridge, in that dread hour,
+ Itself all quaking at the torrent's power. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 50:
+
+1845.
+
+Lines 186-195 were substituted in 1845 for
+
+ --Heavy, and dull, and cloudy is the night;
+ No star supplies the comfort of it's light,
+ Glimmer the dim-lit Alps, dilated, round,
+ And one sole light shifts in the vale profound; [s1]
+ While, [s2] opposite, the waning moon hangs still,
+ And red, above her [s3] melancholy hill.
+ By the deep quiet gloom appalled, she sighs, [s4]
+ Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes.
+ She hears, upon the mountain forest's brow,
+ The death-dog, howling loud and long, below;
+ --Breaking th' ascending roar of desert floods,
+ And insect buzz, that stuns the sultry woods, [s5]
+ On viewless fingers [s6] counts the valley-clock,
+ Followed by drowsy crow of midnight cock.
+ --Bursts from the troubled larch's giant boughs
+ The pie, and, chattering, breaks the night's repose. [s7]
+ The dry leaves stir as with the serpent's walk,
+ And, far beneath, Banditti voices talk;
+ Behind her hill, [s8] the Moon, all crimson, rides,
+ And his red eyes the slinking Water hides.
+ --Vexed by the darkness, from the piny gulf
+ Ascending, nearer howls the famished wolf, [s9]
+ While thro' the stillness scatters wild dismay
+ Her babe's small cry, that leads him to his prey. 1820.
+
+s1-s9: see Sub-Variants below. txt. Ed.]
+
+
+[Variant 51:
+
+1836.
+
+ Now, passing Urseren's open vale serene,
+ Her quiet streams, and hills of downy green,
+ Plunge with the Russ embrowned by Terror's breath,
+ Where danger roofs the narrow walks of death; 1815.
+
+ Plunge where the Reuss with fearless might has rent
+ His headlong way along a dark descent. MS.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Variant 52:
+
+1836.
+
+ By floods, that, thundering from their dizzy height,
+ Swell more gigantic on the stedfast sight;
+ Black drizzling crags, that beaten by the din,
+ Vibrate, as if a voice complained within;
+ Bare steeps, where Desolation stalks afraid,
+ Unstedfast, by a blasted yew unstayed;
+ By cells whose image, trembling as he prays,
+ Awe-struck, the kneeling peasant scarce surveys;
+ Loose hanging rocks the Day's bless'd eye that hide,
+ And crosses reared to Death on every side,
+ Which with cold kiss Devotion planted near,
+ And bending water'd with the human tear;
+ That faded "silent" from her upward eye,
+ Unmoved with each rude form of Danger nigh, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 53:
+
+1836.
+
+ On as we move a softer prospect opes,
+ Calm huts, and lawns between, and sylvan slopes. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 54:
+
+1845.
+
+ While mists, suspended on the expiring gale,
+ Moveless o'er-hang the deep secluded vale, 1815.
+
+ Where mists, 1836.
+
+ Where mists suspended on the evening gale,
+ Spread roof-like o'er a deep secluded vale, C.
+
+ Given to clear view beneath a hoary veil
+ Of mists suspended on the evening gale. MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 55:
+
+1836.
+
+ The beams of evening, slipping soft between,
+ Light up of tranquil joy a sober scene. 1815.
+
+ Gently illuminate a sober scene; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 56: In the editions 1815-1832 ll. 214, 215 follow, instead of
+preceding, ll. 216-219.]
+
+
+[Variant 57:
+
+1845.
+
+ On the low brown wood-huts delighted sleep
+ Along the brightened gloom reposing deep. 1815.
+
+ Here, on the brown wood-cottages they sleep,
+ There, over lawns and sloping woodlands creep. 1836.
+
+ There, over lawn or sloping pasture creep. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 58:
+
+1845.
+
+ Winding its dark-green wood and emerald glade,
+ The still vale lengthens underneath the shade;
+ While in soft gloom the scattering bowers recede,
+ Green dewy lights adorn the freshened mead, 1815.
+
+ Winding its darksome wood and emerald glade,
+ The still vale lengthens underneath the shade
+ Of low-hung vapour: on the freshened mead
+ The green light sparkles;--the dim bowers recede. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 59:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... drizzling ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 60:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... my soul awake,
+ Lo! Fear looks silent down on Uri's lake;
+ Where by the unpathwayed margin still and dread
+ Was never heard the plodding peasant's tread: 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 61:
+
+1845.
+
+ Tower like a wall the naked rocks, or reach
+ Far o'er the secret water dark with beech; 1815.
+
+ Tower-like rise up the naked rocks, or stretch 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 62:
+
+1845.
+
+ More high, to where creation seems to end,
+ Shade above shade the desert pines ascend. 1815.
+
+ ... the aërial pines ... 1820.
+
+ Shade above shade, the aërial pines ascend,
+ Nor stop but where creation seems to end. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 63:
+
+1845.
+
+(Compressing eight lines into four.)
+
+ Yet, with his infants, man undaunted creeps
+ And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps,
+ Where'er, below, amid the savage scene
+ Peeps out a little speck of smiling green.
+ A garden-plot the mountain air perfumes,
+ Mid the dark pines a little orchard blooms;
+ A zig-zag path from the domestic skiff,
+ Threading the painful crag, surmounts the cliff. 1815.
+
+ ... wood-cabin on the steeps. 1820.
+
+ ... the desert air perfumes, 1820.
+
+ Thridding the painful crag, ... 1832.
+
+ Yet, wheresoe'er amid the savage scene
+ Peeps out a little spot of smiling green,
+ Man with his babes undaunted thither creeps,
+ And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps.
+ A garden-plot ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 64:
+
+1845.
+
+ --Before those hermit doors, that never know 1815.
+
+ --Before those lonesome doors, ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 65:
+
+1845.
+
+ The grassy seat beneath their casement shade
+ The pilgrim's wistful eye hath never stayed. 1815.
+
+ The shady porch ne'er offered a cool seat
+ To pilgrims overpowered by summer's heat. 1836.]
+
+[Variants 66 and 67: See Appendix III.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Variant 68:
+
+1845.
+
+Lines 246 to 253 were previously:
+
+ --There, did the iron Genius not disdain
+ The gentle Power that haunts the myrtle plain,
+ There might the love-sick Maiden sit, and chide
+ Th' insuperable rocks and severing tide,
+ There watch at eve her Lover's sun-gilt sail
+ Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale,
+ There list at midnight, till is heard no more,
+ Below, the echo of his parting oar,
+ There hang in fear, when growls the frozen stream, [v]
+ To guide his dangerous tread, the taper's gleam. 1815.
+
+ There might the maiden chide, in love-sick mood,
+ The insuperable rocks and severing flood; 1836.
+
+ At midnight listen till his parting oar,
+ And its last echo, can be heard no more. 1836.
+
+ Yet tender thoughts dwell there, no solitude
+ Hath power youth's natural feelings to exclude;
+ There doth the maiden watch her lover's sail
+ Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 69:
+
+1845.
+
+ Mid stormy vapours ever driving by,
+ Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry; 1815.
+
+ Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry,
+ 'Mid stormy vapours ever driving by, 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 70:
+
+1836.
+
+ Where hardly given the hopeless waste to cheer,
+ Denied the bread of life the foodful ear, 1815.
+
+ Hovering o'er rugged wastes too bleak to rear
+ That common growth of earth, the foodful ear; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 71:
+
+1820.
+
+ Dwindles the pear on autumn's latest spray,
+ And apple sickens pale in summer's ray; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 72:
+
+1845.
+
+ Ev'n here Content has fixed her smiling reign 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 73:
+
+1845.
+
+ And often grasps her sword, and often eyes:
+ Her crest a bough of Winter's bleakest pine,
+ Strange "weeds" and alpine plants her helm entwine,
+ And wildly-pausing oft she hangs aghast,
+ While thrills the "Spartan fife" between the blast. 1815.
+
+ Flowers of the loftiest Alps her helm entwine;
+ And, wildly pausing, oft she hangs aghast,
+ As thrills ... 1836.
+
+ And oft at Fancy's call she stands aghast,
+ As if some old Swiss air had checked her haste,
+ Or thrill of Spartan fife were caught between the blast. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 74:
+
+1845.
+
+ 'Tis storm; and, hid in mist from hour to hour, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 75:
+
+1845.
+
+ Glances the fire-clad eagle's wheeling form; 1815.
+
+ ... glorious form; 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 76:
+
+1845.
+
+ Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold, 1815.
+
+ Those eastern cliffs ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 77:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... strives to shun
+ The west ... 1815.
+
+ ... tries to shun
+ The _west_, ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 78:
+
+1845.
+
+ Where in a mighty crucible expire
+ The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 79:
+
+1836.
+
+ While burn in his full eyes the glorious tears. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 80:
+
+1836.
+
+ Exalt, and agitate ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 81:
+
+1836.
+
+ On Zutphen's plain; or where, with soften'd gaze,
+ The old grey stones the plaided chief surveys;
+ Can guess the high resolve, the cherished pain
+ Of him whom passion rivets to the plain, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 82:
+
+1836.
+
+ And watch, from pike to pike, amid the sky
+ Small as a bird the chamois-chaser fly, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 83:
+
+1836.
+
+ Thro' worlds where Life, and Sound, and Motion sleep;
+ Where Silence still her death-like reign extends,
+ Save when the startling cliff unfrequent rends:
+ In the deep snow the mighty ruin drowned,
+ Mocks the dull ear ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 84:
+
+1836.
+
+ While the near moon, that coasts the vast profound,
+ Wheels pale and silent her diminished round, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 85:
+
+1827.
+
+ Flying more fleet than vision can pursue! 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 86:
+
+1836.
+
+ Then with Despair's whole weight his spirits sink,
+ No bread to feed him, and the snow his drink,
+ While, ere his eyes ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 87:
+
+1836.
+
+ Hence shall we turn where, heard with fear afar, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 88:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... from ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 89:
+
+1836.
+
+ Nought but the herds that pasturing upward creep,
+ Hung dim-discover'd from the dangerous steep,
+ Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high
+ Suspended, mid the quiet of the sky. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 90:
+
+1836.
+
+ Broke only by the melancholy sound 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 91: The two previous lines were added in 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 92:
+
+1832.
+
+ Save that, the stranger seen below, ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 93:
+
+1836.
+
+ When warm from myrtle bays and tranquil seas,
+ Comes on, to whisper hope, the vernal breeze,
+ When hums the mountain bee in May's glad ear,
+ And emerald isles to spot the heights appear, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 94:
+
+ When fragrant scents beneath th' enchanted tread
+ Spring up, his choicest wealth around him spread,
+
+Inserted in the editions 1815 to 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 95:
+
+1836.
+
+ The pastoral Swiss begins the cliffs to scale,
+ To silence leaving the deserted vale, 1815]
+
+
+[Variant 96:
+
+1836.
+
+ Mounts, where the verdure leads, from stage to stage,
+ And pastures on, as in the Patriarch's age: 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 97:
+
+1836.
+
+ O'er lofty heights serene and still they go, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 98:
+
+1836.
+
+(Omitting the first of the two following couplets.)
+
+ They cross the chasmy torrent's foam-lit bed,
+ Rocked on the dizzy larch's narrow tread;
+ Or steal beneath loose mountains, half deterr'd,
+ That sigh and shudder to the lowing herd. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 99: This couplet was added in the edition of 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 100:
+
+1836.
+
+Lines 380-385 were previously:
+
+ --I see him, up the midway cliff he creeps
+ To where a scanty knot of verdure peeps,
+ Thence down the steep a pile of grass he throws,
+ The fodder of his herds in winter snows. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 101:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... to what tradition hoar
+ Transmits of days more blest ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 102:
+
+1845.
+
+ Then Summer lengthened out his season bland,
+ And with rock-honey flowed the happy land. 1815.
+
+ Then Summer lingered long; and honey flowed
+ Out of the rocks, the wild bees' safe abode. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 103:
+
+1836.
+
+ Continual fountains ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 104:
+
+1836.
+
+ Nor Hunger forced the herds from pastures bare
+ For scanty food the treacherous cliffs to dare. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 105:
+
+1836.
+
+ Then the milk-thistle bade those herds demand
+ Three times a day the pail and welcome hand. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 106:
+
+1836.
+
+ Thus does the father to his sons relate,
+ On the lone mountain top, their changed estate. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 107:
+
+1836.
+
+ But human vices have provoked the rod 1815.
+
+In the editions 1815-1832 this and the following line preceded lines
+399-400. They took their final position in the edition of 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 108:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... whose vales and mountains round 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 109:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing eight lines into six.)
+
+ ... to awful silence bound.
+ A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide
+ And bottomless, divides the midway tide.
+ Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear
+ The pines that near the coast their summits rear;
+ Of cabins, woods, and lawns a pleasant shore
+ Bounds calm and clear the chaps still and hoar;
+ Loud thro' that midway gulf ascending, sound
+ Unnumber'd streams with hollow roar profound: 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 110:
+
+1836.
+
+ Mount thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds,
+ And talking voices, and the low of herds,
+ The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell,
+ And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 111:
+
+1836.
+
+ Think not, suspended from the cliff on high,
+ He looks below with undelighted eye. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 112: This couplet was added in the edition of 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 113:
+
+1836.
+
+ --No vulgar joy is his, at even tide
+ Stretch'd on the scented mountain's purple side. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 114:
+
+1836.
+
+ While Hope, that ceaseless leans on Pleasure's urn, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 115:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... by vestal ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 116:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... native ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 117:
+
+1832.
+
+ He marches with his flute, his book, and sword; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 118:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... wonderous ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 119:
+
+1840.
+
+ ... glorious ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 120:
+
+1836.
+
+ Uncertain thro' his fierce uncultured soul
+ Like lighted tempests troubled transports roll;
+ To viewless realms his Spirit towers amain, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 121:
+
+1836.
+
+ And oft, when pass'd that solemn vision by, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 122:
+
+1836.
+
+ Where the dread peal ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 123:
+
+1836.
+
+ --When the Sun bids the gorgeous scene farewell,
+ Alps overlooking Alps their state up-swell;
+ Huge Pikes of Darkness named, of Fear and Storms,
+ Lift, all serene, their still, illumined forms, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 124:
+
+1845.
+
+ --Great joy, by horror tam'd, dilates his heart,
+ And the near heavens their own delights impart. 1820.
+
+In the editions 1820-1832 this couplet preceded the four lines above
+quoted.
+
+ Fear in his breast with holy love unites,
+ And the near heavens impart their own delights. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 125:
+
+1836.
+
+ That hut which from the hills his eyes employs
+ So oft, the central point of all his joys, 1815.
+
+ ... his eye ... 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 126:
+
+1836
+
+ And as a swift, by tender cares opprest,
+ Peeps often ere she dart into her nest,
+ So to the untrodden floor, where round him looks
+ His father, helpless as the babe he rocks,
+ Oft he descends to nurse the brother pair, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 127:
+
+1820.
+
+ Where, ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 128:
+
+1836.
+
+ Rush down the living rocks with whirlwind sound. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 129:
+
+1820.
+
+ Content ... 1815. ]
+
+
+[Variant 130:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... consecrate ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 131: The following lines were erased in 1836, and in all
+subsequent editions:
+
+ "Here," cried a swain, whose venerable head
+ Bloom'd with the snow-drops of Man's narrow bed,
+ Last night, while by his dying fire, as clos'd
+ The day, in luxury my limbs repos'd,
+ Here Penury oft from misery's mount will guide
+ Ev'n to the summer door his icy tide,
+ And here the avalanche of Death destroy
+ The little cottage of domestic Joy. 1793.]
+
+ ... a Swain, upon whose hoary head
+ The "blossoms of the grave" were thinly spread, 1820.
+
+ ... a thoughtful Swain, upon whose head 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 132:
+
+1836.
+
+ But, ah! the unwilling mind ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 133:
+
+1836.
+
+ The churlish gales, that unremitting blow
+ Cold from necessity's continual snow, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 134:
+
+1836.
+
+ To us ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 135:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... a never-ceasing ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 136:
+
+1836.
+
+ The father, as his sons of strength become
+ To pay the filial debt, for food to roam, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 137:
+
+1836.
+
+ From his bare nest ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 138:
+
+1836.
+
+ His last dread pleasure! watches ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 139:
+
+1836.
+
+ When the poor heart has all its joys resigned,
+ Why does their sad remembrance cleave behind? 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 140:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell,
+ Unlocking tender thought's "memorial cell";
+ Past pleasures are transformed to mortal pains
+ And poison spreads along the listener's veins. 1820.
+
+ While poison ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 141:
+
+1836.
+
+ Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume! 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 142:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soft ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 143:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soon flies the little joy to man allowed,
+ And grief before him travels like a cloud: 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 144:
+
+1836. (Expanding four lines into six.)
+
+ For come Diseases on, and Penury's rage,
+ Labour, and Care, and Pain, and dismal Age,
+ Till, Hope-deserted, long in vain his breath
+ Implores the dreadful untried sleep of Death. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 145:
+
+1836.
+
+ A Temple stands; which holds an awful shrine, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 146:
+
+1836.
+
+ Pale, dreadful faces round the Shrine appear, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 147:
+
+1836. After this line the editions of 1815-1832 have the following
+couplet:
+
+ While strives a secret Power to hush the crowd,
+ Pain's wild rebellious burst proclaims her rights aloud,
+
+and this is followed by lines 545-6 of the final text.]
+
+
+[Variant 148:
+
+1836.
+
+From 1815 to 1832, the following two couplets followed line 546. The
+first of these was withdrawn in 1836.
+
+ Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torment meet,
+ Dire clap of hands, distracted chafe of feet;
+ While loud and dull ascends the weeping cry,
+ Surely in other thoughts contempt may die. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 149:
+
+1836.
+
+ --The tall Sun, tiptoe ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 150:
+
+1836.
+
+ At such an hour there are who love to stray,
+ And meet the advancing Pilgrims ere the day 1820.
+
+ Now let us meet the Pilgrims ere the day
+ Close on the remnant of their weary way; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 151:
+
+1836.
+
+ For ye are drawing tow'rd that sacred floor,
+ Where the charmed worm of pain shall gnaw no more. 1820.
+
+ While they are drawing toward the sacred floor 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 152:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... for you ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 153:
+
+1836.
+
+ --Now with a tearful kiss each other greet,
+ Nor longer naked be your toil-worn feet, 1820.
+
+ There some with tearful kiss each other greet,
+ And some, with reverence, wash their toil-worn feet. 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 154:
+
+1836.
+
+ Yes I will see you when you first behold 1820.
+
+ ... ye ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 155: This couplet was added in 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 156:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... the hands ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 157:
+
+1836.
+
+ Last let us turn to where Chamouny shields, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 158:
+
+1827.
+
+ Bosomed in gloomy woods, ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 159:
+
+1836.
+
+ Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fann'd,
+ Here all the Seasons revel hand in hand. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 160:
+
+1836.
+
+ --Red stream the cottage-lights; the landscape fades,
+ Erroneous wavering mid the twilight shades.
+
+Inserted in the editions 1820 to 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 161:
+
+1836.
+
+ Alone ascends that Mountain named of white, 1820.
+
+ Alone ascends that Hill of matchless height, 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 162:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... amid ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 163:
+
+1836.
+
+ Mysterious ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 164:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... 'mid ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 165:
+
+1836.
+
+ At such an hour I heaved a pensive sigh,
+ When roared the sullen Arve in anger by, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 166:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... delicious ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 167:
+
+1836.
+
+ Hard lot!--for no Italian arts are thine
+ To cheat, or chear, to soften, or refine. 1820.
+
+ To soothe or cheer, ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 168:
+
+1836.
+
+ Beloved Freedom! were it mine to stray,
+ With shrill winds roaring ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 169:
+
+1836.
+
+ O'er ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 170:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing four lines into two.)
+
+ ... o'er Lugano blows;
+ In the wide ranges of many a varied round,
+ Fleet as my passage was, I still have found
+ That where proud courts their blaze of gems display,
+ The lilies of domestic joy decay, 1820.
+
+ That where despotic courts their gems display, 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 171:
+
+1836.
+
+ In thy dear ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 172: The previous three lines were added in the edition of 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 173:
+
+1836.
+
+ The casement's shed more luscious woodbine binds,
+ And to the door a neater pathway winds; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 174:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing six lines into two.)
+
+ At early morn, the careful housewife, led
+ To cull her dinner from its garden bed,
+ Of weedless herbs a healthier prospect sees,
+ While hum with busier joy her happy bees;
+ In brighter rows her table wealth aspires,
+ And laugh with merrier blaze her evening fires; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 175:
+
+1836.
+
+ Her infants' cheeks with fresher roses glow,
+ And wilder graces sport around their brow; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 176:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing four lines into two.)
+
+ By clearer taper lit, a cleanlier board
+ Receives at supper hour her tempting hoard;
+ The chamber hearth with fresher boughs is spread,
+ And whiter is the hospitable bed. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 177:
+
+1845.
+
+(Compressing four lines into two.)
+
+ And oh, fair France! though now along the shade
+ Where erst at will the grey-clad peasant strayed,
+ Gleam war's discordant garments through the trees,
+ And the red banner mocks the froward breeze; 1820.
+
+ ... discordant vestments through the trees,
+ And the red banner fluctuates in the breeze; 1827.
+
+ ... though in the rural shade
+ Where at his will, so late, the grey-clad peasant strayed,
+ Now, clothed in war's discordant garb, he sees
+ The three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze; 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 178:
+
+1836.
+
+ Though now no more thy maids their voices suit
+ To the low-warbled breath of twilight lute,
+ And, heard the pausing village hum between,
+ No solemn songstress lull the fading green, 1820.
+
+ Though martial songs have banish'd songs of love,
+ And nightingales forsake the village grove, 1827.
+
+(Compressing the four lines of 1820 into two.)]
+
+
+[Variant 179:
+
+1836.
+
+ While, as Night bids the startling uproar die,
+ Sole sound, the Sourd renews his mournful cry! 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 180:
+
+1836.
+
+ Chasing those long long dreams, ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 181:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... fainter pang ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 182:
+
+1836.
+
+ A more majestic tide [vi] the water roll'd,
+ And glowed the sun-gilt groves in richer gold. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 183:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing six lines into four.)
+
+ --Though Liberty shall soon, indignant, raise
+ Red on the hills his beacon's comet blaze;
+ Bid from on high his lonely cannon sound,
+ And on ten thousand hearths his shout rebound;
+ His larum-bell from village-tower to tower
+ Swing on the astounded ear its dull undying roar; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 184:
+
+1836.
+
+ Yet, yet rejoice, though Pride's perverted ire
+ Rouze Hell's own aid, and wrap thy hills on fire!
+ Lo! from the innocuous flames, a lovely birth,
+ With its own Virtues springs another earth: 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 185:
+
+1836.
+
+Lines 646-651 were previously
+
+ Nature, as in her prime, her virgin reign
+ Begins, and Love and Truth compose her train;
+ While, with a pulseless hand, and stedfast gaze,
+ Unbreathing Justice her still beam surveys. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 186:
+
+1836.
+
+(Expanding eight lines into nine.)
+
+ Oh give, great God, to Freedom's waves to ride
+ Sublime o'er Conquest, Avarice, and Pride,
+ To sweep where Pleasure decks her guilty bowers
+ And dark Oppression builds her thick-ribbed towers!
+ --Give them, beneath their breast while gladness springs
+ To brood the nations o'er with Nile-like wings;
+ And grant that every sceptred Child of clay,
+ Who cries, presumptuous, "here their tides shall stay," 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 187: This couplet was added in 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 188:
+
+1836.
+
+ Swept in their anger from the affrighted shore,
+ With all his creatures sink--to rise no more! 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 189:
+
+1845.
+
+ Be the dead load of mortal ills forgot! 1820
+
+ Be fear and joyful hope alike forgot 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 190: This couplet was added in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 191:
+
+1836.
+
+ Renewing, when the rosy summits glow
+ At morn, our various journey, sad and slow. 1820.
+
+ With lighter heart our course we may renew,
+ The first whose footsteps print the mountain dew. 1827.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-VARIANTS
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 1:
+
+ A single taper in the vale profound
+ Shifts, while the Alps dilated glimmer round; 1832.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 2:
+
+ And, ... 1832.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 3:
+
+ ... above yon ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 4:
+
+ By the deep gloom appalled, the Vagrant sighs, 1836.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 5: This couplet was cancelled in the edition of 1827.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 6:
+
+ Or on her fingers ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 7: This couplet was withdrawn in 1827.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 8:
+
+ Behind the hill ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 9:
+
+ Near and yet nearer, from the piny gulf
+ Howls, by the darkness vexed, the famished wolf, 1836.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES
+
+
+[Footnote A: See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836
+(p. 1).--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: In a small pocket copy of the 'Orlando Furioso' 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this
+edition (1840). See p. 79.--Ed. [the end of the introductory text to
+'Guilt and Sorrow', the next poem in this text.]]
+
+
+[Footnote E: See Addison's 'Cato', Act 1. Scene i., l. 171:
+
+ Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote F: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote G: Compare Pope's 'Windsor Forest', ll. 129, 130;
+
+ He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye:
+ Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky:
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote H: Alluding to crosses seen on the tops of the spiry rocks of
+the Chartreuse, which have every appearance of being inaccessible.--W.
+W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote J: Compare Milton's 'Ode on the Nativity', stanza xx.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote K: Names of rivers at the Chartreuse.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote L: Name of one of the valleys of the Chartreuse.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote M: The river along whose banks you descend in crossing the
+Alps by the Simplon Pass---W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote N: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote P: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Q: Crosses commemorative of the deaths of travellers by the
+fall of snow and other accidents very common along this dreadful
+road.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote R: The houses in the more retired Swiss valleys are all built
+of wood.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote S: See Burns's 'Postscript' to his 'Cry and Prayer':
+
+ And when he fa's,
+His latest draught o' breathin' leaves him
+ In faint huzzas.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote T: 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 'Tour in Switzerland'.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote U: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote V: This picture is from the middle region of the Alps.--W. W.
+1815. _Chalets_ are summer huts for the Swiss herdsmen.--W. W. 1836.]
+
+
+[Footnote W: Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind
+through the trees.--W. W. 1793.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Footnote X: See Smollett's 'Ode to Leven Water' in 'Humphry Clinker',
+and compare 'The Italian Itinerant and the Swiss Goatherd', in
+"Memorials of a Tour on the Continent" in 1820, part ii. 1.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote Y: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Z: As Schreck-Horn, the pike of terror. Wetter-Horn, the pike
+of storms, etc., etc.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote Aa: The effect of the famous air called in French Ranz des
+Vaches upon the Swiss troops.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote Bb: 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.]
+
+[Footnote Cc: Compare the Stanzas 'Composed in one of the Catholic
+Cantons', in the "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent" (1820), which
+refer to Einsiedlen.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote Dd: Rude fountains built and covered with sheds for the
+accommodation of the pilgrims, in their ascent of the mountain.--W. W.
+1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ee: Compare Coleridge's 'Hymn before Sun-rise, in the Vale of
+Chamouni':
+
+ And you, ye five wild torrents fiercely glad!
+ ...
+ ... Who, with living flowers
+ Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet?
+ ...
+ O struggling with the darkness all the night,
+ And visited all night by troops of stars,
+ ...
+ The Arve and Arveiron at thy base
+ Rave ceaselessly;
+
+Compare also Shelley's 'Mont Blanc'.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ff: See note on Coleridge's 'Hymn before Sun-rise' on previous
+page.--Ed.[in Footnote Ff directly above]]
+
+
+[Footnote Gg: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Hh: 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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTES
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: In the edition of 1815, the 28 lines, from "No sad
+vacuities" to "a wanderer came there," are entitled "Pleasures of the
+Pedestrian."--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote ii: See 'Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude', l.
+54:
+
+ The meanest floweret of the vale,
+ The simplest note that swells the gale.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote iii: In the editions of 1820 to 1832 the four lines
+beginning "The Grison gypsey," etc., precede those beginning "The mind
+condemned," etc.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote iv: In the edition of 1793 Wordsworth put the following
+note:
+
+ "Red came the river down, and loud, and oft
+ The angry Spirit of the water shriek'd."
+
+(HOME'S _Douglas_.)
+
+See Act III. l. 86; or p. 32 in the edition of 1757.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote v: This and the following line are only in the editions of
+1815 and 1820.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote vi: Compare the Sonnet entitled 'The Author's Voyage down
+the Rhine, thirty years ago', in the "Memorials of a Tour on the
+Continent' in 1820, and the note appended to it.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+GUILT AND SORROW; OR, INCIDENTS UPON SALISBURY PLAIN
+
+
+Composed 1791-4.--Published as 'The Female Vagrant' in "Lyrical Ballads"
+in 1798, and as 'Guilt and Sorrow' in the "Poems of Early and Late
+Years," and in "Poems written in Youth," in 1845, and onward.
+
+
+ ADVERTISEMENT, PREFIXED TO THE FIRST EDITION OF THIS POEM, PUBLISHED
+ IN 1842.
+
+ 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 'The Female Vagrant'. 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.
+
+ 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. After leaving
+ the Isle of Wight, I spent two [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.
+
+ 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.
+
+ 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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ [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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The foregoing is the Fenwick note to 'Guilt and Sorrow'. The note to
+'The Female Vagrant',--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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ [I find the date of this is placed in 1792, in contradiction, by
+ mistake, to what I have asserted in 'Guilt and Sorrow'. 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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+In 1798 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 'The Female Vagrant' among
+his "Juvenile Pieces" from 1815 to 1832. In 1836, he included it along
+with 'Descriptive Sketches' in his Table of Contents; [B] 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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+I
+
+ A traveller on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
+ Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;
+ Stooping his gait, but not as if to gain
+ Help from the staff he bore; for mien and air
+ Were hardy, though his cheek seemed worn with care 5
+ Both of the time to come, and time long fled:
+ Down fell in straggling locks his thin grey hair;
+ A coat he wore of military red
+ But faded, and stuck o'er with many a patch and shred.
+
+
+II
+
+ While thus he journeyed, step by step led on, 10
+ He saw and passed a stately inn, full sure
+ That welcome in such house for him was none.
+ No board inscribed the needy to allure
+ Hung there, no bush proclaimed to old and poor
+ And desolate, "Here you will find a friend!" 15
+ The pendent grapes glittered above the door;--
+ On he must pace, perchance 'till night descend,
+ Where'er the dreary roads their bare white lines extend.
+
+
+III
+
+ The gathering clouds grew red with stormy fire,
+ In streaks diverging wide and mounting high; 20
+ That inn he long had passed; the distant spire,
+ Which oft as he looked back had fixed his eye,
+ Was lost, though still he looked, in the blank sky.
+ Perplexed and comfortless he gazed around,
+ And scarce could any trace of man descry, 25
+ Save cornfields stretched and stretching without bound;
+ But where the sower dwelt was nowhere to be found.
+
+
+IV
+
+ No tree was there, no meadow's pleasant green,
+ No brook to wet his lip or soothe his ear;
+ Long files of corn-stacks here and there were seen, 30
+ But not one dwelling-place his heart to cheer.
+ Some labourer, thought he, may perchance be near;
+ And so he sent a feeble shout--in vain;
+ No voice made answer, he could only hear
+ Winds rustling over plots of unripe grain, 35
+ Or whistling thro' thin grass along the unfurrowed plain.
+
+
+V
+
+ Long had he fancied each successive slope
+ Concealed some cottage, whither he might turn
+ And rest; but now along heaven's darkening cope
+ The crows rushed by in eddies, homeward borne. 40
+ Thus warned he sought some shepherd's spreading thorn
+ Or hovel from the storm to shield his head,
+ But sought in vain; for now, all wild, forlorn,
+ And vacant, a huge waste around him spread;
+ The wet cold ground, he feared, must be his only bed. 45
+
+
+VI
+
+ And be it so--for to the chill night shower
+ And the sharp wind his head he oft hath bared;
+ A Sailor he, who many a wretched hour
+ Hath told; for, landing after labour hard,
+ Full long [1] endured in hope of just reward, 50
+ He to an armèd fleet was forced away
+ By seamen, who perhaps themselves had shared
+ Like fate; was hurried off, a helpless prey,
+ 'Gainst all that in _his_ heart, or theirs perhaps, said nay.
+
+
+VII
+
+ For years the work of carnage did not cease. 55
+ And death's dire aspect daily he surveyed,
+ Death's minister; then came his glad release,
+ And hope returned, and pleasure fondly made
+ Her dwelling in his dreams. By Fancy's aid
+ The happy husband flies, his arms to throw 60
+ Round his wife's neck; the prize of victory laid
+ In her full lap, he sees such sweet tears flow
+ As if thenceforth nor pain nor trouble she could know.
+
+
+VIII
+
+ Vain hope! for fraud took all that he had earned.
+ The lion roars and gluts his tawny brood 65
+ Even in the desert's heart; but he, returned,
+ Bears not to those he loves their needful food.
+ His home approaching, but in such a mood
+ That from his sight his children might have run,
+ He met a traveller, robbed him, shed his blood; 70
+ And when the miserable work was done
+ He fled, a vagrant since, the murderer's fate to shun.
+
+
+IX
+
+ From that day forth no place to him could be
+ So lonely, but that thence might come a pang
+ Brought from without to inward misery. 75
+ Now, as he plodded on, with sullen clang
+ A sound of chains along the desert rang;
+ He looked, and saw upon a gibbet high
+ A human body that in irons swang,
+ Uplifted by the tempest whirling by; 80
+ And, hovering, round it often did a raven fly. [C]
+
+
+X
+
+ It was a spectacle which none might view,
+ In spot so savage, but with shuddering pain;
+ Nor only did for him at once renew
+ All he had feared from man, but roused a train 85
+ Of the mind's phantoms, horrible as vain.
+ The stones, as if to cover him from day,
+ Rolled at his back along the living plain;
+ He fell, and without sense or motion lay;
+ But, when the trance was gone, feebly pursued [2] his way. 90
+
+
+XI
+
+ As one whose brain habitual [3] frensy fires
+ Owes to the fit in which his soul hath tossed
+ Profounder quiet, when the fit retires,
+ Even so the dire phantasma which had crossed
+ His sense, in sudden vacancy quite lost, 95
+ Left his mind still as a deep evening stream.
+ Nor, if accosted now, in thought engrossed,
+ Moody, or inly troubled, would he seem
+ To traveller who might talk of any casual theme.
+
+
+XII
+
+ Hurtle the clouds in deeper darkness piled, 100
+ Gone is the raven timely rest to seek;
+ He seemed the only creature in the wild
+ On whom the elements their rage might wreak;
+ Save that the bustard, of those regions bleak
+ Shy tenant, seeing by the uncertain light 105
+ A man there wandering, gave a mournful shriek,
+ And half upon the ground, with strange affright,
+ Forced hard against the wind a thick unwieldy flight.
+
+
+XIII
+
+ All, all was cheerless to the horizon's bound;
+ The weary eye--which, wheresoe'er it strays, 110
+ Marks nothing but the red sun's setting round,
+ Or on the earth strange lines, in former days
+ Left by gigantic arms--at length surveys
+ What seems an antique castle spreading wide;
+ Hoary and naked are its walls, and raise 115
+ Their brow sublime: in shelter there to bide
+ He turned, while rain poured down smoking on every side.
+
+
+XIV
+
+ Pile of Stone-henge! so proud to hint yet keep
+ Thy secrets, thou that lov'st to stand and hear
+ The Plain resounding to the whirlwind's sweep, 120
+ Inmate of lonesome Nature's endless year;
+ Even if thou saw'st the giant wicker rear
+ For sacrifice its throngs of living men,
+ Before thy face did ever wretch appear,
+ Who in his heart had groaned with deadlier pain 125
+ Than he who, tempest-driven, thy shelter now would gain? [4]
+
+XV
+
+ Within that fabric of mysterious form,
+ Winds met in conflict, each by turns supreme;
+ And, from the perilous ground dislodged, [5] through storm
+ And rain he wildered on, no moon to stream 130
+ From gulf of parting clouds one friendly beam,
+ Nor any friendly sound his footsteps led;
+ Once did the lightning's faint disastrous gleam
+ Disclose a naked guide-post's double head,
+ Sight which tho' lost at once a gleam of pleasure shed. 135
+
+
+XVI
+
+ No swinging sign-board creaked from cottage elm
+ To stay his steps with faintness overcome;
+ 'Twas dark and void as ocean's watery realm
+ Roaring with storms beneath night's starless gloom;
+ No gipsy cower'd o'er fire of furze or broom; 140
+ No labourer watched his red kiln glaring bright,
+ Nor taper glimmered dim from sick man's room;
+ Along the waste no line of mournful light
+ From lamp of lonely toll-gate streamed athwart the night.
+
+
+XVII
+
+ At length, though hid in clouds, the moon arose; 145
+ The downs were visible--and now revealed
+ A structure stands, which two bare slopes enclose.
+ It was a spot, where, ancient vows fulfilled,
+ Kind pious hands did to the Virgin build
+ A lonely Spital, the belated swain 150
+ From the night terrors of that waste to shield:
+ But there no human being could remain,
+ And now the walls are named the "Dead House" of the plain.
+
+
+XVIII
+
+ Though he had little cause to love the abode
+ Of man, or covet sight of mortal face, 155
+ Yet when faint beams of light that ruin showed,
+ How glad he was at length to find some trace
+ Of human shelter in that dreary place.
+ Till to his flock the early shepherd goes,
+ Here shall much-needed sleep his frame embrace. 160
+ In a dry nook where fern the floor bestrows
+ He lays his stiffened limbs,--his eyes begin to close;
+
+
+XIX
+
+ When hearing a deep sigh, that seemed to come
+ From one who mourned in sleep, he raised his head,
+ And saw a woman in the naked room 165
+ Outstretched, and turning on a restless bed:
+ The moon a wan dead light around her shed.
+ He waked her--spake in tone that would not fail,
+ He hoped, to calm her mind; but ill he sped,
+ For of that ruin she had heard a tale 170
+ Which now with freezing thoughts did all her powers assail;
+
+
+XX
+
+ Had heard of one who, forced from storms to shroud,
+ Felt the loose walls of this decayed Retreat
+ Rock to incessant neighings shrill and loud,
+ While his horse pawed the floor with furious heat; 175
+ Till on a stone, that sparkled to his feet,
+ Struck, and still struck again, the troubled horse:
+ The man half raised the stone with pain and sweat,
+ Half raised, for well his arm might lose its force
+ Disclosing the grim head of a late murdered corse. 180
+
+
+XXI
+
+ Such tale of this lone mansion she had learned,
+ And, when that shape, with eyes in sleep half drowned,
+ By the moon's sullen lamp she first discerned,
+ Cold stony horror all her senses bound.
+ Her he addressed in words of cheering sound; 185
+ Recovering heart, like answer did she make;
+ And well it was that, of the corse there found,
+ In converse that ensued she nothing spake;
+ She knew not what dire pangs in him such tale could wake.
+
+
+XXII
+
+ But soon his voice and words of kind intent 190
+ Banished that dismal thought; and now the wind
+ In fainter howlings told its _rage_ was spent:
+ Meanwhile discourse ensued of various kind,
+ Which by degrees a confidence of mind
+ And mutual interest failed not to create. 195
+ And, to a natural sympathy resigned,
+ In that forsaken building where they sate
+ The Woman thus retraced her own untoward fate.
+ [6]
+
+
+XXIII
+
+ "By Derwent's side my father dwelt--a man
+ Of virtuous life, by pious parents bred; [7] 200
+ And I believe that, soon as I began
+ To lisp, he made me kneel beside my bed,
+ And in his hearing there my prayers I said:
+ And afterwards, by my good father taught,
+ I read, and loved the books in which I read; 205
+ For books in every neighbouring house I sought,
+ And nothing to my mind a sweeter pleasure brought.
+
+
+XXIV [8]
+
+ "A little croft we owned--a plot of corn,
+ A garden stored with peas, and mint, and thyme,
+ And flowers for posies, oft on Sunday morn 210
+ Plucked while the church bells rang their earliest chime.
+ Can I forget our freaks at shearing time!
+ My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;
+ The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime;
+ The swans that with white chests upreared in pride 215
+ Rushing and racing came to meet me at the water-side! [9]
+
+
+XXV
+
+ "The staff I well [10] remember which upbore
+ The bending body of my active sire;
+ His seat beneath the honied sycamore
+ Where [11] the bees hummed, and chair by winter fire; 220
+ When market-morning came, the neat attire
+ With which, though bent on haste, myself I decked;
+ Our watchful house-dog, that would tease and tire
+ The stranger till its barking-fit I checked; [12]
+ The red-breast, known for years, which at my casement pecked. 225
+
+
+XXVI
+
+ "The suns of twenty summers danced along,--
+ Too little marked how fast they rolled away:
+ But, through severe mischance and cruel wrong,
+ My father's substance fell into decay:
+ We toiled and struggled, hoping for a day 230
+ When Fortune might [13] put on a kinder look;
+ But vain were wishes, efforts vain as they;
+ He from his old hereditary nook
+ Must part; the summons [14] came;--our final leave we took. [15]
+ [16]
+
+
+XXVII
+
+ "It was indeed a miserable hour [17] 235
+ When, from the last hill-top, my sire surveyed,
+ Peering above the trees, the steeple tower
+ That on his marriage day sweet music made!
+ Till then, he hoped his bones might there be laid
+ Close by my mother in their native bowers: 240
+ Bidding me trust in God, he stood and prayed;--
+ I could not pray:--through tears that fell in showers
+ Glimmered our dear-loved home, alas! no longer ours! [18]
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+ "There was a Youth whom I had loved so long,
+ That when I loved him not I cannot say: 245
+ 'Mid the green mountains many a thoughtless song [19]
+ We two had sung, like gladsome birds [20] in May;
+ When we began to tire of childish play,
+ We seemed still more and more to prize each other;
+ We talked of marriage and our marriage day; 250
+ And I in truth did love him like a brother,
+ For never could I hope to meet with such another.
+
+
+XXIX
+
+ "Two years were passed since to a distant town
+ He had repaired to ply a gainful trade: [21]
+ What tears of bitter grief, till then unknown! 255
+ What tender vows our last sad kiss delayed!
+ To him we turned:--we had no other aid:
+ Like one revived, upon his neck I wept;
+ And her whom he had loved in joy, he said,
+ He well could love in grief; his faith he kept; 260
+ And in a quiet home once more my father slept.
+
+
+XXX
+
+ "We lived in peace and comfort; and were blest
+ With daily bread, by constant toil supplied. [22]
+ Three lovely babes had lain upon my breast; [23]
+ And often, viewing their sweet smiles, I sighed, 265
+ And knew not why. My happy father died,
+ When threatened war [24] reduced the children's meal:
+ Thrice happy! that for him the grave could hide [25]
+ The empty loom, cold hearth, and silent wheel,
+ And tears that [26] flowed for ills which patience might [27] 270
+ not heal.
+
+
+XXXI
+
+ "'Twas a hard change; an evil time was come;
+ We had no hope, and no relief could gain:
+ But soon, with proud parade, [28] the noisy drum
+ Beat round to clear [29] the streets of want and pain.
+ My husband's arms now only served to strain 275
+ Me and his children hungering in his view;
+ In such dismay my prayers and tears were vain:
+ To join those miserable men he flew,
+ And now to the sea-coast, with numbers more, we drew.
+
+
+XXXII
+
+ "There were we long neglected, and we bore 280
+ Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weighed [30]
+ Green fields before us, and our native shore,
+ We breathed a pestilential air, that made
+ Ravage for which no knell was heard. We prayed
+ For our departure; wished and wished--nor knew, 285
+ 'Mid that long sickness and those hopes delayed, [31]
+ That happier days we never more must view.
+ The parting signal streamed--at last the land withdrew.
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+ "But the calm summer season now was past. [32]
+ On as we drove, the equinoctial deep 290
+ Ran mountains high before the howling blast,
+ And many perished in the whirlwind's sweep.
+ We gazed with terror on their gloomy sleep, [33]
+ Untaught that soon such anguish must ensue,
+ Our hopes such harvest of affliction reap, 295
+ That we the mercy of the waves should rue:
+ We reached the western world, a poor devoted crew.
+ [34]
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+ "The pains and plagues that on our heads came down,
+ Disease and famine, agony and fear,
+ In wood or wilderness, in camp or town, 300
+ It would unman the firmest heart to hear. [35]
+ All perished--all in one remorseless year,
+ Husband and children! one by one, by sword
+ And ravenous plague, all perished: every tear
+ Dried up, despairing, desolate, on board 305
+ A British ship I waked, as from a trance restored."
+
+
+XXXV
+
+ Here paused she of all present thought forlorn,
+ Nor voice, nor sound, that moment's pain expressed,
+ Yet Nature, with excess of grief o'erborne,
+ From her full eyes their watery load released. 310
+ He too was mute: and, ere her weeping ceased,
+ He rose, and to the ruin's portal went,
+ And saw the dawn opening the silvery east
+ With rays of promise, north and southward sent;
+ And soon with crimson fire kindled the firmament. 315
+
+
+XXXVI
+
+ "O come," he cried, "come, after weary night
+ Of such rough storm, this happy change to view."
+ So forth she came, and eastward looked; the sight
+ Over her brow like dawn of gladness threw;
+ Upon her cheek, to which its youthful hue 320
+ Seemed to return, dried the last lingering tear,
+ And from her grateful heart a fresh one drew:
+ The whilst her comrade to her pensive cheer
+ Tempered fit words of hope; and the lark warbled near.
+
+
+XXXVII
+
+ They looked and saw a lengthening road, and wain 325
+ That rang down a bare slope not far remote:
+ The barrows glistered bright with drops of rain,
+ Whistled the waggoner with merry note,
+ The cock far off sounded his clarion throat;
+ But town, or farm, or hamlet, none they viewed, 330
+ Only were told there stood a lonely cot
+ A long mile thence. While thither they pursued
+ Their way, the Woman thus her mournful tale renewed.
+
+
+XXXVIII
+
+ "Peaceful as this immeasurable plain
+ Is now, by beams of dawning light imprest, [36] 335
+ In the calm sunshine slept the glittering main;
+ The very ocean hath its hour of rest.
+ I too forgot the heavings of my breast. [37]
+ How quiet 'round me ship and ocean were!
+ As quiet all within me. I was blest, 340
+ And looked, and fed upon the silent air
+ Until it seemed to bring a joy to my despair.[38]
+
+
+XXXIX
+
+ "Ah! how unlike those late terrific sleeps,
+ And groans that rage of racking famine spoke;
+ The unburied dead that lay in festering heaps,[39] 345
+ The breathing pestilence that rose like smoke,
+ The shriek that from the distant battle broke,
+ The mine's dire earthquake, and the pallid host
+ Driven by the bomb's incessant thunder-stroke
+ To loathsome vaults, where heart-sick anguish tossed, 350
+ Hope died, and fear itself in agony was lost!
+ [40]
+
+
+XL
+
+ "Some mighty gulf of separation passed,
+ I seemed transported to another world;
+ A thought resigned with pain, when from the mast
+ The impatient mariner the sail unfurled, 355
+ And, whistling, called the wind that hardly curled
+ The silent sea. From the sweet thoughts of home
+ And from all hope I was for ever hurled.
+ For me--farthest from earthly port to roam
+ Was best, could I but shun the spot where man might come. 360
+
+
+XLI
+
+ "And oft I thought (my fancy was so strong)
+ That I, at last, a resting-place had found;
+ 'Here will I dwell,' said I, 'my whole life long, [41]
+ Roaming the illimitable waters round;
+ Here will I live, of all but heaven disowned, 365
+ And end my days upon the peaceful flood.'--[42]
+ To break my dream the vessel reached its bound;
+ And homeless near a thousand homes I stood,
+ And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.
+
+
+XLII
+
+ "No help I sought; in sorrow turned adrift, 370
+ Was hopeless, as if cast on some bare rock; [43]
+ Nor morsel to my mouth that day did lift,
+ Nor raised [44] my hand at any door to knock.
+ I lay where, with his drowsy mates, the cock
+ From the cross-timber of an out-house hung: 375
+ Dismally [45] tolled, that night, the city clock!
+ At morn my sick heart hunger scarcely stung,
+ Nor to the beggar's language could I fit [46] my tongue.
+
+
+XLIII
+
+ "So passed a second day; and, when the third
+ Was come, I tried in vain the crowd's resort. [47] 380
+ --In deep despair, by frightful wishes stirred,
+ Near the sea-side I reached a ruined fort;
+ There, pains which nature could no more support,
+ With blindness linked, did on my vitals fall;
+ And, after many interruptions short [48] 385
+ Of hideous sense, I sank, [49] nor step could crawl:
+ Unsought for was the help that did my life recal. [50]
+
+
+XLIV
+
+ "Borne to a hospital, I lay with brain
+ Drowsy and weak, and shattered memory; [51]
+ I heard my neighbours in their beds complain 390
+ Of many things which never troubled me--
+ Of feet still bustling round with busy glee,
+ Of looks where common kindness had no part,
+ Of service done with cold formality, [52]
+ Fretting the fever round the languid heart, 395
+ And groans which, as they said, might [53] make a dead man
+ start.
+
+
+XLV
+
+ "These things just served to stir the slumbering [54] sense,
+ Nor pain nor pity in my bosom raised.
+ With strength did memory return; [55] and, thence
+ Dismissed, again on open day I gazed, 400
+ At houses, men, and common light, amazed.
+ The lanes I sought, and, as the sun retired,
+ Came where beneath the trees a faggot blazed;
+ The travellers [56] saw me weep, my fate inquired,
+ And gave me food--and rest, more welcome, more desired. 405
+ [57]
+
+
+XLVI
+
+ "Rough potters seemed they, trading soberly
+ With panniered asses driven from door to door;
+ But life of happier sort set forth to me, [58]
+ And other joys my fancy to allure--
+ The bag-pipe dinning on the midnight moor 410
+ In barn uplighted; and companions boon,
+ Well met from far with revelry secure
+ Among the forest glades, while jocund June [59]
+ Rolled fast along the sky his warm and genial moon.
+
+
+XLVII
+
+ "But ill they suited me--those journeys dark [60] 415
+ O'er moor and mountain, midnight theft to hatch!
+ To charm the surly house-dog's faithful bark,
+ Or hang on tip-toe at the lifted latch.
+ The gloomy lantern, and the dim blue match.
+ The black disguise, the warning whistle shrill, 420
+ And ear still busy on its nightly watch,
+ Were not for me, brought up in nothing ill:
+ Besides, on griefs so fresh my thoughts were brooding still.
+
+
+XLVIII
+
+ "What could I do, unaided and unblest?
+ My [61] father! gone was every friend of thine: 425
+ And kindred of dead husband are at best
+ Small help; and, after marriage such as mine,
+ With little kindness would to me incline.
+ Nor was I [62] then for toil or service fit;
+ My deep-drawn sighs no effort could confine; 430
+ In open air forgetful would I sit [63]
+ Whole hours, with [64] idle arms in moping sorrow knit.
+
+
+XLIX
+
+ "The roads I paced, I loitered through the fields;
+ Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
+ Trusted my life to what chance bounty yields, [65] 435
+ Now coldly given, now utterly refused.
+ The ground [66] I for my bed have often used:
+ But what afflicts my peace with keenest ruth,
+ Is that I have my inner self abused,
+ Forgone the home delight of constant truth, 440
+ And clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth.
+
+
+L
+
+ "Through tears the rising sun I oft have viewed,
+ Through tears have seen him towards that world descend [67]
+ Where my poor heart lost all its fortitude:
+ Three years a wanderer now my course I bend--[68] 445
+ Oh! tell me whither--for no earthly friend
+ Have I."--She ceased, and weeping turned away;
+ As if because her tale was at an end,
+ She wept; because she had no more to say
+ Of that perpetual weight which on her spirit lay. 450
+
+
+LI
+
+ True sympathy the Sailor's looks expressed,
+ His looks--for pondering he was mute the while.
+ Of social Order's care for wretchedness,
+ Of Time's sure help to calm and reconcile,
+ Joy's second spring and Hope's long-treasured smile, 455
+ 'Twas not for _him_ to speak--a man so tried.
+ Yet, to relieve her heart, in friendly style
+ Proverbial words of comfort he applied,
+ And not in vain, while they went pacing side by side.
+
+
+LII
+
+ Ere long, from heaps of turf, before their sight, 460
+ Together smoking in the sun's slant beam,
+ Rise various wreaths that into one unite
+ Which high and higher mounts with silver gleam:
+ Fair spectacle,--but instantly a scream
+ Thence bursting shrill did all remark prevent; 465
+ They paused, and heard a hoarser voice blaspheme,
+ And female cries. Their course they thither bent,
+ And met a man who foamed with anger vehement.
+
+
+LIII
+
+ A woman stood with quivering lips and pale,
+ And, pointing to a little child that lay 470
+ Stretched on the ground, began a piteous tale;
+ How in a simple freak of thoughtless play
+ He had provoked his father, who straightway,
+ As if each blow were deadlier than the last,
+ Struck the poor innocent. Pallid with dismay 475
+ The Soldier's Widow heard and stood aghast;
+ And stern looks on the man her grey-haired Comrade cast.
+
+
+LIV
+
+ His voice with indignation rising high
+ Such further deed in manhood's name forbade;
+ The peasant, wild in passion, made reply 480
+ With bitter insult and revilings sad;
+ Asked him in scorn what business there he had;
+ What kind of plunder he was hunting now;
+ The gallows would one day of him be glad;--
+ Though inward anguish damped the Sailor's brow, 485
+ Yet calm he seemed as thoughts so poignant would allow.
+
+
+LV
+
+ Softly he stroked the child, who lay outstretched
+ With face to earth; and, as the boy turned round
+ His battered head, a groan the Sailor fetched
+ As if he saw--there and upon that ground-- 490
+ Strange repetition of the deadly wound
+ He had himself inflicted. Through his brain
+ At once the griding iron passage found; [D]
+ Deluge of tender thoughts then rushed amain,
+ Nor could his sunken eyes the starting tear restrain. 495
+
+
+LVI
+
+ Within himself he said--What hearts have we!
+ The blessing this a father gives his child!
+ Yet happy thou, poor boy! compared with me,
+ Suffering not doing ill--fate far more mild.
+ The stranger's looks and tears of wrath beguiled 500
+ The father, and relenting thoughts awoke;
+ He kissed his son--so all was reconciled.
+ Then, with a voice which inward trouble broke
+ Ere to his lips it came, the Sailor them bespoke.
+
+
+LVII
+
+ "Bad is the world, and hard is the world's law 505
+ Even for the man who wears the warmest fleece;
+ Much need have ye that time more closely draw
+ The bond of nature, all unkindness cease,
+ And that among so few there still be peace:
+ Else can ye hope but with such numerous foes 510
+ Your pains shall ever with your years increase?"--
+ While from his heart the appropriate lesson flows,
+ A correspondent calm stole gently o'er his woes.
+
+
+LVIII
+
+
+ Forthwith the pair passed on; and down they look
+ Into a narrow valley's pleasant scene 515
+ Where wreaths of vapour tracked a winding brook,
+ That babbled on through groves and meadows green;
+ A low-roofed house peeped out the trees between;
+ The dripping groves resound with cheerful lays,
+ And melancholy lowings intervene 520
+ Of scattered herds, that in the meadow graze,
+ Some amid lingering shade, some touched by the sun's rays.
+
+
+LIX
+
+ They saw and heard, and, winding with the road
+ Down a thick wood, they dropt into the vale;
+ Comfort by prouder mansions unbestowed 525
+ Their wearied frames, she hoped, would soon regale.
+ Erelong they reached that cottage in the dale:
+ It was a rustic inn;--the board was spread,
+ The milk-maid followed with her brimming pail,
+ And lustily the master carved the bread, 530
+ Kindly the housewife pressed, and they in comfort fed.
+
+
+LX
+
+
+ Their breakfast done, the pair, though loth, must part;
+ Wanderers whose course no longer now agrees.
+ She rose and bade farewell! and, while her heart
+ Struggled with tears nor could its sorrow ease, 535
+ She left him there; for, clustering round his knees,
+ With his oak-staff the cottage children played;
+ And soon she reached a spot o'erhung with trees
+ And banks of ragged earth; beneath the shade
+ Across the pebbly road a little runnel strayed. 540
+
+
+LXI
+
+ A cart and horse beside the rivulet stood;
+ Chequering the canvas roof the sunbeams shone.
+ She saw the carman bend to scoop the flood
+ As the wain fronted her,--wherein lay one,
+ A pale-faced Woman, in disease far gone. 545
+ The carman wet her lips as well behoved;
+ Bed under her lean body there was none,
+ Though even to die near one she most had loved
+ She could not of herself those wasted limbs have moved.
+
+
+LXII
+
+ The Soldier's Widow learned with honest pain 550
+ And homefelt force of sympathy sincere,
+ Why thus that worn-out wretch must there sustain
+ The jolting road and morning air severe.
+ The wain pursued its way; and following near
+ In pure compassion she her steps retraced 555
+ Far as the cottage. "A sad sight is here,"
+ She cried aloud; and forth ran out in haste
+ The friends whom she had left but a few minutes past.
+
+
+LXIII
+
+ While to the door with eager speed they ran,
+ From her bare straw the Woman half upraised 560
+ Her bony visage--gaunt and deadly wan;
+ No pity asking, on the group she gazed
+ With a dim eye, distracted and amazed;
+ Then sank upon her straw with feeble moan.
+ Fervently cried the housewife--"God be praised, 565
+ I have a house that I can call my own;
+ Nor shall she perish there, untended and alone!"
+
+
+LXIV
+
+ So in they bear her to the chimney seat,
+ And busily, though yet with fear, untie
+ Her garments, and, to warm her icy feet 570
+ And chafe her temples, careful hands apply.
+ Nature reviving, with a deep-drawn sigh
+ She strove, and not in vain, her head to rear;
+ Then said--"I thank you all; if I must die,
+ The God in heaven my prayers for you will hear; 575
+ Till now I did not think my end had been so near.
+
+
+LXV
+
+ "Barred every comfort labour could procure,
+ Suffering what no endurance could assuage,
+ I was compelled to seek my father's door,
+ Though loth to be a burthen on his age. 580
+ But sickness stopped me in an early stage
+ Of my sad journey; and within the wain
+ They placed me--there to end life's pilgrimage,
+ Unless beneath your roof I may remain:
+ For I shall never see my father's door again. 585
+
+
+LXVI
+
+ "My life, Heaven knows, hath long been burthensome;
+ But, if I have not meekly suffered, meek
+ May my end be! Soon will this voice be dumb:
+ Should child of mine e'er wander hither, speak
+ Of me, say that the worm is on my cheek.-- 590
+ Torn from our hut, that stood beside the sea
+ Near Portland lighthouse in a lonesome creek,
+ My husband served in sad captivity
+ On shipboard, bound till peace or death should set him free.
+
+
+LXVII
+
+ "A sailor's wife I knew a widow's cares, 595
+ Yet two sweet little ones partook my bed;
+ Hope cheered my dreams, and to my daily prayers
+ Our heavenly Father granted each day's bread;
+ Till one was found by stroke of violence dead,
+ Whose body near our cottage chanced to lie; 600
+ A dire suspicion drove us from our shed;
+ In vain to find a friendly face we try,
+ Nor could we live together those poor boys and I;
+
+
+LXVIII
+
+ "For evil tongues made oath how on that day
+ My husband lurked about the neighbourhood; 605
+ Now he had fled, and whither none could say,
+ And _he_ had done the deed in the dark wood--
+ Near his own home!--but he was mild and good;
+ Never on earth was gentler creature seen;
+ He'd not have robbed the raven of its food. 610
+ My husband's loving kindness stood between
+ Me and all worldly harms and wrongs however keen."
+
+
+LXIX
+
+ Alas! the thing she told with labouring breath
+ The Sailor knew too well. That wickedness
+ His hand had wrought; and when, in the hour of death, 615
+ He saw his Wife's lips move his name to bless
+ With her last words, unable to suppress
+ His anguish, with his heart he ceased to strive;
+ And, weeping loud in this extreme distress,
+ He cried--"Do pity me! That thou shouldst live 620
+ I neither ask nor wish--forgive me, but forgive!"
+
+
+LXX
+
+ To tell the change that Voice within her wrought
+ Nature by sign or sound made no essay;
+ A sudden joy surprised expiring thought,
+ And every mortal pang dissolved away. 625
+ Borne gently to a bed, in death she lay;
+ Yet still while over her the husband bent,
+ A look was in her face which seemed to say,
+ "Be blest: by sight of thee from heaven was sent
+ Peace to my parting soul, the fulness of content." 630
+
+
+LXXI
+
+ _She_ slept in peace,--his pulses throbbed and stopped,
+ Breathless he gazed upon her face,--then took
+ Her hand in his, and raised it, but both dropped,
+ When on his own he cast a rueful look.
+ His ears were never silent; sleep forsook 635
+ His burning eyelids stretched and stiff as lead;
+ All night from time to time under him shook
+ The floor as he lay shuddering on his bed;
+ And oft he groaned aloud, "O God, that I were dead!"
+
+
+LXXII
+
+ The Soldier's Widow lingered in the cot; 640
+ And, when he rose, he thanked her pious care
+ Through which his Wife, to that kind shelter brought,
+ Died in his arms; and with those thanks a prayer
+ He breathed for her, and for that merciful pair.
+ The corse interred, not one hour he remained 645
+ Beneath their roof, but to the open air
+ A burthen, now with fortitude sustained,
+ He bore within a breast where dreadful quiet reigned.
+
+
+LXXIII
+
+ Confirmed of purpose, fearlessly prepared
+ For act and suffering, to the city straight 650
+ He journeyed, and forthwith his crime declared:
+ "And from your doom," he added, "now I wait,
+ Nor let it linger long, the murderer's fate."
+ Not ineffectual was that piteous claim:
+ "O welcome sentence which will end though late," 655
+ He said, "the pangs that to my conscience came
+ Out of that deed. My trust, Saviour! is in thy name!"
+
+
+LXXIV
+
+ His fate was pitied. Him in iron case
+ (Reader, forgive the intolerable thought)
+ They hung not:--no one on _his_ form or face 660
+ Could gaze, as on a show by idlers sought;
+ No kindred sufferer, to his death-place brought
+ By lawless curiosity or chance,
+ When into storm the evening sky is wrought,
+ Upon his swinging corse an eye can glance, 665
+ And drop, as he once dropped, in miserable trance.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1845.
+
+ Three years ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... rose and pursued ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... demoniac ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1845.
+
+ Than he who now at night-fall treads thy bare domain! 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1845.
+
+ And, from its perilous shelter driven, ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 6: The following stanza was only in the editions of 1798 and
+1800:
+
+ By Derwent's side my Father's cottage stood,
+ (The Woman thus her artless story told)
+ One field, a flock, and what the neighbouring flood
+ Supplied, to him were more than mines of gold.
+ Light was my sleep; my days in transport roll'd:
+ With thoughtless joy I stretch'd along the shore
+ My father's nets, or watched, when from the fold
+ High o'er the cliffs I led my fleecy store,
+ A dizzy depth below! his boat and twinkling oar. 1798.
+
+ ... or from the mountain fold
+ Saw on the distant lake his twinkling oar
+ Or watch'd his lazy boat still less'ning more and more. 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1842.
+
+ My father was a good and pious man,
+ An honest man by honest parents bred, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8: Stanzas XXIV. and XXV. were omitted from the editions of
+1802 and 1805. They were restored in 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1842.
+
+ Can I forget what charms did once adorn
+ My garden, stored with pease, and mint, and thyme,
+ And rose and lilly for the sabbath morn?
+ The sabbath bells, and their delightful chime;
+ The gambols and wild freaks at shearing time;
+ My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;
+ The cowslip-gathering at May's dewy prime;
+ The swans, that, when I sought the water-side,
+ From far to meet me came, spreading their snowy pride. 1798.
+
+ Can I forget our croft and plot of corn;
+ Our garden, stored ... 1836.
+
+ The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime; 1820.
+
+ The swans, that with white chests upheaved in pride,
+ Rushing and racing came to meet me at the waterside. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1842.
+
+ ... yet ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1802.
+
+ When ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1836.
+
+ My watchful dog, whose starts of furious ire,
+ When stranger passed, so often I have check'd; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... would ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... summer ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1845.
+
+ The suns of twenty summers danced along,--
+ Ah! little marked, how fast they rolled away:
+ Then rose a mansion proud our woods among,
+ And cottage after cottage owned its sway,
+ No joy to see a neighbouring house, or stray
+ Through pastures not his own, the master took;
+ My Father dared his greedy wish gainsay;
+ He loved his old hereditary nook,
+ And ill could I the thought of such sad parting brook. 1798.
+
+ Then rose a stately hall our woods among, 1800.
+
+ ... how fast they rolled away:
+ But, through severe mischance, and cruel wrong,
+ My father's substance fell into decay;
+ We toiled, and struggled--hoping for a day
+ When Fortune should put on a kinder look;
+ But vain were wishes--efforts vain as they:
+ He from his old hereditary nook
+ Must part,--the summons came,--our final leave we took. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 16: The following stanza occurs only in the editions 1798 to
+1805:
+
+ But, when he had refused the proffered gold,
+ To cruel injuries he became a prey,
+ Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:
+ His troubles grew upon him day by day,
+ Till all his substance fell into decay.
+ His little range of water was denied; [i]
+ All but the bed where his old body lay,
+ All, all was seized, and weeping, side by side,
+ We sought a home where we uninjured might abide. 1798.
+
+ And all his substance fell into decay.
+ They dealt most hardly with him, and he tried
+ To move their hearts--but it was vain--for they
+ Seized all he had; and, weeping ... 1802-5.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1820.
+
+ Can I forget that miserable hour, 1798.
+
+ It was in truth a lamentable hour 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1798.
+
+ I saw our own dear home, that was ... 1802.
+
+The edition of 1820 returns to the text of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... many and many a song 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... little birds ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1836.
+
+ His father said, that to a distant town
+ He must repair, to ply the artist's trade. 1798.
+
+ Two years were pass'd, since to a distant Town
+ He had repair'd to ply the artist's trade. 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 22:
+
+1802.
+
+ Four years each day with daily bread was blest,
+ By constant toil and constant prayer supplied. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1836.
+
+ Three lovely infants lay upon my breast; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 24:
+
+1842.
+
+ When sad distress... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 25:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... from him the grave did hide 1798.
+
+ ... for him ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 26:
+
+1798.
+
+ ... which ... Only in 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 27:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... could ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 28:
+
+1798.
+
+ But soon, day after day, ... 1802.
+
+The edition of 1820 reverts to the reading of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 29:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... to sweep ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 30:
+
+1836.
+
+ There foul neglect for months and months we bore,
+ Nor yet the crowded fleet its anchor stirred. 1798.
+
+ There, long were we neglected, and we bore
+ Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weigh'd; 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 31:
+
+1802.
+
+ Green fields before us and our native shore,
+ By fever, from polluted air incurred,
+ Ravage was made, for which no knell was heard.
+ Fondly we wished, and wished away, nor knew,
+ 'Mid that long sickness, and those hopes deferr'd, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 32:
+
+1802.
+
+ But from delay the summer calms were past. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 33:
+
+1802.
+
+ We gazed with terror on the gloomy sleep
+ Of them that perished in the whirlwind's sweep, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 34:
+
+ Oh! dreadful price of being to resign
+ All that is dear _in_ being! better far
+ In Want's most lonely cave till death to pine,
+ Unseen, unheard, unwatched by any star;
+ Or in the streets and walks where proud men are,
+ Better our dying bodies to obtrude,
+ Than dog-like, wading at the heels of war,
+ Protract a curst existence, with the brood
+ That lap (their very nourishment!) their brother's blood.
+
+Only in the editions of 1798 and 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 35:
+
+1842.
+
+ It would thy brain unsettle even to hear. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 36:
+
+1842.
+
+ Peaceful as some immeasurable plain
+ By the first beams of dawning light impress'd, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 37:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... has its hour of rest,
+ That comes not to the human mourner's breast. 1798.
+
+ I too was calm, though heavily distress'd! 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 38:
+
+1842.
+
+ Remote from man, and storms of mortal care,
+ A heavenly silence did the waves invest;
+ I looked and looked along the silent air,
+ Until it seemed to bring a joy to my despair. 1798.
+
+ Oh me, how quiet sky and ocean were!
+ My heart was healed within me, I was bless'd.
+ And looked, and looked ... 1802.
+
+ My heart was hushed within me, ... 1815.
+
+ As quiet all within me, ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 39:
+
+1800.
+
+ Where looks inhuman dwelt on festering heaps! 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 40: The following stanza appeared only in the editions
+1798-1805:
+
+ Yet does that burst of woe congeal my frame,
+ When the dark streets appeared to heave and gape,
+ While like a sea the storming army came,
+ And Fire from Hell reared his gigantic shape,
+ And Murder, by the ghastly gleam, and Rape
+ Seized their joint prey, the mother and the child!
+ But from these crazing thoughts my brain, escape!
+ --For weeks the balmy air breathed soft and mild,
+ And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. 1798.
+
+ At midnight once the storming Army came,
+ Yet do I see the miserable sight,
+ The Bayonet, the Soldier, and the Flame
+ That followed us and faced us in our flight:
+ When Rape and Murder by the ghastly light
+ Seized their joint prey, the Mother and the Child!
+ But I must leave these thoughts.--From night to night,
+ From day to day, the air breathed soft and mild;
+ And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. 1802-5.]
+
+
+[Variant 41:
+
+1802.
+
+ And oft, robb'd of my perfect mind, I thought
+ At last my feet a resting-place had found:
+ Here will I weep in peace, (so fancy wrought,) 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 42:
+
+1842.
+
+ Here watch, of every human friend disowned,
+ All day, my ready tomb the ocean-flood-- 1798.
+
+ Here will I live:--of every friend disown'd,
+ Here will I roam about the ocean flood.-- 1802.
+
+ And end my days upon the ocean flood."-- 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 43:
+
+1842.
+
+ By grief enfeebled was I turned adrift,
+ Helpless as sailor cast on desart rock; 1798.
+
+ Helpless as sailor cast on some bare rock; 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 44:
+
+1842.
+
+ Nor dared ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 45:
+
+1802.
+
+ How dismal ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 46:
+
+1832.
+
+ ... frame ... 1798.]
+
+[Variant 47:
+
+1836.
+
+ So passed another day, and so the third:
+ Then did I try, in vain, the crowd's resort, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 48:
+
+1827.
+
+ Dizzy my brain, with interruption short 1798.
+
+ And I had many interruptions short 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 49:
+
+1802.
+
+ ... sunk ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 50:
+
+1827.
+
+ And thence was borne away to neighbouring hospital. 1798.
+
+ And thence was carried to a neighbouring Hospital. 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 51:
+
+1827.
+
+ Recovery came with food: but still, my brain
+ Was weak, nor of the past had memory. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 52:
+
+1842.
+
+ ... with careless cruelty, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 53:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... would ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 54:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... torpid ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 55:
+
+1827.
+
+ Memory, though slow, returned with strength; ... 1798.
+
+ My memory and my strength returned; ... 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 56:
+
+1802.
+
+ The wild brood ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 57: The following stanza occurs only in the editions of 1798 to
+1805:
+
+ My heart is touched to think that men like these,
+ The rude earth's tenants, were my first relief:
+ How kindly did they paint their vagrant ease!
+ And their long holiday that feared not grief,
+ For all belonged to all, and each was chief.
+ No plough their sinews strained; on grating road
+ No wain they drove, and yet, the yellow sheaf
+ In every vale for their delight was stowed:
+ For them, in nature's meads, the milky udder flowed. 1798.
+
+ My heart is touched to think that men like these,
+ Wild houseless Wanderers, were my first relief: 1802.
+
+ In every field, with milk their dairy overflow'd. 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 58:
+
+1836.
+
+ Semblance, with straw and pannier'd ass, they made
+ Of potters wandering on from door to door:
+ But life of happier sort to me pourtrayed, 1798.
+
+ They with their pannier'd Asses semblance made
+ Of Potters ... 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 59:
+
+1836.
+
+ In depth of forest glade, when ... 1798.
+
+ Among the forest glades when ... 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 60:
+
+1802.
+
+ But ill it suited me, in journey dark 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 61:
+
+1802.
+
+ Poor father! ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 62:
+
+1842.
+
+ Ill was I ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 63:
+
+1842.
+
+ With tears whose course no effort could confine,
+ By high-way side forgetful would I sit 1798.
+
+ By the road-side forgetful would I sit 1802.
+
+ In the open air forgetful ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 64:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... my ... 1798.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 65:
+
+1836.
+
+ I lived upon the mercy of the fields,
+ And oft of cruelty the sky accused;
+ On hazard, or what general bounty yields, 1798.
+
+ I led a wandering life among the fields;
+ Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
+ I liv'd upon what casual bounty yields, 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 66:
+
+1802.
+
+ The fields ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 67:
+
+1836.
+
+ Three years a wanderer, often have I view'd,
+ In tears, the sun towards that country tend 1798.
+
+ Three years thus wandering, ... 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 68:
+
+1836.
+
+ And now across this moor my steps I bend-- 1798.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES
+
+
+[Footnote A: In the 'Prelude', he says it was "three summer days." See
+book xiii. l. 337.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this
+edition (1840). See p. 37.--Ed.[Footnote D of 'Descriptive Sketches',
+the preceding poem in this text.]]
+
+
+[Footnote C: 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.
+
+Charles Farish was the author of 'The Minstrels of Winandermere'.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: Compare Milton's "grinding sword," 'Paradise Lost', vi. l.
+329.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: 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.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+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] A BEAUTIFUL
+PROSPECT
+
+
+Composed 1795.--Published 1798
+
+
+ [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. Induced by the
+ beauty of the prospect, he built a small summer-house, on the rocks
+ above the peninsula on which the Ferry House [B] 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 'Guide', 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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
+ Far from all human dwelling: what if here
+ No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?
+ What if the bee love not these barren boughs? [1]
+ Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves, 5
+ That break against the shore, shall lull thy mind
+ By one soft impulse saved from vacancy.
+ Who he was
+ That piled these stones and with the mossy sod
+ First covered, and here taught this aged Tree [2] 10
+ With its dark arms to form a circling bower, [3]
+ I well remember.--He was one who owned
+ No common soul. In youth by science nursed,
+ And led by nature into a wild scene
+ Of lofty hopes, he to the world went forth 15
+ A favoured Being, knowing no desire
+ Which genius did not hallow; 'gainst the taint
+ Of dissolute tongues, and jealousy, and hate,
+ And scorn,--against all enemies prepared,
+ All but neglect. The world, for so it thought, 20
+ Owed him no service; wherefore he at once
+ With indignation turned himself away, [4]
+ And with the food of pride sustained his soul
+ In solitude.--Stranger! these gloomy boughs
+ Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit, 25
+ His only visitants a straggling sheep,
+ The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper: [5]
+ And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath,
+ And juniper and thistle, sprinkled o'er, [6]
+ Fixing his downcast [7] eye, he many an hour 30
+ A morbid pleasure nourished, tracing here
+ An emblem of his own unfruitful life:
+ And, lifting up his head, he then would gaze
+ On the more distant scene,--how lovely 'tis
+ Thou seest,--and he would gaze till it became 35
+ Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain
+ The beauty, still more beauteous! Nor, that time,
+ When nature had subdued him to herself, [8]
+ Would he forget those Beings to whose minds
+ Warm from the labours of benevolence 40
+ The world, and human life, [9] appeared a scene
+ Of kindred loveliness: then he would sigh,
+ Inly disturbed, to think [10] that others felt
+ What he must never feel: and so, lost Man!
+ On visionary views would fancy feed, 45
+ Till his eye streamed with tears. In this deep vale
+ He died,--this seat his only monument.
+ If Thou be one whose heart the holy forms
+ Of young imagination have kept pure,
+ Stranger! henceforth be warned; and know that pride, 50
+ Howe'er disguised in its own majesty,
+ Is littleness; that he who feels contempt
+ For any living thing, hath faculties
+ Which he has never used; that thought with him
+ Is in its infancy. The man whose eye 55
+ Is ever on himself doth look on one,
+ The least of Nature's works, one who might move
+ The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds
+ Unlawful, ever. O be wiser, Thou!
+ Instructed that true knowledge leads to love; 60
+ True dignity abides with him alone
+ Who, in the silent hour of inward thought,
+ Can still suspect, and still revere himself,
+ In lowliness of heart.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1832.
+
+ What if these barren boughs the bee not loves; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ First covered o'er, and taught this aged tree, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1800.
+
+ Now wild, to bend its arms in circling shade, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1802.
+
+ ... In youth, by genius nurs'd,
+ And big with lofty views, he to the world
+ Went forth, pure in his heart, against the taint
+ Of dissolute tongues, 'gainst jealousy, and hate,
+ And scorn, against all enemies prepared,
+ All but neglect: and so, his spirit damped
+ At once, with rash disdain he turned away, 1798.
+
+ ... The world, for so it thought,
+ Owed him no service: he was like a plant
+ Fair to the sun, the darling of the winds,
+ But hung with fruit which no one, that passed by,
+ Regarded, and, his spirit damped at once,
+ With indignation did he turn away 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1798.
+
+ The stone-chat, or the sand-lark, restless Bird
+ Piping along the margin of the lake; 1815.
+
+ The text of 1820 returned to that of 1798. [i]]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1820.
+
+ And on these barren rocks, with juniper,
+ And heath, and thistle, thinly sprinkled o'er. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... downward [ii] ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8: This line was added by S. T. C. in the edition of 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... and man himself, ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1836.
+
+ With mournful joy, to think ... 1798.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES TO THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: Yet commanding, 1798-1805.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: The Ferry on Windermere.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTES TO THE VARIANTS
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: 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.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote ii: An emendation by S. T. C.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BORDERERS
+
+
+A TRAGEDY
+
+
+Composed 1795-6.--Published 1842
+
+
+ Readers already acquainted with my Poems will recognise, in the
+ following composition, some eight or ten lines, [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.
+
+ February 28, 1842. [B]
+
+
+ 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 had
+ 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. [C]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ [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 'History of the Borders', 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 'Remorse'; 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 _judiciously_ 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 'motiveless' 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.]
+
+
+'The Borderers' was first published in the 1842 edition of
+"Poems, chiefly of Early and Late Years." In 1845, it was
+placed in the class of "Poems written in Youth."--Ed.
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
+
+
+MARMADUKE. \
+OSWALD. |
+WALLACE. |- Of the Band of
+LACY. | Borderers.
+LENNOX. |
+HERBERT. /
+
+WILFRED, Servant to MARMADUKE.
+Host.
+Forester.
+ELDRED, a Peasant.
+Peasant, Pilgrims, etc.
+
+IDONEA.
+Female Beggar.
+ELEANOR, Wife to ELDRED.
+
+
+
+
+SCENE--Borders of England and Scotland
+
+TIME--The Reign of Henry III.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I
+
+SCENE--Road in a Wood
+
+WALLACE and LACY
+
+
+
+LACY The Troop will be impatient; let us hie
+ Back to our post, and strip the Scottish Foray
+ Of their rich Spoil, ere they recross the Border.
+ ---Pity that our young Chief will have no part
+ In this good service.
+
+
+WALLACE Rather let us grieve
+ That, in the undertaking which has caused
+ His absence, he hath sought, whate'er his aim,
+ Companionship with One of crooked ways,
+ From whose perverted soul can come no good
+ To our confiding, open-hearted, Leader.
+
+
+LACY True; and, remembering how the Band have proved
+ That Oswald finds small favour in our sight,
+ Well may we wonder he has gained such power
+ Over our much-loved Captain.
+
+
+WALLACE I have heard
+ Of some dark deed to which in early life
+ His passion drove him--then a Voyager
+ Upon the midland Sea. You knew his bearing
+ In Palestine?
+
+
+LACY Where he despised alike
+ Mohammedan and Christian. But enough;
+ Let us begone--the Band may else be foiled.
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+[Enter MARMADUKE and WILFRED]
+
+
+WILFRED Be cautious, my dear Master!
+
+
+MARMADUKE I perceive
+ That fear is like a cloak which old men huddle
+ About their love, as if to keep it warm.
+
+
+WILFRED Nay, but I grieve that we should part. This Stranger,
+ For such he is--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Your busy fancies, Wilfred,
+ Might tempt me to a smile; but what of him?
+
+
+WILFRED You know that you have saved his life.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I know it.
+
+
+WILFRED And that he hates you!--Pardon me, perhaps
+ That word was hasty.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Fy! no more of it.
+
+
+WILFRED Dear Master! gratitude's a heavy burden
+ To a proud Soul.--Nobody loves this Oswald--
+ Yourself, you do not love him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I do more,
+ I honour him. Strong feelings to his heart
+ Are natural; and from no one can be learnt
+ More of man's thoughts and ways than his experience
+ Has given him power to teach: and then for courage
+ And enterprise--what perils hath he shunned?
+ What obstacles hath he failed to overcome?
+ Answer these questions, from our common knowledge,
+ And be at rest.
+
+
+WILFRED Oh, Sir!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Peace, my good Wilfred;
+ Repair to Liddesdale, and tell the Band
+ I shall be with them in two days, at farthest.
+
+
+WILFRED May He whose eye is over all protect you!
+
+
+[Exit.]
+
+[Enter OSWALD (a bunch of plants in his hand)]
+
+
+OSWALD This wood is rich in plants and curious simples.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (looking at them)
+ The wild rose, and the poppy, and the nightshade:
+ Which is your favorite, Oswald?
+
+
+OSWALD That which, while it is
+ Strong to destroy, is also strong to heal--
+ [Looking forward.]
+ Not yet in sight!--We'll saunter here awhile;
+ They cannot mount the hill, by us unseen.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (a letter in his hand)
+ It is no common thing when one like you
+ Performs these delicate services, and therefore
+ I feel myself much bounden to you, Oswald;
+ 'Tis a strange letter this!--You saw her write it?
+
+
+OSWALD And saw the tears with which she blotted it.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And nothing less would satisfy him?
+
+
+OSWALD No less;
+ For that another in his Child's affection
+ Should hold a place, as if 'twere robbery,
+ He seemed to quarrel with the very thought.
+ Besides, I know not what strange prejudice
+ Is rooted in his mind; this Band of ours,
+ Which you've collected for the noblest ends,
+ Along the confines of the Esk and Tweed
+ To guard the Innocent--he calls us "Outlaws";
+ And, for yourself, in plain terms he asserts
+ This garb was taken up that indolence
+ Might want no cover, and rapacity
+ Be better fed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ne'er may I own the heart
+ That cannot feel for one, helpless as he is.
+
+
+OSWALD Thou know'st me for a Man not easily moved,
+ Yet was I grievously provoked to think
+ Of what I witnessed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE This day will suffice
+ To end her wrongs.
+
+
+OSWALD But if the blind Man's tale
+ Should _yet_ be true?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Would it were possible!
+ Did not the Soldier tell thee that himself,
+ And others who survived the wreck, beheld
+ The Baron Herbert perish in the waves
+ Upon the coast of Cyprus?
+
+
+OSWALD Yes, even so,
+ And I had heard the like before: in sooth
+ The tale of this his quondam Barony
+ Is cunningly devised; and, on the back
+ Of his forlorn appearance, could not fail
+ To make the proud and vain his tributaries,
+ And stir the pulse of lazy charity.
+ The seignories of Herbert are in Devon;
+ We, neighbours of the Esk and Tweed; 'tis much
+ The Arch-Impostor--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Treat him gently, Oswald:
+ Though I have never seen his face, methinks,
+ There cannot come a day when I shall cease
+ To love him. I remember, when a Boy
+ Of scarcely seven years' growth, beneath the Elm
+ That casts its shade over our village school,
+ 'Twas my delight to sit and hear Idonea
+ Repeat her Father's terrible adventures,
+ Till all the band of play-mates wept together;
+ And that was the beginning of my love.
+ And, through all converse of our later years,
+ An image of this old Man still was present,
+ When I had been most happy. Pardon me
+ If this be idly spoken.
+
+
+OSWALD See, they come,
+ Two Travellers!
+
+
+MARMADUKE (points) The woman [1] is Idonea.
+
+
+OSWALD And leading Herbert.
+
+
+MARMADUKE We must let them pass--
+ This thicket will conceal us.
+
+
+[They step aside.]
+
+[Enter IDONEA, leading HERBERT blind.]
+
+
+IDONEA Dear Father, you sigh deeply; ever since
+ We left the willow shade by the brook-side,
+ Your natural breathing has been troubled.
+
+
+HERBERT Nay,
+ You are too fearful; yet must I confess,
+ Our march of yesterday had better suited
+ A firmer step than mine.
+
+
+IDONEA That dismal Moor--
+ In spite of all the larks that cheered our path,
+ I never can forgive it: but how steadily
+ _You_ paced along, when the bewildering moonlight
+ Mocked me with many a strange fantastic shape!--
+ I thought the Convent never would appear;
+ It seemed to move away from us: and yet,
+ That you are thus the fault is mine; for the air
+ Was soft and warm, no dew lay on the grass,
+ And midway on the waste ere night had fallen
+ I spied a Covert walled and roofed with sods--
+ A miniature; belike some Shepherd-boy,
+ Who might have found a nothing-doing hour
+ Heavier than work, raised it: within that hut
+ We might have made a kindly bed of heath,
+ And thankfully there rested side by side
+ Wrapped in our cloaks, and, with recruited strength,
+ Have hailed the morning sun. But cheerily, Father,--
+ That staff of yours, I could almost have heart
+ To fling't away from you: you make no use
+ Of me, or of my strength;--come, let me feel
+ That you do press upon me. There--indeed
+ You are quite exhausted. Let us rest awhile
+ On this green bank.
+
+
+[He sits down.]
+
+
+HERBERT (after some time)
+ Idonea, you are silent,
+ And I divine the cause.
+
+
+IDONEA Do not reproach me:
+ I pondered patiently your wish and will
+ When I gave way to your request; and now,
+ When I behold the ruins of that face,
+ Those eyeballs dark--dark beyond hope of light,
+ And think that they were blasted for my sake,
+ The name of Marmaduke is blown away:
+ Father, I would not change that sacred feeling
+ For all this world can give.
+
+
+HERBERT Nay, be composed:
+ Few minutes gone a faintness overspread
+ My frame, and I bethought me of two things
+ I ne'er had heart to separate--my grave,
+ And thee, my Child!
+
+
+IDONEA Believe me, honoured Sire!
+ 'Tis weariness that breeds these gloomy fancies,
+ And you mistake the cause: you hear the woods
+ Resound with music, could you see the sun,
+ And look upon the pleasant face of Nature--
+
+
+HERBERT I comprehend thee--I should be as cheerful
+ As if we two were twins; two songsters bred
+ In the same nest, my spring-time one with thine.
+ My fancies, fancies if they be, are such
+ As come, dear Child! from a far deeper source
+ Than bodily weariness. While here we sit
+ I feel my strength returning.--The bequest
+ Of thy kind Patroness, which to receive
+ We have thus far adventured, will suffice
+ To save thee from the extreme of penury;
+ But when thy Father must lie down and die,
+ How wilt thou stand alone?
+
+
+IDONEA Is he not strong?
+ Is he not valiant?
+
+
+HERBERT Am I then so soon
+ Forgotten? have my warnings passed so quickly
+ Out of thy mind? My dear, my only, Child;
+ Thou wouldst be leaning on a broken reed--
+ This Marmaduke--
+
+
+IDONEA O could you hear his voice:
+ Alas! you do not know him. He is one
+ (I wot not what ill tongue has wronged him with you)
+ All gentleness and love. His face bespeaks
+ A deep and simple meekness: and that Soul,
+ Which with the motion of a virtuous act
+ Flashes a look of terror upon guilt,
+ Is, after conflict, quiet as the ocean,
+ By a miraculous finger, stilled at once.
+
+
+HERBERT Unhappy Woman!
+
+
+IDONEA Nay, it was my duty
+ Thus much to speak; but think not I forget--
+ Dear Father! how _could_ I forget and live--
+ You and the story of that doleful night
+ When, Antioch blazing to her topmost towers,
+ You rushed into the murderous flames, returned
+ Blind as the grave, but, as you oft have told me,
+ Clasping your infant Daughter to your heart.
+
+
+HERBERT Thy Mother too!--scarce had I gained the door,
+ I caught her voice; she threw herself upon me,
+ I felt thy infant brother in her arms;
+ She saw my blasted face--a tide of soldiers
+ That instant rushed between us, and I heard
+ Her last death-shriek, distinct among a thousand.
+
+
+IDONEA Nay, Father, stop not; let me hear it all.
+
+
+HERBERT Dear Daughter! precious relic of that time--
+ For my old age, it doth remain with thee
+ To make it what thou wilt. Thou hast been told,
+ That when, on our return from Palestine,
+ I found how my domains had been usurped,
+ I took thee in my arms, and we began
+ Our wanderings together. Providence
+ At length conducted us to Rossland,--there,
+ Our melancholy story moved a Stranger
+ To take thee to her home--and for myself,
+ Soon after, the good Abbot of St. Cuthbert's
+ Supplied my helplessness with food and raiment,
+ And, as thou know'st, gave me that humble Cot
+ Where now we dwell.--For many years I bore
+ Thy absence, till old age and fresh infirmities
+ Exacted thy return, and our reunion.
+ I did not think that, during that long absence,
+ My Child, forgetful of the name of Herbert,
+ Had given her love to a wild Freebooter,
+ Who here, upon the borders of the Tweed,
+ Doth prey alike on two distracted Countries,
+ Traitor to both.
+
+
+IDONEA Oh, could you hear his voice!
+ I will not call on Heaven to vouch for me,
+ But let this kiss speak what is in my heart.
+
+
+[Enter a Peasant]
+
+
+PEASANT Good morrow, Strangers! If you want a Guide,
+ Let me have leave to serve you!
+
+
+IDONEA My Companion
+ Hath need of rest; the sight of Hut or Hostel
+ Would be most welcome.
+
+
+PEASANT Yon white hawthorn gained,
+ You will look down into a dell, and there
+ Will see an ash from which a sign-board hangs;
+ The house is hidden by the shade. Old Man,
+ You seem worn out with travel--shall I support you?
+
+
+HERBERT I thank you; but, a resting-place so near,
+ 'Twere wrong to trouble you.
+
+
+PEASANT God speed you both.
+
+
+[Exit Peasant.]
+
+
+HERBERT Idonea, we must part. Be not alarmed--
+ 'Tis but for a few days--a thought has struck me.
+
+
+IDONEA That I should leave you at this house, and thence
+ Proceed alone. It shall be so; for strength
+ Would fail you ere our journey's end be reached.
+
+
+[Exit HERBERT supported by IDONEA.]
+
+[Re-enter MARMADUKE and OSWALD]
+
+
+MARMADUKE This instant will we stop him--
+
+
+OSWALD Be not hasty,
+ For, sometimes, in despite of my conviction,
+ He tempted me to think the Story true;
+ 'Tis plain he loves the Maid, and what he said
+ That savoured of aversion to thy name
+ Appeared the genuine colour of his soul--
+ Anxiety lest mischief should befal her
+ After his death.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ I have been much deceived.
+
+
+OSWALD But sure he loves the Maiden, and never love
+ Could find delight to nurse itself so strangely,
+ Thus to torment her with _inventions!_--death--
+ There must be truth in this.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Truth in his story!
+ He must have felt it then, known what it was,
+ And in such wise to rack her gentle heart
+ Had been a tenfold cruelty.
+
+
+OSWALD Strange pleasures
+ Do we poor mortals cater for ourselves!
+ To see him thus provoke her tenderness
+ With tales of weakness and infirmity!
+ I'd wager on his life for twenty years.
+
+
+MARMADUKE We will not waste an hour in such a cause.
+
+
+OSWALD Why, this is noble! shake her off at once.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Her virtues are his instruments.--A Man
+ Who has so practised on the world's cold sense,
+ May well deceive his Child--what! leave her thus,
+ A prey to a deceiver?--no--no--no--
+ 'Tis but a word and then--
+
+
+OSWALD Something is here
+ More than we see, or whence this strong aversion?
+ Marmaduke! I suspect unworthy tales
+ Have reached his ear--you have had enemies.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Enemies!--of his own coinage.
+
+
+OSWALD That may be,
+ But wherefore slight protection such as you
+ Have power to yield? perhaps he looks elsewhere.--
+ I am perplexed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What hast thou heard or seen?
+
+
+OSWALD No--no--the thing stands clear of mystery;
+ (As you have said) he coins himself the slander
+ With which he taints her ear;--for a plain reason;
+ He dreads the presence of a virtuous man
+ Like you; he knows your eye would search his heart,
+ Your justice stamp upon his evil deeds
+ The punishment they merit. All is plain:
+ It cannot be--
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ What cannot be?
+
+
+OSWALD Yet that a Father
+ Should in his love admit no rivalship,
+ And torture thus the heart of his own Child--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Nay, you abuse my friendship!
+
+
+OSWALD Heaven forbid!--
+ There was a circumstance, trifling indeed--
+ It struck me at the time--yet I believe
+ I never should have thought of it again
+ But for the scene which we by chance have witnessed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What is your meaning?
+
+
+OSWALD Two days gone I saw,
+ Though at a distance and he was disguised,
+ Hovering round Herbert's door, a man whose figure
+ Resembled much that cold voluptuary,
+ The villain, Clifford. He hates you, and he knows
+ Where he can stab you deepest.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Clifford never
+ Would stoop to skulk about a Cottage door--
+ It could not be.
+
+
+OSWALD And yet I now remember,
+ That, when your praise was warm upon my tongue,
+ And the blind Man was told how you had rescued
+ A maiden from the ruffian violence
+ Of this same Clifford, he became impatient
+ And would not hear me.
+
+
+MARMADUKE No--it cannot be--
+ I dare not trust myself with such a thought--
+ Yet whence this strange aversion? You are a man
+ Not used to rash conjectures--
+
+
+OSWALD If you deem it
+ A thing worth further notice, we must act
+ With caution, sift the matter artfully.
+
+
+[Exeunt MARMADUKE and OSWALD.]
+
+
+SCENE--The door of the Hostel
+
+HERBERT, IDONEA, and Host
+
+
+HERBERT (seated)
+ As I am dear to you, remember, Child!
+ This last request.
+
+
+IDONEA You know me, Sire; farewell!
+
+
+HERBERT And are you going then? Come, come, Idonea,
+ We must not part,--I have measured many a league
+ When these old limbs had need of rest,--and now
+ I will not play the sluggard.
+
+
+IDONEA Nay, sit down.
+ [Turning to Host.
+ Good Host, such tendance as you would expect
+ From your own Children, if yourself were sick,
+ Let this old Man find at your hands; poor Leader,
+ [_Looking at the dog_.
+ We soon shall meet again. If thou neglect
+ This charge of thine, then ill befall thee!--Look,
+ The little fool is loth to stay behind.
+ Sir Host! by all the love you bear to courtesy,
+ Take care of him, and feed the truant well.
+
+
+HOST Fear not, I will obey you;--but One so young,
+ And One so fair, it goes against my heart
+ That you should travel unattended, Lady!--
+ I have a palfrey and a groom: the lad
+ Shall squire you, (would it not be better, Sir?)
+ And for less fee than I would let him run
+ For any lady I have seen this twelvemonth.
+
+
+IDONEA You know, Sir, I have been too long your guard
+ Not to have learnt to laugh at little fears.
+ Why, if a wolf should leap from out a thicket,
+ A look of mine would send him scouring back,
+ Unless I differ from the thing I am
+ When you are by my side.
+
+
+HERBERT Idonea, wolves
+ Are not the enemies that move my fears.
+
+
+IDONEA No more, I pray, of this. Three days at farthest
+ Will bring me back--protect him, Saints--farewell!
+
+
+[Exit IDONEA.]
+
+
+HOST 'Tis never drought with us--St. Cuthbert and his Pilgrims,
+ Thanks to them, are to us a stream of comfort:
+ Pity the Maiden did not wait awhile;
+ She could not, Sir, have failed of company.
+
+
+HERBERT Now she is gone, I fain would call her back.
+
+
+HOST (calling) Holla!
+
+
+HERBERT No, no, the business must be done.--
+ What means this riotous noise?
+
+HOST The villagers
+ Are flocking in--a wedding festival--
+ That's all--God save you, Sir.
+
+
+[Enter OSWALD]
+
+
+OSWALD Ha! as I live,
+ The Baron Herbert.
+
+
+HOST Mercy, the Baron Herbert!
+
+
+OSWALD So far into your journey! on my life,
+ You are a lusty Traveller. But how fare you?
+
+
+HERBERT Well as the wreck I am permits. And you, Sir?
+
+
+OSWALD I do not see Idonea.
+
+
+HERBERT Dutiful Girl,
+ She is gone before, to spare my weariness.
+ But what has brought you hither?
+
+
+OSWALD A slight affair,
+ That will be soon despatched.
+
+
+HERBERT Did Marmaduke
+ Receive that letter?
+
+
+OSWALD Be at peace.--The tie
+ Is broken, you will hear no more of _him_.
+
+
+HERBERT This is true comfort, thanks a thousand times!--
+ That noise!--would I had gone with her as far
+ As the Lord Clifford's Castle: I have heard
+ That, in his milder moods, he has expressed
+ Compassion for me. His influence is great
+ With Henry, our good King;--the Baron might
+ Have heard my suit, and urged my plea at Court.
+ No matter--he's a dangerous Man.--That noise!--
+ 'Tis too disorderly for sleep or rest.
+ Idonea would have fears for me,--the Convent
+ Will give me quiet lodging. You have a boy, good Host,
+ And he must lead me back.
+
+
+OSWALD You are most lucky;
+ I have been waiting in the wood hard by
+ For a companion--here he comes; our journey
+ [Enter MARMADUKE]
+ Lies on your way; accept us as your Guides.
+
+
+HERBERT Alas! I creep so slowly.
+
+
+OSWALD Never fear;
+ We'll not complain of that.
+
+
+HERBERT My limbs are stiff
+ And need repose. Could you but wait an hour?
+
+
+OSWALD Most willingly!--Come, let me lead you in,
+ And, while you take your rest, think not of us;
+ We'll stroll into the wood; lean on my arm.
+
+
+[Conducts HERBERT into the house. Exit MARMADUKE.]
+
+[Enter Villagers]
+
+
+OSWALD (to himself, coming out of the Hostel)
+ I have prepared a most apt Instrument--
+ The Vagrant must, no doubt, be loitering somewhere
+ About this ground; she hath a tongue well skilled,
+ By mingling natural matter of her own
+ With all the daring fictions I have taught her,
+ To win belief, such as my plot requires.
+
+
+[Exit OSWALD.]
+
+[Enter more Villagers, a Musician among them]
+
+
+HOST (to them)
+ Into the court, my Friend, and perch yourself
+ Aloft upon the elm-tree. Pretty Maids,
+ Garlands and flowers, and cakes and merry thoughts,
+ Are here, to send the sun into the west
+ More speedily than you belike would wish.
+
+
+SCENE changes to the Wood adjoining the Hostel--
+
+[MARMADUKE and OSWALD entering]
+
+
+MARMADUKE I would fain hope that we deceive ourselves:
+ When first I saw him sitting there, alone,
+ It struck upon my heart I know not how.
+
+
+OSWALD To-day will clear up all.--You marked a Cottage,
+ That ragged Dwelling, close beneath a rock
+ By the brook-side: it is the abode of One,
+ A Maiden innocent till ensnared by Clifford,
+ Who soon grew weary of her; but, alas!
+ What she had seen and suffered turned her brain.
+ Cast off by her Betrayer, she dwells alone,
+ Nor moves her hands to any needful work:
+ She eats her food which every day the peasants
+ Bring to her hut; and so the Wretch has lived
+ Ten years; and no one ever heard her voice;
+ But every night at the first stroke of twelve
+ She quits her house, and, in the neighbouring Churchyard
+ Upon the self-same spot, in rain or storm,
+ She paces out the hour 'twixt twelve and one--
+ She paces round and round an Infant's grave,
+ And in the Churchyard sod her feet have worn
+ A hollow ring; they say it is knee-deep--
+ Ah! [1] what is here?
+
+
+[A female Beggar rises up, rubbing her eyes as if in sleep--a Child in
+her arms.]
+
+
+BEGGAR O Gentlemen, I thank you;
+ I've had the saddest dream that ever troubled
+ The heart of living creature.--My poor Babe
+ Was crying, as I thought, crying for bread
+ When I had none to give him; whereupon,
+ I put a slip of foxglove in his hand,
+ Which pleased him so, that he was hushed at once:
+ When, into one of those same spotted bells
+ A bee came darting, which the Child with joy
+ Imprisoned there, and held it to his ear,
+ And suddenly grew black, as he would die.
+
+
+MARMADUKE We have no time for this, my babbling Gossip;
+ Here's what will comfort you.
+ [Gives her money.]
+
+
+BEGGAR The Saints reward you
+ For this good deed!--Well, Sirs, this passed away;
+ And afterwards I fancied, a strange dog,
+ Trotting alone along the beaten road,
+ Came to my child as by my side he slept
+ And, fondling, licked his face, then on a sudden
+ Snapped fierce to make a morsel of his head:
+ But here he is,
+ [kissing the Child]
+ it must have been a dream.
+
+
+OSWALD When next inclined to sleep, take my advice,
+ And put your head, good Woman, under cover.
+
+
+BEGGAR Oh, Sir, you would not talk thus, if you knew
+ What life is this of ours, how sleep will master
+ The weary-worn.--You gentlefolk have got
+ Warm chambers to your wish. I'd rather be
+ A stone than what I am.--But two nights gone,
+ The darkness overtook me--wind and rain
+ Beat hard upon my head--and yet I saw
+ A glow-worm, through the covert of the furze,
+ Shine calmly as if nothing ailed the sky:
+ At which I half accused the God in Heaven.--
+ You must forgive me.
+
+
+OSWALD Ay, and if you think
+ The Fairies are to blame, and you should chide
+ Your favourite saint--no matter--this good day
+ Has made amends.
+
+
+BEGGAR Thanks to you both; but, Oh Sir!
+ How would you like to travel on whole hours
+ As I have done, my eyes upon the ground,
+ Expecting still, I knew not how, to find
+ A piece of money glittering through the dust.
+
+
+MARMADUKE This woman is a prater. Pray, good Lady!
+ Do you tell fortunes?
+
+
+BEGGAR Oh Sir, you are like the rest.
+ This Little-one--it cuts me to the heart--
+ Well! they might turn a beggar from their doors,
+ But there are Mothers who can see the Babe
+ Here at my breast, and ask me where I bought it:
+ This they can do, and look upon my face--
+ But you, Sir, should be kinder.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Come hither, Fathers,
+ And learn what nature is from this poor Wretch!
+
+
+BEGGAR Ay, Sir, there's nobody that feels for us.
+ Why now--but yesterday I overtook
+ A blind old Greybeard and accosted him,
+ I' th' name of all the Saints, and by the Mass
+ He should have used me better!--Charity!
+ If you can melt a rock, he is your man;
+ But I'll be even with him--here again
+ Have I been waiting for him.
+
+
+OSWALD Well, but softly,
+ Who is it that hath wronged you?
+
+
+BEGGAR Mark you me;
+ I'll point him out;--a Maiden is his guide,
+ Lovely as Spring's first rose; a little dog,
+ Tied by a woollen cord, moves on before
+ With look as sad as he were dumb; the cur,
+ I owe him no ill will, but in good sooth
+ He does his Master credit.
+
+
+MARMADUKE As I live,
+ 'Tis Herbert and no other!
+
+
+BEGGAR 'Tis a feast to see him,
+ Lank as a ghost and tall, his shoulders bent,
+ And long beard white with age--yet evermore,
+ As if he were the only Saint on earth,
+ He turns his face to heaven.
+
+
+OSWALD But why so violent
+ Against this venerable Man?
+
+
+BEGGAR I'll tell you:
+ He has the very hardest heart on earth;
+ I had as lief turn to the Friar's school
+ And knock for entrance, in mid holiday.
+
+
+MARMADUKE But to your story.
+
+
+BEGGAR I was saying, Sir--
+ Well!--he has often spurned me like a toad,
+ But yesterday was worse than all;--at last
+ I overtook him, Sirs, my Babe and I,
+ And begged a little aid for charity:
+ But he was snappish as a cottage cur.
+ Well then, says I--I'll out with it; at which
+ I cast a look upon the Girl, and felt
+ As if my heart would burst; and so I left him.
+
+
+OSWALD I think, good Woman, you are the very person
+ Whom, but some few days past, I saw in Eskdale,
+ At Herbert's door.
+
+
+BEGGAR Ay; and if truth were known
+ I have good business there.
+
+
+OSWALD I met you at the threshold,
+ And he seemed angry.
+
+
+BEGGAR Angry! well he might;
+ And long as I can stir I'll dog him.--Yesterday,
+ To serve me so, and knowing that he owes
+ The best of all he has to me and mine.
+ But 'tis all over now.--That good old Lady
+ Has left a power of riches; and I say it,
+ If there's a lawyer in the land, the knave
+ Shall give me half.
+
+
+OSWALD What's this?--I fear, good Woman,
+ You have been insolent.
+
+
+BEGGAR And there's the Baron,
+ I spied him skulking in his peasant's dress.
+
+
+OSWALD How say you? in disguise?--
+
+
+MARMADUKE But what's your business
+ With Herbert or his Daughter?
+
+
+BEGGAR Daughter! truly--
+ But how's the day?--I fear, my little Boy,
+ We've overslept ourselves.--Sirs, have you seen him?
+ [Offers to go.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE I must have more of this;--you shall not stir
+ An inch, till I am answered. Know you aught
+ That doth concern this Herbert?
+
+
+BEGGAR You are provoked,
+ And will misuse me, Sir!
+
+
+MARMADUKE No trifling, Woman!--
+
+
+OSWALD You are as safe as in a sanctuary;
+ Speak.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Speak!
+
+
+BEGGAR He is a most hard-hearted Man.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Your life is at my mercy.
+
+
+BEGGAR Do not harm me,
+ And I will tell you all!--You know not, Sir,
+ What strong temptations press upon the Poor.
+
+
+OSWALD Speak out.
+
+
+BEGGAR O Sir, I've been a wicked Woman.
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, but speak out!
+
+
+BEGGAR He flattered me, and said
+ What harvest it would bring us both; and so,
+ I parted with the Child.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Parted with whom? [3]
+
+
+BEGGAR Idonea, as he calls her; but the Girl
+ Is mine.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Yours, Woman! are you Herbert's wife?
+
+
+BEGGAR Wife, Sir! his wife--not I; my husband, Sir,
+ Was of Kirkoswald--many a snowy winter
+ We've weathered out together. My poor Gilfred!
+ He has been two years in his grave.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Enough.
+
+
+OSWALD We've solved the riddle--Miscreant!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Do you,
+ Good Dame, repair to Liddesdale and wait
+ For my return; be sure you shall have justice.
+
+
+OSWALD A lucky woman!--go, you have done good service.
+ [Aside.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to himself)
+ Eternal praises on the power that saved her!--
+
+
+OSWALD (gives her money)
+ Here's for your little boy--and when you christen him
+ I'll be his Godfather.
+
+BEGGAR O Sir, you are merry with me.
+ In grange or farm this Hundred scarcely owns
+ A dog that does not know me.--These good Folks,
+ For love of God, I must not pass their doors;
+ But I'll be back with my best speed: for you--
+ God bless and thank you both, my gentle Masters.
+
+
+ [Exit Beggar.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to himself)
+ The cruel Viper!--Poor devoted Maid,
+ Now I _do_ love thee.
+
+
+OSWALD I am thunderstruck.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Where is she--holla!
+ [Calling to the Beggar, who returns; he looks at her stedfastly.]
+ You are Idonea's Mother?--
+ Nay, be not terrified--it does me good
+ To look upon you.
+
+
+OSWALD (interrupting)
+ In a peasant's dress
+ You saw, who was it?
+
+
+BEGGAR Nay, I dare not speak;
+ He is a man, if it should come to his ears
+ I never shall be heard of more.
+
+OSWALD Lord Clifford?
+
+
+BEGGAR What can I do? believe me, gentle Sirs,
+ I love her, though I dare not call her daughter.
+
+
+OSWALD Lord Clifford--did you see him talk with Herbert?
+
+
+BEGGAR Yes, to my sorrow--under the great oak
+ At Herbert's door--and when he stood beside
+ The blind Man--at the silent Girl he looked
+ With such a look--it makes me tremble, Sir,
+ To think of it.
+
+
+OSWALD Enough! you may depart.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to himself)
+ Father!--to God himself we cannot give
+ A holier name; and, under such a mask,
+ To lead a Spirit, spotless as the blessed,
+ To that abhorrèd den of brutish vice!--
+ Oswald, the firm foundation of my life
+ Is going from under me; these strange discoveries--
+ Looked at from every point of fear or hope,
+ Duty, or love--involve, I feel, my ruin.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II
+
+SCENE--A Chamber in the Hostel--OSWALD alone, rising from a Table on
+which he had been writing.
+
+
+OSWALD They chose _him_ for their Chief!--what covert part
+ He, in the preference, modest Youth, might take,
+ I neither know nor care. The insult bred
+ More of contempt than hatred; both are flown;
+ That either e'er existed is my shame:
+ 'Twas a dull spark--a most unnatural fire
+ That died the moment the air breathed upon it.
+ --These fools of feeling are mere birds of winter
+ That haunt some barren island of the north,
+ Where, if a famishing man stretch forth his hand,
+ They think it is to feed them. I have left him
+ To solitary meditation;--now
+ For a few swelling phrases, and a flash
+ Of truth, enough to dazzle and to blind,
+ And he is mine for ever--here he comes.
+
+
+[Enter MARMADUKE.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE These ten years she has moved her lips all day
+ And never speaks!
+
+
+OSWALD Who is it?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I have seen her.
+
+
+OSWALD Oh! the poor tenant of that ragged homestead,
+ Her whom the Monster, Clifford, drove to madness.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I met a peasant near the spot; he told me,
+ These ten years she had sate all day alone
+ Within those empty walls.
+
+
+OSWALD I too have seen her;
+ Chancing to pass this way some six months gone,
+ At midnight, I betook me to the Churchyard:
+ The moon shone clear, the air was still, so still
+ The trees were silent as the graves beneath them.
+ Long did I watch, and saw her pacing round
+ Upon the self-same spot, still round and round,
+ Her lips for ever moving.
+
+
+MARMADUKE At her door
+ Rooted I stood; for, looking at the woman,
+ I thought I saw the skeleton of Idonea.
+
+
+OSWALD But the pretended Father--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Earthly law
+ Measures not crimes like his.
+
+
+OSWALD _We_ rank not, happily,
+ With those who take the spirit of their rule
+ From that soft class of devotees who feel
+ Reverence for life so deeply, that they spare
+ The verminous brood, and cherish what they spare
+ While feeding on their bodies. Would that Idonea
+ Were present, to the end that we might hear
+ What she can urge in his defence; she loves him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Yes, loves him; 'tis a truth that multiplies
+ His guilt a thousand-fold.
+
+
+OSWALD 'Tis most perplexing:
+ What must be done?
+
+
+MARMADUKE We will conduct her hither;
+ These walls shall witness it--from first to last
+ He shall reveal himself.
+
+
+OSWALD Happy are we,
+ Who live in these disputed tracts, that own
+ No law but what each man makes for himself;
+ Here justice has indeed a field of triumph.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Let us begone and bring her hither;--here
+ The truth shall be laid open, his guilt proved
+ Before her face. The rest be left to me.
+
+OSWALD You will be firm: but though we well may trust
+ The issue to the justice of the cause,
+ Caution must not be flung aside; remember,
+ Yours is no common life. Self-stationed here,
+ Upon these savage confines, we have seen you
+ Stand like an isthmus 'twixt two stormy seas
+ That oft have checked their fury at your bidding.
+ 'Mid the deep holds of Solway's mossy waste,
+ Your single virtue has transformed a Band
+ Of fierce barbarians into Ministers
+ Of peace and order. Aged men with tears
+ Have blessed their steps, the fatherless retire
+ For shelter to their banners. But it is,
+ As you must needs have deeply felt, it is
+ In darkness and in tempest that we seek
+ The majesty of Him who rules the world.
+ Benevolence, that has not heart to use
+ The wholesome ministry of pain and evil,
+ Becomes at last weak and contemptible.
+ Your generous qualities have won due praise,
+ But vigorous Spirits look for something more
+ Than Youth's spontaneous products; and to-day
+ You will not disappoint them; and hereafter--
+
+
+MARMADUKE You are wasting words; hear me then, once for all:
+ You are a Man--and therefore, if compassion,
+ Which to our kind is natural as life,
+ Be known unto you, you will love this Woman,
+ Even as I do; but I should loathe the light,
+ If I could think one weak or partial feeling--
+
+
+OSWALD You will forgive me--
+
+
+MARMADUKE If I ever knew
+ My heart, could penetrate its inmost core,
+ 'Tis at this moment.--Oswald, I have loved
+ To be the friend and father of the oppressed,
+ A comforter of sorrow;--there is something
+ Which looks like a transition in my soul,
+ And yet it is not.--Let us lead him hither.
+
+
+OSWALD Stoop for a moment; 'tis an act of justice;
+ And where's the triumph if the delegate
+ Must fall in the execution of his office?
+ The deed is done--if you will have it so--
+ Here where we stand--that tribe of vulgar wretches
+ (You saw them gathering for the festival)
+ Rush in--the villains seize us--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Seize!
+
+
+OSWALD Yes, they--
+ Men who are little given to sift and weigh--
+ Would wreak on us the passion of the moment.
+
+
+MARMADUKE The cloud will soon disperse--farewell--but stay,
+ Thou wilt relate the story.
+
+
+OSWALD Am I neither
+ To bear a part in this Man's punishment,
+ Nor be its witness?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I had many hopes
+ That were most dear to me, and some will bear
+ To be transferred to thee.
+
+
+OSWALD When I'm dishonoured!
+
+
+MARMADUKE I would preserve thee. How may this be done?
+
+
+OSWALD By showing that you look beyond the instant.
+ A few leagues hence we shall have open ground,
+ And nowhere upon earth is place so fit
+ To look upon the deed. Before we enter
+ The barren Moor, hangs from a beetling rock
+ The shattered Castle in which Clifford oft
+ Has held infernal orgies--with the gloom,
+ And very superstition of the place,
+ Seasoning his wickedness. The Debauchee
+ Would there perhaps have gathered the first fruits
+ Of this mock Father's guilt.
+
+
+[Enter Host conducting HERBERT.]
+
+
+HOST The Baron Herbert
+ Attends your pleasure.
+
+
+OSWALD (to Host)
+ We are ready--
+ (to HERBERT) Sir!
+ I hope you are refreshed.--I have just written
+ A notice for your Daughter, that she may know
+ What is become of you.--You'll sit down and sign it;
+ 'Twill glad her heart to see her father's signature.
+ [Gives the letter he had written.]
+
+
+HERBERT Thanks for your care.
+
+
+ [Sits down and writes. Exit Host.]
+
+
+OSWALD (aside to MARMADUKE)
+ Perhaps it would be useful
+ That you too should subscribe your name.
+[MARMADUKE overlooks HERBERT--then writes--examines the letter eagerly.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE I cannot leave this paper.
+
+
+ [He puts it up, agitated.]
+
+
+OSWALD (aside)
+ Dastard! Come.
+
+
+ [MARMADUKE goes towards HERBERT and supports him--MARMADUKE
+ tremblingly beckons OSWALD to take his place.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (as he quits HERBERT)
+ There is a palsy in his limbs--he shakes.
+
+
+ [Exeunt OSWALD and HERBERT--MARMADUKE following.]
+
+
+SCENE changes to a Wood--a Group of Pilgrims, and IDONEA with them.
+
+
+FIRST PILGRIM A grove of darker and more lofty shade
+ I never saw.
+
+
+SECOND PILGRIM The music of the birds
+ Drops deadened from a roof so thick with leaves.
+
+
+OLD PILGRIM This news! It made my heart leap up with joy.
+
+
+IDONEA I scarcely can believe it.
+
+
+OLD PILGRIM Myself, I heard
+ The Sheriff read, in open Court, a letter
+ Which purported it was the royal pleasure
+ The Baron Herbert, who, as was supposed,
+ Had taken refuge in this neighbourhood,
+ Should be forthwith restored. The hearing, Lady,
+ Filled my dim eyes with tears.--When I returned
+ From Palestine, and brought with me a heart,
+ Though rich in heavenly, poor in earthly, comfort,
+ I met your Father, then a wandering Outcast:
+ He had a Guide, a Shepherd's boy; but grieved
+ He was that One so young should pass his youth
+ In such sad service; and he parted with him.
+ We joined our tales of wretchedness together,
+ And begged our daily bread from door to door.
+ I talk familiarly to you, sweet Lady!
+ For once you loved me.
+
+
+IDONEA You shall back with me
+ And see your Friend again. The good old Man
+ Will be rejoiced to greet you.
+
+
+OLD PILGRIM It seems but yesterday
+ That a fierce storm o'ertook us, worn with travel,
+ In a deep wood remote from any town.
+ A cave that opened to the road presented
+ A friendly shelter, and we entered in.
+
+
+IDONEA And I was with you?
+
+
+OLD PILGRIM If indeed 'twas you--
+ But you were then a tottering Little-one--
+ We sate us down. The sky grew dark and darker:
+ I struck my flint, and built up a small fire
+ With rotten boughs and leaves, such as the winds
+ Of many autumns in the cave had piled.
+ Meanwhile the storm fell heavy on the woods;
+ Our little fire sent forth a cheering warmth
+ And we were comforted, and talked of comfort;
+ But 'twas an angry night, and o'er our heads
+ The thunder rolled in peals that would have made
+ A sleeping man uneasy in his bed.
+ O Lady, you have need to love your Father.
+ His voice--methinks I hear it now, his voice
+ When, after a broad flash that filled the cave,
+ He said to me, that he had seen his Child,
+ A face (no cherub's face more beautiful)
+ Revealed by lustre brought with it from heaven;
+ And it was you, dear Lady!
+
+
+IDONEA God be praised,
+ That I have been his comforter till now!
+ And will be so through every change of fortune
+ And every sacrifice his peace requires.--
+ Let us be gone with speed, that he may hear
+ These joyful tidings from no lips but mine.
+
+
+ [Exeunt IDONEA and Pilgrims.]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE--The Area of a half-ruined Castle--on one side the entrance to a
+dungeon--OSWALD and MARMADUKE pacing backwards and forwards.
+
+
+
+MARMADUKE 'Tis a wild night.
+
+
+OSWALD I'd give my cloak and bonnet
+ For sight of a warm fire.
+
+
+MARMADUKE The wind blows keen;
+ My hands are numb.
+
+
+OSWALD Ha! ha! 'tis nipping cold.
+ [Blowing his fingers.]
+ I long for news of our brave Comrades; Lacy
+ Would drive those Scottish Rovers to their dens
+ If once they blew a horn this side the Tweed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I think I see a second range of Towers;
+ This castle has another Area--come,
+ Let us examine it.
+
+
+OSWALD 'Tis a bitter night;
+ I hope Idonea is well housed. That horseman,
+ Who at full speed swept by us where the wood
+ Roared in the tempest, was within an ace
+ Of sending to his grave our precious Charge:
+ That would have been a vile mischance.
+
+
+MARMADUKE It would.
+
+
+OSWALD Justice had been most cruelly defrauded.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Most cruelly.
+
+
+OSWALD As up the steep we clomb,
+ I saw a distant fire in the north-east;
+ I took it for the blaze of Cheviot Beacon:
+ With proper speed our quarters may be gained
+ To-morrow evening.
+
+ [He looks restlessly towards the mouth of the dungeon.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE When, upon the plank,
+ I had led him 'cross [4] the torrent, his voice blessed me:
+ You could not hear, for the foam beat the rocks
+ With deafening noise,--the benediction fell
+ Back on himself; but changed into a curse.
+
+
+OSWALD As well indeed it might.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And this you deem
+ The fittest place?
+
+
+OSWALD (aside)
+ He is growing pitiful.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (listening)
+ What an odd moaning that is!--
+
+OSWALD. Mighty odd
+ The wind should pipe a little, while we stand
+ Cooling our heels in this way!--I'll begin
+ And count the stars.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (still listening)
+ That dog of his, you are sure,
+ Could not come after us--he _must_ have perished;
+ The torrent would have dashed an oak to splinters.
+ You said you did not like his looks--that he
+ Would trouble us; if he were here again,
+ I swear the sight of him would quail me more
+ Than twenty armies.
+
+
+OSWALD How?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The old blind Man,
+ When you had told him the mischance, was troubled
+ Even to the shedding of some natural tears
+ Into the torrent over which he hung,
+ Listening in vain.
+
+
+OSWALD He has a tender heart!
+
+
+ [OSWALD offers to go down into the dungeon.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE How now, what mean you?
+
+
+OSWALD Truly, I was going
+ To waken our stray Baron. Were there not
+ A farm or dwelling-house within five leagues,
+ We should deserve to wear a cap and bells,
+ Three good round years, for playing the fool here
+ In such a night as this.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Stop, stop.
+
+
+OSWALD Perhaps,
+ You'd better like we should descend together,
+ And lie down by his side--what say you to it?
+ Three of us--we should keep each other warm:
+ I'll answer for it that our four-legged friend
+ Shall not disturb us; further I'll not engage;
+ Come, come, for manhood's sake!
+
+
+MARMADUKE These drowsy shiverings,
+ This mortal stupor which is creeping over me,
+ What do they mean? were this my single body
+ Opposed to armies, not a nerve would tremble:
+ Why do I tremble now?--Is not the depth
+ Of this Man's crimes beyond the reach of thought?
+ And yet, in plumbing the abyss for judgment,
+ Something I strike upon which turns my mind
+ Back on herself, I think, again--my breast
+ Concentres all the terrors of the Universe:
+ I look at him and tremble like a child.
+
+
+OSWALD Is it possible?
+
+
+MARMADUKE One thing you noticed not:
+ Just as we left the glen a clap of thunder
+ Burst on the mountains with hell-rousing force.
+ This is a time, said he, when guilt may shudder;
+ But there's a Providence for them who walk
+ In helplessness, when innocence is with them.
+ At this audacious blasphemy, I thought
+ The spirit of vengeance seemed to ride the air.
+
+
+OSWALD Why are you not the man you were that moment?
+
+
+ [He draws MARMADUKE to the dungeon.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE You say he was asleep,--look at this arm,
+ And tell me if 'tis fit for such a work.
+ Oswald, Oswald!
+ [Leans upon OSWALD.]
+
+
+OSWALD This is some sudden seizure!
+
+
+MARMADUKE A most strange faintness,--will you hunt me out
+ A draught of water?
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, to see you thus
+ Moves me beyond my bearing.--I will try
+ To gain the torrent's brink.
+
+
+[Exit OSWALD.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (after a pause)
+ It seems an age
+ Since that Man left me.--No, I am not lost.
+
+
+HERBERT (at the mouth of the dungeon)
+ Give me your hand; where are you, Friends? and tell me
+ How goes the night.
+
+
+MARMADUKE 'Tis hard to measure time,
+ In such a weary night, and such a place.
+
+
+HERBERT I do not hear the voice of my friend Oswald.
+
+MARMADUKE A minute past, he went to fetch a draught
+ Of water from the torrent. 'Tis, you'll say,
+ A cheerless beverage.
+
+
+HERBERT How good it was in you
+ To stay behind!--Hearing at first no answer,
+ I was alarmed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE No wonder; this is a place
+ That well may put some fears into _your_ heart.
+
+
+HERBERT Why so? a roofless rock had been a comfort,
+ Storm-beaten and bewildered as we were;
+ And in a night like this, to lend your cloaks
+ To make a bed for me!--My Girl will weep
+ When she is told of it.
+
+MARMADUKE This Daughter of yours
+ Is very dear to you.
+
+
+HERBERT Oh! but you are young;
+ Over your head twice twenty years must roll,
+ With all their natural weight of sorrow and pain,
+ Ere can be known to you how much a Father
+ May love his Child.
+
+MARMADUKE
+ Thank you, old Man, for this! [Aside.]
+
+
+HERBERT Fallen am I, and worn out, a useless Man;
+ Kindly have you protected me to-night,
+ And no return have I to make but prayers;
+ May you in age be blest with such a daughter!--
+ When from the Holy Land I had returned
+ Sightless, and from my heritage was driven,
+ A wretched Outcast--but this strain of thought
+ Would lead me to talk fondly.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Do not fear;
+ Your words are precious to my ears; go on.
+
+
+HERBERT You will forgive me, but my heart runs over.
+ When my old Leader slipped into the flood
+ And perished, what a piercing outcry you
+ Sent after him. I have loved you ever since.
+ You start--where are we?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Oh, there is no danger;
+ The cold blast struck me.
+
+
+HERBERT
+ 'Twas a foolish question.
+
+
+MARMADUKE But when you were an Outcast?--Heaven is just;
+ Your piety would not miss its due reward;
+ The little Orphan then would be your succour,
+ And do good service, though she knew it not.
+
+
+HERBERT I turned me from the dwellings of my Fathers,
+ Where none but those who trampled on my rights
+ Seemed to remember me. To the wide world
+ I bore her, in my arms; her looks won pity;
+ She was my Raven in the wilderness,
+ And brought me food. Have I not cause to love her?
+
+MARMADUKE Yes.
+
+
+HERBERT More than ever Parent loved a Child?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Yes, yes.
+
+
+HERBERT I will not murmur, merciful God!
+ I will not murmur; blasted as I have been,
+ Thou hast left me ears to hear my Daughter's voice,
+ And arms to fold her to my heart. Submissively
+ Thee I adore, and find my rest in faith.
+
+
+[Enter OSWALD.]
+
+
+OSWALD Herbert!--confusion! (aside).
+ Here it is, my Friend,
+ [Presents the Horn.]
+ A charming beverage for you to carouse,
+ This bitter night.
+
+
+HERBERT Ha! Oswald! ten bright crosses
+ I would have given, not many minutes gone,
+ To have heard your voice.
+
+
+OSWALD Your couch, I fear, good Baron,
+ Has been but comfortless; and yet that place,
+ When the tempestuous wind first drove us hither,
+ Felt warm as a wren's nest. You'd better turn
+ And under covert rest till break of day,
+ Or till the storm abate.
+ (To MARMADUKE aside.) He has restored you.
+ No doubt you have been nobly entertained?
+ But soft!--how came he forth? The Night-mare Conscience
+ Has driven him out of harbour?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I believe
+ You have guessed right.
+
+
+HERBERT The trees renew their murmur:
+ Come, let us house together.
+
+
+ [OSWALD conducts him to the dungeon.]
+
+
+OSWALD (returns)
+ Had I not
+ Esteemed you worthy to conduct the affair
+ To its most fit conclusion, do you think
+ I would so long have struggled with my Nature,
+ And smothered all that's man in me?--away!--
+ [Looking towards the dungeon.]
+ This man's the property of him who best
+ Can feel his crimes. I have resigned a privilege;
+ It now becomes my duty to resume it.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Touch not a finger--
+
+
+OSWALD What then must be done?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Which way soe'er I turn, I am perplexed.
+
+
+OSWALD Now, on my life, I grieve for you. The misery
+ Of doubt is insupportable. Pity, the facts
+ Did not admit of stronger evidence;
+ Twelve honest men, plain men, would set us right;
+ Their verdict would abolish these weak scruples.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Weak! I am weak--there does my torment lie,
+ Feeding itself.
+
+
+OSWALD Verily, when he said
+ How his old heart would leap to hear her steps,
+ You thought his voice the echo of Idonea's.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And never heard a sound so terrible.
+
+
+OSWALD Perchance you think so now?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I cannot do it:
+ Twice did I spring to grasp his withered throat,
+ When such a sudden weakness fell upon me,
+ I could have dropped asleep upon his breast.
+
+
+OSWALD Justice--is there not thunder in the word?
+ Shall it be law to stab the petty robber
+ Who aims but at our purse; and shall this Parricide--
+ Worse is he far, far worse (if foul dishonour
+ Be worse than death) to that confiding Creature
+ Whom he to more than filial love and duty
+ Hath falsely trained--shall he fulfil his purpose?
+ But you are fallen.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Fallen should I be indeed--
+ Murder--perhaps asleep, blind, old, alone,
+ Betrayed, in darkness! Here to strike the blow--
+ Away! away!--
+
+[Flings away his sword.]
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, I have done with you:
+ We'll lead him to the Convent. He shall live,
+ And she shall love him. With unquestioned title
+ He shall be seated in his Barony,
+ And we too chant the praise of his good deeds.
+ I now perceive we do mistake our masters,
+ And most despise the men who best can teach us:
+ Henceforth it shall be said that bad men only
+ Are brave: Clifford is brave; and that old Man
+ Is brave.
+ [Taking MARMADUKE'S sword and giving it to him.]
+ To Clifford's arms he would have led
+ His Victim--haply to this desolate house.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (advancing to the dungeon)
+ It must be ended!--
+
+
+OSWALD Softly; do not rouse him;
+ He will deny it to the last. He lies
+ Within the Vault, a spear's length to the left.
+ [MARMADUKE descends to the dungeon.]
+ (Alone.) The Villains rose in mutiny to destroy me;
+ I could have quelled the Cowards, but this Stripling
+ Must needs step in, and save my life. The look
+ With which he gave the boon--I see it now!
+ The same that tempted me to loathe the gift.--
+ For this old venerable Grey-beard--faith
+ 'Tis his own fault if he hath got a face
+ Which doth play tricks with them that look on it:
+ 'Twas this that put it in my thoughts--that countenance--
+ His staff--his figure--Murder!--what, of whom?
+ We kill a worn-out horse, and who but women
+ Sigh at the deed? Hew down a withered tree,
+ And none look grave but dotards. He may live
+ To thank me for this service. Rainbow arches,
+ Highways of dreaming passion, have too long,
+ Young as he is, diverted wish and hope
+ From the unpretending ground we mortals tread;--
+ Then shatter the delusion, break it up
+ And set him free. What follows? I have learned
+ That things will work to ends the slaves o' the world
+ Do never dream of. I _have_ been what he--
+ This Boy--when he comes forth with bloody hands--
+ Might envy, and am now,--but he shall know
+ What I am now--
+ [Goes and listens at the dungeon.]
+ Praying or parleying?--tut!
+ Is he not eyeless? He has been half-dead
+ These fifteen years--
+
+ [Enter female Beggar with two or three of her Companions.]
+
+ (Turning abruptly.) Ha! speak--what Thing art thou?
+ (Recognises her.) Heavens! my good friend! [To her.]
+
+
+BEGGAR Forgive me, gracious Sir!--
+
+
+OSWALD (to her companions)
+ Begone, ye Slaves, or I will raise a whirlwind
+ And send ye dancing to the clouds, like leaves.
+ [They retire affrighted.]
+
+
+BEGGAR Indeed we meant no harm; we lodge sometimes
+ In this deserted Castle--_I repent me._
+
+
+ [OSWALD goes to the dungeon--listens--returns to the Beggar.]
+
+
+OSWALD Woman, thou hast a helpless Infant--keep
+ Thy secret for its sake, or verily
+ That wretched life of thine shall be the forfeit.
+
+
+BEGGAR I _do_ repent me, Sir; I fear the curse
+ Of that blind Man. 'Twas not your money, Sir,--
+
+
+OSWALD Begone!
+
+
+BEGGAR (going)
+ There is some wicked deed in hand:
+ [Aside.]
+ Would I could find the old Man and his Daughter.
+
+
+ [Exit Beggar.]
+
+
+[MARMADUKE re-enters from the dungeon]
+
+
+OSWALD It is all over then;--your foolish fears
+ Are hushed to sleep, by your own act and deed,
+ Made quiet as he is.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Why came you down?
+ And when I felt your hand upon my arm
+ And spake to you, why did you give no answer?
+ Feared you to waken him? he must have been
+ In a deep sleep. I whispered to him thrice.
+ There are the strangest echoes in that place!
+
+
+OSWALD Tut! let them gabble till the day of doom.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Scarcely, by groping, had I reached the Spot,
+ When round my wrist I felt a cord drawn tight,
+ As if the blind Man's dog were pulling at it.
+
+
+OSWALD But after that?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The features of Idonea
+ Lurked in his face--
+
+OSWALD Psha! Never to these eyes
+ Will retribution show itself again
+ With aspect so inviting. Why forbid me
+ To share your triumph?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Yes, her very look,
+ Smiling in sleep--
+
+
+OSWALD A pretty feat of Fancy!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Though but a glimpse, it sent me to my prayers.
+
+
+OSWALD Is he alive?
+
+
+MARMADUKE What mean you? who alive?
+
+
+OSWALD Herbert! since you will have it, Baron Herbert;
+ He who will gain his Seignory when Idonea
+ Hath become Clifford's harlot--is _he_ living?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The old Man in that dungeon _is_ alive.
+
+
+OSWALD Henceforth, then, will I never in camp or field
+ Obey you more. Your weakness, to the Band,
+ Shall be proclaimed: brave Men, they all shall hear it.
+ You a protector of humanity!
+ Avenger you of outraged innocence!
+
+
+MARMADUKE 'Twas dark--dark as the grave; yet did I see,
+ Saw him--his face turned toward me; and I tell thee
+ Idonea's filial countenance was there
+ To baffle me--it put me to my prayers.
+ Upwards I cast my eyes, and, through a crevice,
+ Beheld a star twinkling above my head,
+ And, by the living God, I could not do it.
+ [Sinks exhausted.]
+
+
+OSWALD (to himself)
+ Now may I perish if this turn do more
+ Than make me change my course.
+ (To MARMADUKE.) Dear Marmaduke,
+ My words were rashly spoken; I recal them:
+ I feel my error; shedding human blood
+ Is a most serious thing.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Not I alone,
+ Thou too art deep in guilt.
+
+
+OSWALD We have indeed
+ Been most presumptuous. There _is_ guilt in this,
+ Else could so strong a mind have ever known
+ These trepidations? Plain it is that Heaven
+ Has marked out this foul Wretch as one whose crimes
+ Must never come before a mortal judgment-seat,
+ Or be chastised by mortal instruments.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ A thought that's worth a thousand worlds!
+
+ [Goes towards the dungeon.]
+
+
+OSWALD I grieve
+ That, in my zeal, I have caused you so much pain.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Think not of that! 'tis over--we are safe.
+
+
+OSWALD (as if to himself, yet speaking aloud)
+ The truth is hideous, but how stifle it?
+ [Turning to MARMADUKE.]
+ Give me your sword--nay, here are stones and fragments,
+ The least of which would beat out a man's brains;
+ Or you might drive your head against that wall.
+ No! this is not the place to hear the tale:
+ It should be told you pinioned in your bed,
+ Or on some vast and solitary plain
+ Blown to you from a trumpet.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Why talk thus?
+ Whate'er the monster brooding in your breast
+ I care not: fear I have none, and cannot fear--
+ [The sound of a horn is heard.]
+ That horn again--'Tis some one of our Troop;
+ What do they here? Listen!
+
+
+OSWALD What! dogged like thieves!
+
+
+[Enter WALLACE and LACY, etc.]
+
+
+LACY You are found at last, thanks to the vagrant Troop
+ For not misleading us.
+
+
+OSWALD (looking at WALLACE)
+ That subtle Greybeard--
+ I'd rather see my father's ghost.
+
+
+LACY (to MARMADUKE)
+ My Captain,
+ We come by order of the Band. Belike
+ You have not heard that Henry has at last
+ Dissolved the Barons' League, and sent abroad
+ His Sheriffs with fit force to reinstate
+ The genuine owners of such Lands and Baronies
+ As, in these long commotions, have been seized.
+ His Power is this way tending. It befits us
+ To stand upon our guard, and with our swords
+ Defend the innocent.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Lacy! we look
+ But at the surfaces of things; we hear
+ Of towns in flames, fields ravaged, young and old
+ Driven out in troops to want and nakedness;
+ Then grasp our swords and rush upon a cure
+ That flatters us, because it asks not thought:
+ The deeper malady is better hid;
+ The world is poisoned at the heart.
+
+
+LACY What mean you?
+
+
+WALLACE (whose eye has been fixed suspiciously upon OSWALD)
+ Ay, what is it you mean?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Hark'ee, my Friends;--
+ [Appearing gay.]
+ Were there a Man who, being weak and helpless
+ And most forlorn, should bribe a Mother, pressed
+ By penury, to yield him up her Daughter,
+ A little Infant, and instruct the Babe,
+ Prattling upon his knee, to call him Father--
+
+
+LACY Why, if his heart be tender, that offence
+ I could forgive him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (going on)
+ And should he make the Child
+ An instrument of falsehood, should he teach her
+ To stretch her arms, and dim the gladsome light
+ Of infant playfulness with piteous looks
+ Of misery that was not--
+
+LACY
+ Troth, 'tis hard--
+ But in a world like ours--
+
+
+MARMADUKE (changing his tone)
+ This self-same Man--
+ Even while he printed kisses on the cheek
+ Of this poor Babe, and taught its innocent tongue
+ To lisp the name of Father--could he look
+ To the unnatural harvest of that time
+ When he should give her up, a Woman grown,
+ To him who bid the highest in the market
+ Of foul pollution--
+
+
+LACY The whole visible world
+ Contains not such a Monster!
+
+
+MARMADUKE For this purpose
+ Should he resolve to taint her Soul by means
+ Which bathe the limbs in sweat to think of them;
+ Should he, by tales which would draw tears from iron,
+ Work on her nature, and so turn compassion
+ And gratitude to ministers of vice,
+ And make the spotless spirit of filial love
+ Prime mover in a plot to damn his Victim
+ Both soul and body--
+
+
+WALLACE 'Tis too horrible;
+ Oswald, what say you to it?
+
+
+LACY Hew him down,
+ And fling him to the ravens.
+
+
+MARMADUKE But his aspect
+ It is so meek, his countenance so venerable.
+
+
+WALLACE (with an appearance of mistrust)
+ But how, what say you, Oswald?
+
+
+LACY (at the same moment)
+ Stab him, were it
+ Before the Altar.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What, if he were sick,
+ Tottering upon the very verge of life,
+ And old, and blind--
+
+
+LACY Blind, say you?
+
+
+OSWALD (coming forward)
+ Are we Men,
+ Or own we baby Spirits? Genuine courage
+ Is not an accidental quality,
+ A thing dependent for its casual birth
+ On opposition and impediment.
+ Wisdom, if Justice speak the word, beats down
+ The giant's strength; and, at the voice of Justice,
+ Spares not the worm. The giant and the worm--
+ She weighs them in one scale. The wiles of woman,
+ And craft of age, seducing reason, first
+ Made weakness a protection, and obscured
+ The moral shapes of things. His tender cries
+ And helpless innocence--do they protect
+ The infant lamb? and shall the infirmities,
+ Which have enabled this enormous Culprit
+ To perpetrate his crimes, serve as a Sanctuary
+ To cover him from punishment? Shame!--Justice,
+ Admitting no resistance, bends alike
+ The feeble and the strong. She needs not here
+ Her bonds and chains, which make the mighty feeble.
+ --We recognise in this old Man a victim
+ Prepared already for the sacrifice.
+
+
+LACY By heaven, his words are reason!
+
+
+OSWALD Yes, my Friends,
+ His countenance is meek and venerable;
+ And, by the Mass, to see him at his prayers!--
+ I am of flesh and blood, and may I perish
+ When my heart does not ache to think of it!--
+ Poor Victim! not a virtue under heaven
+ But what was made an engine to ensnare thee;
+ But yet I trust, Idonea, thou art safe.
+
+
+LACY Idonea!
+
+
+WALLACE How! What? your Idonea?
+ [To MARMADUKE.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE _Mine;_
+ But now no longer mine. You know Lord Clifford;
+ He is the Man to whom the Maiden--pure
+ As beautiful, and gentle and benign,
+ And in her ample heart loving even me--
+ Was to be yielded up.
+
+
+LACY Now, by the head
+ Of my own child, this Man must die; my hand,
+ A worthier wanting, shall itself entwine
+ In his grey hairs!--
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to LACY)
+ I love the Father in thee.
+ You know me, Friends; I have a heart to feel,
+ And I have felt, more than perhaps becomes me
+ Or duty sanctions.
+
+
+LACY We will have ample justice.
+ Who are we, Friends? Do we not live on ground
+ Where Souls are self-defended, free to grow
+ Like mountain oaks rocked by the stormy wind?
+ Mark the Almighty Wisdom, which decreed
+ This monstrous crime to be laid open--_here,_
+ Where Reason has an eye that she can use,
+ And Men alone are Umpires. To the Camp
+ He shall be led, and there, the Country round
+ All gathered to the spot, in open day
+ Shall Nature be avenged.
+
+
+OSWALD 'Tis nobly thought;
+ His death will be a monument for ages.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to LACY)
+ I thank you for that hint. He shall be brought
+ Before the Camp, and would that best and wisest
+ Of every country might be present. There,
+ His crime shall be proclaimed; and for the rest
+ It shall be done as Wisdom shall decide:
+ Meanwhile, do you two hasten back and see
+ That all is well prepared.
+
+
+WALLACE We will obey you.
+ (Aside.) But softly! we must look a little nearer.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Tell where you found us. At some future time
+ I will explain the cause.
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+SCENE--The door of the Hostel, a group of Pilgrims as before; IDONEA and
+the Host among them
+
+
+HOST Lady, you'll find your Father at the Convent
+ As I have told you: He left us yesterday
+ With two Companions; one of them, as seemed,
+ His most familiar Friend.
+ (Going.) There was a letter
+ Of which I heard them speak, but that I fancy
+ Has been forgotten.
+
+
+IDONEA (to Host)
+ Farewell!
+
+
+HOST
+ Gentle pilgrims,
+ St. Cuthbert speed you on your holy errand.
+
+
+[Exeunt IDONEA and Pilgrims.]
+
+
+[SCENE--A desolate Moor]
+
+
+[OSWALD (alone)]
+
+
+OSWALD Carry him to the Camp! Yes, to the Camp.
+ Oh, Wisdom! a most wise resolve! and then,
+ That half a word should blow it to the winds!
+ This last device must end my work.--Methinks
+ It were a pleasant pastime to construct
+ A scale and table of belief--as thus--
+ Two columns, one for passion, one for proof;
+ Each rises as the other falls: and first,
+ Passion a unit and _against_ us--proof--
+ Nay, we must travel in another path,
+ Or we're stuck fast for ever;--passion, then,
+ Shall be a unit _for_ us; proof--no, passion!
+ We'll not insult thy majesty by time,
+ Person, and place--the where, the when, the how,
+ And all particulars that dull brains require
+ To constitute the spiritless shape of Fact,
+ They bow to, calling the idol, Demonstration.
+ A whipping to the Moralists who preach
+ That misery is a sacred thing: for me,
+ I know no cheaper engine to degrade a man,
+ Nor any half so sure. This Stripling's mind
+ Is shaken till the dregs float on the surface;
+ And, in the storm and anguish of the heart,
+ He talks of a transition in his Soul,
+ And dreams that he is happy. We dissect
+ The senseless body, and why not the mind?--
+ These are strange sights--the mind of man, upturned,
+ Is in all natures a strange spectacle;
+ In some a hideous one--hem! shall I stop?
+ No.--Thoughts and feelings will sink deep, but then
+ They have no substance. Pass but a few minutes,
+ And something shall be done which Memory
+ May touch, whene'er her Vassals are at work.
+
+
+[Enter MARMADUKE, from behind]
+
+
+OSWALD (turning to meet him)
+ But listen, for my peace--
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ Why, I _believe_ you.
+
+
+OSWALD But hear the proofs--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ay, prove that when two peas
+ Lie snugly in a pod, the pod must then
+ Be larger than the peas--prove this--'twere matter
+ Worthy the hearing. Fool was I to dream
+ It ever could be otherwise!
+
+
+OSWALD Last night
+ When I returned with water from the brook,
+ I overheard the Villains--every word
+ Like red-hot iron burnt into my heart.
+ Said one, "It is agreed on. The blind Man
+ Shall feign a sudden illness, and the Girl,
+ Who on her journey must proceed alone,
+ Under pretence of violence, be seized.
+ She is," continued the detested Slave,
+ "She is right willing--strange if she were not!--
+ They say, Lord Clifford is a savage man;
+ But, faith, to see him in his silken tunic,
+ Fitting his low voice to the minstrel's harp,
+ There's witchery in't. I never knew a maid
+ That could withstand it. True," continued he,
+ "When we arranged the affair, she wept a little
+ (Not the less welcome to my Lord for that)
+ And said, 'My Father he will have it so.'"
+
+
+MARMADUKE I am your hearer.
+
+OSWALD This I caught, and more
+ That may not be retold to any ear.
+ The obstinate bolt of a small iron door
+ Detained them near the gateway of the Castle.
+ By a dim lantern's light I saw that wreaths
+ Of flowers were in their hands, as if designed
+ For festive decoration; and they said,
+ With brutal laughter and most foul allusion,
+ That they should share the banquet with their Lord
+ And his new Favorite.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ Misery!--
+
+OSWALD I knew
+ How you would be disturbed by this dire news,
+ And therefore chose this solitary Moor,
+ Here to impart the tale, of which, last night,
+ I strove to ease my mind, when our two Comrades,
+ Commissioned by the Band, burst in upon us.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Last night, when moved to lift the avenging steel,
+ I did believe all things were shadows--yea,
+ Living or dead all things were bodiless,
+ Or but the mutual mockeries of body,
+ Till that same star summoned me back again.
+ Now I could laugh till my ribs ached. Fool!
+ To let a creed, built in the heart of things,
+ Dissolve before a twinkling atom!--Oswald,
+ I could fetch lessons out of wiser schools
+ Than you have entered, were it worth the pains.
+ Young as I am, I might go forth a teacher,
+ And you should see how deeply I could reason
+ Of love in all its shapes, beginnings, ends;
+ Of moral qualities in their diverse aspects;
+ Of actions, and their laws and tendencies.
+
+
+OSWALD You take it as it merits--
+
+
+MARMADUKE One a King,
+ General or Cham, Sultan or Emperor,
+ Strews twenty acres of good meadow-ground
+ With carcases, in lineament and shape
+ And substance, nothing differing from his own,
+ But that they cannot stand up of themselves;
+ Another sits i' th' sun, and by the hour
+ Floats kingcups in the brook--a Hero one
+ We call, and scorn the other as Time's spendthrift;
+ But have they not a world of common ground
+ To occupy--both fools, or wise alike,
+ Each in his way?
+
+
+OSWALD Troth, I begin to think so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Now for the corner-stone of my philosophy:
+ I would not give a denier for the man
+ Who, on such provocation as this earth
+ Yields, could not chuck his babe beneath the chin,
+ And send it with a fillip to its grave.
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, you leave me behind.
+
+
+MARMADUKE That such a One,
+ So pious in demeanour! in his look
+ So saintly and so pure!--Hark'ee, my Friend,
+ I'll plant myself before Lord Clifford's Castle,
+ A surly mastiff kennels at the gate,
+ And he shall howl and I will laugh, a medley
+ Most tunable.
+
+OSWALD In faith, a pleasant scheme;
+ But take your sword along with you, for that
+ Might in such neighbourhood find seemly use.--
+ But first, how wash our hands of this old Man?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Oh yes, that mole, that viper in the path;
+ Plague on my memory, him I had forgotten.
+
+
+OSWALD You know we left him sitting--see him yonder.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ha! ha!--
+
+
+OSWALD As 'twill be but a moment's work,
+ I will stroll on; you follow when 'tis done.
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+
+SCENE changes to another part of the Moor at a short distance--HERBERT
+is discovered seated on a stone
+
+
+HERBERT A sound of laughter, too!--'tis well--I feared,
+ The Stranger had some pitiable sorrow
+ Pressing upon his solitary heart.
+ Hush!--'tis the feeble and earth-loving wind
+ That creeps along the bells of the crisp heather.
+ Alas! 'tis cold--I shiver in the sunshine--
+ What can this mean? There is a psalm that speaks
+ Of God's parental mercies--with Idonea
+ I used to sing it.--Listen!--what foot is there?
+
+
+[Enter MARMADUKE]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (aside--looking at HERBERT)
+ And I have loved this Man! and _she_ hath loved him!
+ And I loved her, and she loves the Lord Clifford!
+ And there it ends;--if this be not enough
+ To make mankind merry for evermore,
+ Then plain it is as day, that eyes were made
+ For a wise purpose--verily to weep with!
+ [Looking round.]
+ A pretty prospect this, a masterpiece
+ Of Nature, finished with most curious skill!
+(To HERBERT.) Good Baron, have you ever practised tillage?
+ Pray tell me what this land is worth by the acre?
+
+
+HERBERT How glad I am to hear your voice! I know not
+ Wherein I have offended you;--last night
+ I found in you the kindest of Protectors;
+ This morning, when I spoke of weariness,
+ You from my shoulder took my scrip and threw it
+ About your own; but for these two hours past
+ Once only have you spoken, when the lark
+ Whirred from among the fern beneath our feet,
+ And I, no coward in my better days,
+ Was almost terrified.
+
+
+MARMADUKE That's excellent!--
+ So, you bethought you of the many ways
+ In which a man may come to his end, whose crimes
+ Have roused all Nature up against him--pshaw!--
+
+
+HERBERT For mercy's sake, is nobody in sight?
+ No traveller, peasant, herdsman?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Not a soul:
+ Here is a tree, raggèd, and bent, and bare,
+ That turns its goat's-beard flakes of pea-green moss
+ From the stern breathing of the rough sea-wind;
+ This have we, but no other company:
+ Commend me to the place. If a man should die
+ And leave his body here, it were all one
+ As he were twenty fathoms underground.
+
+
+HERBERT Where is our common Friend?
+
+
+MARMADUKE A ghost, methinks--
+ The Spirit of a murdered man, for instance--
+ Might have fine room to ramble about here,
+ A grand domain to squeak and gibber in.
+
+
+HERBERT Lost Man! if thou have any close-pent guilt
+ Pressing upon thy heart, and this the hour
+ Of visitation--
+
+
+MARMADUKE A bold word from _you_!
+
+
+HERBERT Restore him, Heaven!
+
+
+MARMADUKE The desperate Wretch!--A Flower,
+ Fairest of all flowers, was she once, but now
+ They have snapped her from the stem--Poh! let her lie
+ Besoiled with mire, and let the houseless snail
+ Feed on her leaves. You knew her well--ay, there,
+ Old Man! you were a very Lynx, you knew
+ The worm was in her--
+
+
+HERBERT Mercy! Sir, what mean you?
+
+
+MARMADUKE You have a Daughter!
+
+
+HERBERT Oh that she were here!--
+ She hath an eye that sinks into all hearts,
+ And if I have in aught offended you,
+ Soon would her gentle voice make peace between us.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (aside)
+ I do believe he weeps--I could weep too--
+ There is a vein of her voice that runs through his:
+ Even such a Man my fancy bodied forth
+ From the first moment that I loved the Maid;
+ And for his sake I loved her more: these tears--
+ I did not think that aught was left in me
+ Of what I have been--yes, I thank thee, Heaven!
+ One happy thought has passed across my mind.
+ --It may not be--I am cut off from man;
+ No more shall I be man--no more shall I
+ Have human feelings!--
+ (To HERBERT) --Now, for a little more
+ About your Daughter!
+
+
+HERBERT Troops of armed men,
+ Met in the roads, would bless us; little children,
+ Rushing along in the full tide of play,
+ Stood silent as we passed them! I have heard
+ The boisterous carman, in the miry road,
+ Check his loud whip and hail us with mild voice,
+ And speak with milder voice to his poor beasts.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And whither were you going?
+
+
+HERBERT Learn, young Man,--
+ To fear the virtuous, and reverence misery,
+ Whether too much for patience, or, like mine,
+ Softened till it becomes a gift of mercy.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Now, this is as it should be!
+
+
+HERBERT I am weak!--
+ My Daughter does not know how weak I am;
+ And, as thou see'st, under the arch of heaven
+ Here do I stand, alone, to helplessness,
+ By the good God, our common Father, doomed!--
+ But I had once a spirit and an arm--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Now, for a word about your Barony:
+ I fancy when you left the Holy Land,
+ And came to--what's your title--eh? your claims
+ Were undisputed!
+
+HERBERT Like a mendicant,
+ Whom no one comes to meet, I stood alone;--
+ I murmured--but, remembering Him who feeds
+ The pelican and ostrich of the desert,
+ From my own threshold I looked up to Heaven
+ And did not want glimmerings of quiet hope.
+ So, from the court I passed, and down the brook,
+ Led by its murmur, to the ancient oak
+ I came; and when I felt its cooling shade,
+ I sate me down, and cannot but believe--
+ While in my lap I held my little Babe
+ And clasped her to my heart, my heart that ached
+ More with delight than grief--I heard a voice
+ Such as by Cherith on Elijah called;
+ It said, "I will be with thee." A little boy,
+ A shepherd-lad, ere yet my trance was gone,
+ Hailed us as if he had been sent from heaven,
+ And said, with tears, that he would be our guide:
+ I had a better guide--that innocent Babe--
+ Her, who hath saved me, to this hour, from harm,
+ From cold, from hunger, penury, and death;
+ To whom I owe the best of all the good
+ I have, or wish for, upon earth--and more
+ And higher far than lies within earth's bounds:
+ Therefore I bless her: when I think of Man,
+ I bless her with sad spirit,--when of God,
+ I bless her in the fulness of my joy!
+
+
+MARMADUKE The name of daughter in his mouth, he prays!
+ With nerves so steady, that the very flies
+ Sit unmolested on his staff.--Innocent!--
+ If he were innocent--then he would tremble
+ And be disturbed, as I am.
+ (Turning aside.) I have read
+ In Story, what men now alive have witnessed,
+ How, when the People's mind was racked with doubt,
+ Appeal was made to the great Judge: the Accused
+ With naked feet walked over burning ploughshares.
+ Here is a Man by Nature's hand prepared
+ For a like trial, but more merciful.
+ Why else have I been led to this bleak Waste?
+ Bare is it, without house or track, and destitute
+ Of obvious shelter, as a shipless sea.
+ Here will I leave him--here--All-seeing God!
+ Such as _he_ is, and sore perplexed as I am,
+ I will commit him to this final _Ordeal!_--
+ He heard a voice--a shepherd-lad came to him
+ And was his guide; if once, why not again,
+ And in this desert? If never--then the whole
+ Of what he says, and looks, and does, and is,
+ Makes up one damning falsehood. Leave him here
+ To cold and hunger!--Pain is of the heart,
+ And what are a few throes of bodily suffering
+ If they can waken one pang of remorse?
+ [Goes up to HERBERT.]
+ Old Man! my wrath is as a flame burnt out,
+ It cannot be rekindled. Thou art here
+ Led by my hand to save thee from perdition:
+ Thou wilt have time to breathe and think--
+
+
+HERBERT Oh, Mercy!
+
+
+MARMADUKE I know the need that all men have of mercy,
+ And therefore leave thee to a righteous judgment.
+
+
+HERBERT My Child, my blessèd Child!
+
+MARMADUKE No more of that;
+ Thou wilt have many guides if thou art innocent;
+ Yea, from the utmost corners of the earth,
+ That Woman will come o'er this Waste to save thee.
+ [He pauses and looks at HERBERT'S staff.]
+ Ha! what is here? and carved by her own hand!
+ [Reads upon the staff.]
+ "I am eyes to the blind, saith the Lord.
+ He that puts his trust in me shall not fail!"
+ Yes, be it so;--repent and be forgiven--
+ God and that staff are now thy only guides.
+ [He leaves HERBERT on the Moor.]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE--An eminence, a Beacon on the summit
+
+LACY, WALLACE, LENNOX, etc. etc.
+
+
+SEVERAL OF THE BAND (confusedly) But patience!
+
+
+ONE OF THE BAND Curses on that Traitor, Oswald!--
+ Our Captain made a prey to foul device!--
+
+
+LENNOX (to WALLACE)
+ His tool, the wandering Beggar, made last night
+ A plain confession, such as leaves no doubt,
+ Knowing what otherwise we know too well,
+ That she revealed the truth. Stand by me now;
+ For rather would I have a nest of vipers
+ Between my breast-plate and my skin, than make
+ Oswald my special enemy, if you
+ Deny me your support.
+
+
+LACY We have been fooled--
+ But for the motive?
+
+
+WALLACE Natures such as his
+ Spin motives out of their own bowels, Lacy!
+ I learn'd this when I was a Confessor.
+ I know him well; there needs no other motive
+ Than that most strange incontinence in crime
+ Which haunts this Oswald. Power is life to him
+ And breath and being; where he cannot govern,
+ He will destroy.
+
+
+LACY To have been trapped like moles!--
+ Yes, you are right, we need not hunt for motives:
+ There is no crime from which this man would shrink;
+ He recks not human law; and I have noticed
+ That often when the name of God is uttered,
+ A sudden blankness overspreads his face.
+
+
+LENNOX Yet, reasoner as he is, his pride has built
+ Some uncouth superstition of its own.
+
+
+WALLACE I have seen traces of it.
+
+
+LENNOX Once he headed
+ A band of Pirates in the Norway seas;
+ And when the King of Denmark summoned him
+ To the oath of fealty, I well remember,
+ 'Twas a strange answer that he made; he said,
+ "I hold of Spirits, and the Sun in heaven."
+
+
+LACY
+ He is no madman.
+
+WALLACE
+ A most subtle doctor
+ Were that man, who could draw the line that parts
+ Pride and her daughter, Cruelty, from Madness,
+ That should be scourged, not pitied. Restless Minds,
+ Such Minds as find amid their fellow-men
+ No heart that loves them, none that they can love,
+ Will turn perforce and seek for sympathy
+ In dim relation to imagined Beings.
+
+
+ONE OF THE BAND
+ What if he mean to offer up our Captain
+ An expiation and a sacrifice
+ To those infernal fiends!
+
+
+WALLACE Now, if the event
+ Should be as Lennox has foretold, then swear,
+ My Friends, his heart shall have as many wounds
+ As there are daggers here.
+
+
+LACY What need of swearing!
+
+
+ONE OF THE BAND Let us away!
+
+
+ANOTHER Away!
+
+
+A THIRD Hark! how the horns
+ Of those Scotch Rovers echo through the vale.
+
+
+LACY Stay you behind; and when the sun is down,
+ Light up this beacon.
+
+ONE OF THE BAND You shall be obeyed.
+
+
+ [They go out together.]
+
+
+
+SCENE--The Wood on the edge of the Moor.
+
+MARMADUKE (alone)
+
+
+MARMADUKE Deep, deep and vast, vast beyond human thought,
+ Yet calm.--I could believe, that there was here
+ The only quiet heart on earth. In terror,
+ Remembered terror, there is peace and rest.
+
+
+[Enter OSWALD]
+
+
+OSWALD Ha! my dear Captain.
+
+
+
+MARMADUKE A later meeting, Oswald,
+ Would have been better timed.
+
+
+OSWALD Alone, I see;
+ You have done your duty. I had hopes, which now
+ I feel that you will justify.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I had fears,
+ From which I have freed myself--but 'tis my wish
+ To be alone, and therefore we must part.
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, then--I am mistaken. There's a weakness
+ About you still; you talk of solitude--
+ I am your friend.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What need of this assurance
+ At any time? and why given now?
+
+
+OSWALD Because
+ You are now in truth my Master; you have taught me
+ What there is not another living man
+ Had strength to teach;--and therefore gratitude
+ Is bold, and would relieve itself by praise.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Wherefore press this on me?
+
+OSWALD Because I feel
+ That you have shown, and by a signal instance,
+ How they who would be just must seek the rule
+ By diving for it into their own bosoms.
+ To-day you have thrown off a tyranny
+ That lives but in the torpid acquiescence
+ Of our emasculated souls, the tyranny
+ Of the world's masters, with the musty rules
+ By which they uphold their craft from age to age:
+ You have obeyed the only law that sense
+ Submits to recognise; the immediate law,
+ From the clear light of circumstances, flashed
+ Upon an independent Intellect.
+ Henceforth new prospects open on your path;
+ Your faculties should grow with the demand;
+ I still will be your friend, will cleave to you
+ Through good and evil, obloquy and scorn,
+ Oft as they dare to follow on your steps.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I would be left alone.
+
+
+OSWALD (exultingly)
+ I know your motives!
+ I am not of the world's presumptuous judges,
+ Who damn where they can neither see nor feel,
+ With a hard-hearted ignorance; your struggles
+ I witness'd, and now hail your victory.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Spare me awhile that greeting.
+
+
+OSWALD It may be,
+ That some there are, squeamish half-thinking cowards,
+ Who will turn pale upon you, call you murderer,
+ And you will walk in solitude among them.
+ A mighty evil for a strong-built mind!--
+ Join twenty tapers of unequal height
+ And light them joined, and you will see the less
+ How 'twill burn down the taller; and they all
+ Shall prey upon the tallest. Solitude!--
+ The Eagle lives in Solitude!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Even so,
+ The Sparrow so on the house-top, and I,
+ The weakest of God's creatures, stand resolved
+ To abide the issue of my act, alone.
+
+
+OSWALD _Now_ would you? and for ever?--My young Friend,
+ As time advances either we become
+ The prey or masters of our own past deeds.
+ Fellowship we _must_ have, willing or no;
+ And if good Angels fail, slack in their duty,
+ Substitutes, turn our faces where we may,
+ Are still forthcoming; some which, though they bear
+ Ill names, can render no ill services,
+ In recompense for what themselves required.
+ So meet extremes in this mysterious world,
+ And opposites thus melt into each other.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Time, since Man first drew breath, has never moved
+ With such a weight upon his wings as now;
+ But they will soon be lightened.
+
+
+OSWALD Ay, look up--
+ Cast round you your mind's eye, and you will learn
+ Fortitude is the child of Enterprise:
+ Great actions move our admiration, chiefly
+ Because they carry in themselves an earnest
+ That we can suffer greatly.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Very true.
+
+
+OSWALD Action is transitory--a step, a blow,
+ The motion of a muscle--this way or that--
+ 'Tis done, and in the after-vacancy
+ We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed:
+ Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark,
+ And shares the nature of infinity.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Truth--and I feel it.
+
+
+OSWALD What! if you had bid
+ Eternal farewell to unmingled joy
+ And the light dancing of the thoughtless heart;
+ It is the toy of fools, and little fit
+ For such a world as this. The wise abjure
+ All thoughts whose idle composition lives
+ In the entire forgetfulness of pain.
+ --I see I have disturbed you.
+
+
+MARMADUKE By no means.
+
+
+OSWALD Compassion!--pity!--pride can do without them;
+ And what if you should never know them more!--
+ He is a puny soul who, feeling pain,
+ Finds ease because another feels it too.
+ If e'er I open out this heart of mine
+ It shall be for a nobler end--to teach
+ And not to purchase puling sympathy.
+ --Nay, you are pale.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ It may be so.
+
+
+OSWALD Remorse--
+ It cannot live with thought; think on, think on,
+ And it will die. What! in this universe,
+ Where the least things control the greatest, where
+ The faintest breath that breathes can move a world;
+ What! feel remorse, where, if a cat had sneezed,
+ A leaf had fallen, the thing had never been
+ Whose very shadow gnaws us to the vitals.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Now, whither are you wandering? That a man
+ So used to suit his language to the time,
+ Should thus so widely differ from himself--
+ It is most strange.
+
+
+OSWALD Murder!--what's in the word!--
+ I have no cases by me ready made
+ To fit all deeds. Carry him to the Camp!--
+ A shallow project;--you of late have seen
+ More deeply, taught us that the institutes
+ Of Nature, by a cunning usurpation
+ Banished from human intercourse, exist
+ Only in our relations to the brutes
+ That make the fields their dwelling. If a snake
+ Crawl from beneath our feet we do not ask
+ A license to destroy him: our good governors
+ Hedge in the life of every pest and plague
+ That bears the shape of man; and for what purpose,
+ But to protect themselves from extirpation?--
+ This flimsy barrier you have overleaped.
+
+
+MARMADUKE My Office is fulfilled--the Man is now
+ Delivered to the Judge of all things.
+
+
+OSWALD
+ Dead!
+
+MARMADUKE I have borne my burthen to its destined end.
+
+
+OSWALD This instant we'll return to our Companions--
+ Oh how I long to see their faces again!
+
+
+[Enter IDONEA with Pilgrims who continue their journey.]
+
+
+IDONEA (after some time)
+ What, Marmaduke! now thou art mine for ever.
+ And Oswald, too!
+ (To MARMADUKE.) On will we to my Father
+ With the glad tidings which this day hath brought;
+ We'll go together, and, such proof received
+ Of his own rights restored, his gratitude
+ To God above will make him feel for ours.
+
+
+OSWALD I interrupt you?
+
+
+IDONEA Think not so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Idonea,
+ That I should ever live to see this moment!
+
+
+IDONEA Forgive me.--Oswald knows it all--he knows,
+ Each word of that unhappy letter fell
+ As a blood drop from my heart.
+
+
+OSWALD 'Twas even so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I have much to say, but for whose ear?--not thine.
+
+
+IDONEA Ill can I bear that look--Plead for me, Oswald!
+ You are my Father's Friend.
+ (To MARMADUKE.) Alas, you know not,
+ And never _can_ you know, how much he loved me.
+ Twice had he been to me a father, twice
+ Had given me breath, and was I not to be
+ His daughter, once his daughter? could I withstand
+ His pleading face, and feel his clasping arms,
+ And hear his prayer that I would not forsake him
+ In his old age--
+ [Hides her face.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE Patience--Heaven grant me patience!--
+ She weeps, she weeps--_my_ brain shall burn for hours
+ Ere _I_ can shed a tear.
+
+
+IDONEA I was a woman;
+ And, balancing the hopes that are the dearest
+ To womankind with duty to my Father,
+ I yielded up those precious hopes, which nought
+ On earth could else have wrested from me;--if erring,
+ Oh let me be forgiven!
+
+
+MARMADUKE I _do_ forgive thee.
+
+
+IDONEA But take me to your arms--this breast, alas!
+ It throbs, and you have a heart that does not feel it.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (exultingly)
+ She is innocent. [He embraces her.]
+
+
+OSWALD (aside)
+ Were I a Moralist,
+ I should make wondrous revolution here;
+ It were a quaint experiment to show
+ The beauty of truth-- [Addressing them.]
+ I see I interrupt you;
+ I shall have business with you, Marmaduke;
+ Follow me to the Hostel.
+
+ [Exit OSWALD.]
+
+
+IDONEA Marmaduke,
+ This is a happy day. My Father soon
+ Shall sun himself before his native doors;
+ The lame, the hungry, will be welcome there.
+ No more shall he complain of wasted strength,
+ Of thoughts that fail, and a decaying heart;
+ His good works will be balm and life to him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE This is most strange!--I know not what it was,
+ But there was something which most plainly said,
+ That thou wert innocent.
+
+
+IDONEA How innocent!--
+ Oh heavens! you've been deceived.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Thou art a Woman
+ To bring perdition on the universe.
+
+
+IDONEA Already I've been punished to the height
+ Of my offence.
+ [Smiling affectionately.]
+ I see you love me still,
+ The labours of my hand are still your joy;
+ Bethink you of the hour when on your shoulder
+ I hung this belt.
+ [Pointing to the belt on which was suspended HERBERT'S scrip.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE Mercy of Heaven! [Sinks.]
+
+
+IDONEA What ails you? [Distractedly.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE The scrip that held his food, and I forgot
+ To give it back again!
+
+
+IDONEA What mean your words?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I know not what I said--all may be well.
+
+
+IDONEA That smile hath life in it!
+
+
+MARMADUKE This road is perilous;
+ I will attend you to a Hut that stands
+ Near the wood's edge--rest there to-night, I pray you:
+ For me, I have business, as you heard, with Oswald,
+ But will return to you by break of day.
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+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--HERBERT enters exhausted.
+
+
+HERBERT That Chapel-bell in mercy seemed to guide me,
+ But now it mocks my steps; its fitful stroke
+ Can scarcely be the work of human hands.
+ Hear me, ye Men, upon the cliffs, if such
+ There be who pray nightly before the Altar.
+ Oh that I had but strength to reach the place!
+ My Child--my Child--dark--dark--I faint--this wind--
+ These stifling blasts--God help me!
+
+
+[Enter ELDRED.]
+
+
+ELDRED Better this bare rock,
+ Though it were tottering over a man's head,
+ Than a tight case of dungeon walls for shelter
+ From such rough dealing.
+ [A moaning voice is heard.]
+ Ha! what sound is that?
+ Trees creaking in the wind (but none are here)
+ Send forth such noises--and that weary bell!
+ Surely some evil Spirit abroad to-night
+ Is ringing it--'twould stop a Saint in prayer,
+ And that--what is it? never was sound so like
+ A human groan. Ha! what is here? Poor Man--
+ Murdered! alas! speak--speak, I am your friend:
+ No answer--hush--lost wretch, he lifts his hand
+ And lays it to his heart--
+ (Kneels to him.) I pray you speak!
+ What has befallen you?
+
+
+HERBERT (feebly)
+ A stranger has done this,
+ And in the arms of a stranger I must die.
+
+ELDRED Nay, think not so: come, let me raise you up:
+ [Raises him.]
+ This is a dismal place--well--that is well--
+ I was too fearful--take me for your guide
+ And your support--my hut is not far off.
+ [Draws him gently off the stage.]
+
+
+
+SCENE--A room in the Hostel--MARMADUKE and OSWALD
+
+
+MARMADUKE But for Idonea!--I have cause to think
+ That she is innocent.
+
+
+OSWALD Leave that thought awhile,
+ As one of those beliefs which in their hearts
+ Lovers lock up as pearls, though oft no better
+ Than feathers clinging to their points of passion.
+ This day's event has laid on me the duty
+ Of opening out my story; you must hear it,
+ And without further preface.--In my youth,
+ Except for that abatement which is paid
+ By envy as a tribute to desert,
+ I was the pleasure of all hearts, the darling
+ Of every tongue--as you are now. You've heard
+ That I embarked for Syria. On our voyage
+ Was hatched among the crew a foul Conspiracy
+ Against my honour, in the which our Captain
+ Was, I believed, prime Agent. The wind fell;
+ We lay becalmed week after week, until
+ The water of the vessel was exhausted;
+ I felt a double fever in my veins,
+ Yet rage suppressed itself;--to a deep stillness
+ Did my pride tame my pride;--for many days,
+ On a dead sea under a burning sky,
+ I brooded o'er my injuries, deserted
+ By man and nature;--if a breeze had blown,
+ It might have found its way into my heart,
+ And I had been--no matter--do you mark me?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Quick--to the point--if any untold crime
+ Doth haunt your memory.
+
+
+OSWALD Patience, hear me further!--
+ One day in silence did we drift at noon
+ By a bare rock, narrow, and white, and bare;
+ No food was there, no drink, no grass, no shade,
+ No tree, nor jutting eminence, nor form
+ Inanimate large as the body of man,
+ Nor any living thing whose lot of life
+ Might stretch beyond the measure of one moon.
+ To dig for water on the spot, the Captain
+ Landed with a small troop, myself being one:
+ There I reproached him with his treachery.
+ Imperious at all times, his temper rose;
+ He struck me; and that instant had I killed him,
+ And put an end to his insolence, but my Comrades
+ Rushed in between us: then did I insist
+ (All hated him, and I was stung to madness)
+ That we should leave him there, alive!--we did so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And he was famished?
+
+
+OSWALD Naked was the spot;
+ Methinks I see it now--how in the sun
+ Its stony surface glittered like a shield;
+ And in that miserable place we left him,
+ Alone but for a swarm of minute creatures
+ Not one of which could help him while alive,
+ Or mourn him dead.
+
+
+MARMADUKE A man by men cast off,
+ Left without burial! nay, not dead nor dying,
+ But standing, walking, stretching forth his arms,
+ In all things like ourselves, but in the agony
+ With which he called for mercy; and--even so--
+ He was forsaken?
+
+
+OSWALD There is a power in sounds:
+ The cries he uttered might have stopped the boat
+ That bore us through the water--
+
+
+MARMADUKE You returned
+ Upon that dismal hearing--did you not?
+
+
+OSWALD Some scoffed at him with hellish mockery,
+ And laughed so loud it seemed that the smooth sea
+ Did from some distant region echo us.
+
+
+MARMADUKE We all are of one blood, our veins are filled
+ At the same poisonous fountain!
+
+
+OSWALD 'Twas an island
+ Only by sufferance of the winds and waves,
+ Which with their foam could cover it at will.
+ I know not how he perished; but the calm,
+ The same dead calm, continued many days.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ But his own crime had brought on him this doom,
+ His wickedness prepared it; these expedients
+ Are terrible, yet ours is not the fault.
+
+
+OSWALD The man was famished, and was innocent!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Impossible!
+
+
+OSWALD The man had never wronged me.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Banish the thought, crush it, and be at peace.
+ His guilt was marked--these things could never be
+ Were there not eyes that see, and for good ends,
+ Where ours are baffled.
+
+
+OSWALD I had been deceived.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And from that hour the miserable man
+ No more was heard of?
+
+
+OSWALD I had been betrayed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And he found no deliverance!
+
+
+OSWALD The Crew
+ Gave me a hearty welcome; they had laid
+ The plot to rid themselves, at any cost,
+ Of a tyrannic Master whom they loathed.
+ So we pursued our voyage: when we landed,
+ The tale was spread abroad; my power at once
+ Shrunk from me; plans and schemes, and lofty hopes--
+ All vanished. I gave way--do you attend?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The Crew deceived you?
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, command yourself.
+
+
+MARMADUKE It is a dismal night--how the wind howls!
+
+
+OSWALD I hid my head within a Convent, there
+ Lay passive as a dormouse in mid winter.
+ That was no life for me--I was o'erthrown
+ But not destroyed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE The proofs--you ought to have seen
+ The guilt--have touched it--felt it at your heart--
+ As I have done.
+
+
+OSWALD A fresh tide of Crusaders
+ Drove by the place of my retreat: three nights
+ Did constant meditation dry my blood;
+ Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
+ Through words and things, a dim and perilous way;
+ And, wheresoe'er I turned me, I beheld
+ A slavery compared to which the dungeon
+ And clanking chains are perfect liberty.
+ You understand me--I was comforted;
+ I saw that every possible shape of action
+ Might lead to good--I saw it and burst forth
+ Thirsting for some of those exploits that fill
+ The earth for sure redemption of lost peace.
+ [Marking MARMADUKE'S countenance.]
+ Nay, you have had the worst. Ferocity
+ Subsided in a moment, like a wind
+ That drops down dead out of a sky it vexed.
+ And yet I had within me evermore
+ A salient spring of energy; I mounted
+ From action up to action with a mind
+ That never rested--without meat or drink
+ Have I lived many days--my sleep was bound
+ To purposes of reason--not a dream
+ But had a continuity and substance
+ That waking life had never power to give.
+
+
+MARMADUKE O wretched Human-kind!--Until the mystery
+ Of all this world is solved, well may we envy
+ The worm, that, underneath a stone whose weight
+ Would crush the lion's paw with mortal anguish,
+ Doth lodge, and feed, and coil, and sleep, in safety.
+ Fell not the wrath of Heaven upon those traitors?
+
+
+OSWALD Give not to them a thought. From Palestine
+ We marched to Syria: oft I left the Camp,
+ When all that multitude of hearts was still,
+ And followed on, through woods of gloomy cedar,
+ Into deep chasms troubled by roaring streams;
+ Or from the top of Lebanon surveyed
+ The moonlight desert, and the moonlight sea:
+ In these my lonely wanderings I perceived
+ What mighty objects do impress their forms
+ To elevate our intellectual being;
+ And felt, if aught on earth deserves a curse,
+ 'Tis that worst principle of ill which dooms
+ A thing so great to perish self-consumed.
+ --So much for my remorse!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Unhappy Man!
+
+
+OSWALD When from these forms I turned to contemplate
+ The World's opinions and her usages,
+ I seemed a Being who had passed alone
+ Into a region of futurity,
+ Whose natural element was freedom--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Stop--
+ I may not, cannot, follow thee.
+
+
+OSWALD You must.
+ I had been nourished by the sickly food
+ Of popular applause. I now perceived
+ That we are praised, only as men in us
+ Do recognise some image of themselves,
+ An abject counterpart of what they are,
+ Or the empty thing that they would wish to be.
+ I felt that merit has no surer test
+ Than obloquy; that, if we wish to serve
+ The world in substance, not deceive by show,
+ We must become obnoxious to its hate,
+ Or fear disguised in simulated scorn.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I pity, can forgive, you; but those wretches--
+ That monstrous perfidy!
+
+
+OSWALD Keep down your wrath.
+ False Shame discarded, spurious Fame despised,
+ Twin sisters both of Ignorance, I found
+ Life stretched before me smooth as some broad way
+ Cleared for a monarch's progress. Priests might spin
+ Their veil, but not for me--'twas in fit place
+ Among its kindred cobwebs. I had been,
+ And in that dream had left my native land,
+ One of Love's simple bondsmen--the soft chain
+ Was off for ever; and the men, from whom
+ This liberation came, you would destroy:
+ Join me in thanks for their blind services.
+
+
+MARMADUKE 'Tis a strange aching that, when we would curse
+ And cannot.--You have betrayed me--I have done--
+ I am content--I know that he is guiltless--
+ That both are guiltless, without spot or stain,
+ Mutually consecrated. Poor old Man!
+ And I had heart for this, because thou lovedst
+ Her who from very infancy had been
+ Light to thy path, warmth to thy blood!--Together
+ [Turning to OSWALD.]
+ We propped his steps, he leaned upon us both.
+
+
+OSWALD Ay, we are coupled by a chain of adamant;
+ Let us be fellow-labourers, then, to enlarge
+ Man's intellectual empire. We subsist
+ In slavery; all is slavery; we receive
+ Laws, but we ask not whence those laws have come;
+ We need an inward sting to goad us on.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Have you betrayed me? Speak to that.
+
+
+OSWALD The mask,
+ Which for a season I have stooped to wear,
+ Must be cast off.--Know then that I was urged,
+ (For other impulse let it pass) was driven,
+ To seek for sympathy, because I saw
+ In you a mirror of my youthful self;
+ I would have made us equal once again,
+ But that was a vain hope. You have struck home,
+ With a few drops of blood cut short the business;
+ Therein for ever you must yield to me.
+ But what is done will save you from the blank
+ Of living without knowledge that you live:
+ Now you are suffering--for the future day,
+ 'Tis his who will command it.--Think of my story--
+ Herbert is _innocent_.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (in a faint voice, and doubtingly)
+ You do but echo
+ My own wild words?
+
+
+OSWALD Young Man, the seed must lie
+ Hid in the earth, or there can be no harvest;
+ 'Tis Nature's law. What I have done in darkness
+ I will avow before the face of day.
+ Herbert _is_ innocent.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What fiend could prompt
+ This action? Innocent!--oh, breaking heart!--
+ Alive or dead, I'll find him.
+
+ [Exit.]
+
+
+OSWALD
+ Alive--perdition!
+
+ [Exit.]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE--The inside of a poor Cottage
+
+ELEANOR and IDONEA seated
+
+
+IDONEA The storm beats hard--Mercy for poor or rich,
+ Whose heads are shelterless in such a night!
+
+
+A VOICE WITHOUT
+ Holla! to bed, good Folks, within!
+
+
+ELEANOR O save us!
+
+
+IDONEA What can this mean?
+
+
+ELEANOR Alas, for my poor husband!--
+ We'll have a counting of our flocks to-morrow;
+ The wolf keeps festival these stormy nights:
+ Be calm, sweet Lady, they are wassailers
+ [The voices die away in the distance.]
+ Returning from their Feast--my heart beats so--
+ A noise at midnight does _so_ frighten me.
+
+
+IDONEA Hush! [Listening.]
+
+
+ELEANOR They are gone. On such a night, my husband,
+ Dragged from his bed, was cast into a dungeon,
+ Where, hid from me, he counted many years,
+ A criminal in no one's eyes but theirs--
+ Not even in theirs--whose brutal violence
+ So dealt with him.
+
+
+IDONEA I have a noble Friend
+ First among youths of knightly breeding, One
+ Who lives but to protect the weak or injured.
+ There again!
+ [Listening.]
+
+
+ELEANOR 'Tis my husband's foot. Good Eldred
+ Has a kind heart; but his imprisonment
+ Has made him fearful, and he'll never be
+ The man he was.
+
+
+IDONEA I will retire;--good night!
+ [She goes within.]
+
+
+[Enter ELDRED (hides a bundle)]
+
+
+ELDRED Not yet in bed, Eleanor!--there are stains in that frock
+ which must be washed out.
+
+
+ELEANOR What has befallen you?
+
+
+ELDRED I am belated, and you must know the cause--
+ (speaking low)
+ that is the blood of an unhappy Man.
+
+
+ELEANOR Oh! we are undone for ever.
+
+
+ELDRED 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR Where, where is he?
+
+
+ELDRED I have done him no harm, but----it will be forgiven me; it
+ would not have been so once.
+
+
+ELEANOR You have not _buried_ anything? You are no richer than
+ when you left me?
+
+
+ELDRED Be at peace; I am innocent.
+
+
+ELEANOR Then God be thanked--
+
+ [A short pause; she falls upon his neck.]
+
+
+ELDRED 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR (as if ready to run)
+ Where is he? You were not able to bring him _all_ the way
+ with you; let us return, I can help you.
+
+
+ [ELDRED shakes his head.]
+
+
+ELDRED 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR Oh that I had been by your side!
+
+
+ELDRED 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR But, for the stains of blood--
+
+
+ELDRED He must have fallen, I fancy, for his head was cut; but I
+ think his malady was cold and hunger.
+
+
+ELEANOR Oh, Eldred, I shall never be able to look up at this roof
+ in storm or fair but I shall tremble.
+
+
+ELDRED 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!
+
+
+ELEANOR But did he say nothing which might have set you at ease?
+
+
+ELDRED I thought he grasped my hand while he was muttering
+ something about his Child--his Daughter--
+ (starting as if he heard a noise).
+ What is that?
+
+
+ELEANOR Eldred, you are a father.
+
+
+ELDRED God knows what was in my heart, and will not curse my son
+ for my sake.
+
+
+ELEANOR But you prayed by him? you waited the hour of his release?
+
+
+ELDRED 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!
+
+
+ELEANOR 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.
+
+
+ELDRED Have you forgot your own troubles when I was in the
+ dungeon?
+
+
+ELEANOR And you left him alive?
+
+
+ELDRED Alive!--the damps of death were upon him--he could not
+ have survived an hour.
+
+
+ELEANOR In the cold, cold night.
+
+
+ELDRED (in a savage tone)
+ 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR Is there nothing to be done? cannot we go to the Convent?
+
+
+ELDRED Ay, and say at once that I murdered him!
+
+
+ELEANOR 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.
+
+
+ELDRED 'Tis all in vain.
+
+
+ELEANOR 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.
+
+
+ELDRED He will never open them more; even when he spoke to me, he
+ kept them firmly sealed as if he had been blind.
+
+
+IDONEA (rushing out)
+ It is, it is, my Father--
+
+
+ELDRED We are betrayed
+ (looking at IDONEA).
+
+
+ELEANOR His Daughter!--God have mercy!
+ (turning to IDONEA)
+
+
+IDONEA (sinking down)
+ Oh! lift me up and carry me to the place.
+ You are safe; the whole world shall not harm you.
+
+
+ELEANOR This Lady is his Daughter.
+
+
+ELDRED (moved)
+ I'll lead you to the spot.
+
+
+IDONEA (springing up)
+ Alive!--you heard him breathe? quick, quick--
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+SCENE--A wood on the edge of the Waste
+
+Enter OSWALD and a Forester.
+
+
+FORESTER He leaned upon the bridge that spans the glen,
+ And down into the bottom cast his eye,
+ That fastened there, as it would check the current.
+
+
+OSWALD He listened too; did you not say he listened?
+
+
+FORESTER As if there came such moaning from the flood
+ As is heard often after stormy nights.
+
+
+OSWALD But did he utter nothing?
+
+
+FORESTER See him there!
+
+
+[MARMADUKE appearing.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE Buzz, buzz, ye black and winged freebooters;
+ That is no substance which ye settle on!
+
+
+FORESTER His senses play him false; and see, his arms
+ Outspread, as if to save himself from falling!--
+ Some terrible phantom I believe is now
+ Passing before him, such as God will not
+ Permit to visit any but a man
+ Who has been guilty of some horrid crime.
+
+
+[MARMADUKE disappears.]
+
+
+OSWALD The game is up!--
+
+
+FORESTER If it be needful, Sir,
+ I will assist you to lay hands upon him.
+
+
+OSWALD No, no, my Friend, you may pursue your business--
+ 'Tis a poor wretch of an unsettled mind,
+ Who has a trick of straying from his keepers;
+ We must be gentle. Leave him to my care.
+ [Exit Forester.]
+ If his own eyes play false with him, these freaks
+ Of fancy shall be quickly tamed by mine;
+ The goal is reached. My Master shall become
+ A shadow of myself--made by myself.
+
+
+SCENE--The edge of the Moor.
+
+MARMADUKE and ELDRED enter from opposite sides.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (raising his eyes and perceiving ELDRED)
+ In any corner of this savage Waste,
+ Have you, good Peasant, seen a blind old Man?
+
+
+ELDRED I heard--
+
+
+MARMADUKE You heard him, where? when heard him?
+
+
+ELDRED As you know
+ The first hours of last night were rough with storm:
+ I had been out in search of a stray heifer;
+ Returning late, I heard a moaning sound;
+ Then, thinking that my fancy had deceived me,
+ I hurried on, when straight a second moan,
+ A human voice distinct, struck on my ear.
+ So guided, distant a few steps, I found
+ An aged Man, and such as you describe.
+
+
+MARMADUKE You heard!--he called you to him? Of all men
+ The best and kindest!--but where is he? guide me,
+ That I may see him.
+
+
+ELDRED On a ridge of rocks
+ A lonesome Chapel stands, deserted now:
+ The bell is left, which no one dares remove;
+ And, when the stormy wind blows o'er the peak,
+ It rings, as if a human hand were there
+ To pull the cord. I guess he must have heard it;
+ And it had led him towards the precipice,
+ To climb up to the spot whence the sound came;
+ But he had failed through weakness. From his hand
+ His staff had dropped, and close upon the brink
+ Of a small pool of water he was laid,
+ As if he had stooped to drink, and so remained
+ Without the strength to rise.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Well, well, he lives,
+ And all is safe: what said he?
+
+
+ELDRED But few words:
+ He only spake to me of a dear Daughter,
+ Who, so he feared, would never see him more;
+ And of a Stranger to him, One by whom
+ He had been sore misused; but he forgave
+ The wrong and the wrong-doer. You are troubled--
+ Perhaps you are his son?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The All-seeing knows,
+ I did not think he had a living Child.--
+ But whither did you carry him?
+
+
+ELDRED He was torn,
+ His head was bruised, and there was blood about him--
+
+
+MARMADUKE That was no work of mine.
+
+
+ELDRED Nor was it mine.
+
+
+MARMADUKE But had he strength to walk? I could have borne him
+ A thousand miles.
+
+
+ELDRED I am in poverty,
+ And know how busy are the tongues of men;
+ My heart was willing, Sir, but I am one
+ Whose good deeds will not stand by their own light;
+ And, though it smote me more than words can tell,
+ I left him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I believe that there are phantoms,
+ That in the shape of man do cross our path
+ On evil instigation, to make sport
+ Of our distress--and thou art one of them!
+ But things substantial have so pressed on me--
+
+
+ELDRED My wife and children came into my mind.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Oh Monster! Monster! there are three of us,
+ And we shall howl together.
+ [After a pause and in a feeble voice.]
+ I am deserted
+ At my worst need, my crimes have in a net
+ (Pointing to ELDRED) Entangled this poor man.--
+ Where was it? where?
+ [Dragging him along.]
+
+
+ELDRED 'Tis needless; spare your violence. His Daughter--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ay, in the word a thousand scorpions lodge:
+ This old man _had_ a Daughter.
+
+
+ELDRED To the spot
+ I hurried back with her.--Oh save me, Sir,
+ From such a journey!--there was a black tree,
+ A single tree; she thought it was her Father.--
+ Oh Sir, I would not see that hour again
+ For twenty lives. The daylight dawned, and now--
+ Nay; hear my tale, 'tis fit that you should hear it--
+ As we approached, a solitary crow
+ Rose from the spot;--the Daughter clapped her hands,
+ And then I heard a shriek so terrible
+ [MARMADUKE shrinks back.]
+ The startled bird quivered upon the wing.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Dead, dead!--
+
+
+ELDRED (after a pause)
+ A dismal matter, Sir, for me,
+ And seems the like for you; if 'tis your wish,
+ I'll lead you to his Daughter; but 'twere best
+ That she should be prepared; I'll go before.
+
+
+MARMADUKE There will be need of preparation.
+
+
+ [ELDRED goes off.]
+
+
+ELEANOR (enters)
+ Master!
+ Your limbs sink under you, shall I support you?
+
+
+MARMADUKE (taking her arm)
+ Woman, I've lent my body to the service
+ Which now thou tak'st upon thee. God forbid
+ That thou shouldst ever meet a like occasion
+ With such a purpose in thine heart as mine was.
+
+
+ELEANOR Oh, why have I to do with things like these?
+
+ [Exeunt.]
+
+
+
+SCENE changes to the door of ELDRED'S cottage--IDONEA seated--enter
+ELDRED.
+
+
+ELDRED Your Father, Lady, from a wilful hand
+ Has met unkindness; so indeed he told me,
+ And you remember such was my report:
+ From what has just befallen me I have cause
+ To fear the very worst.
+
+
+IDONEA My Father is dead;
+ Why dost thou come to me with words like these?
+
+
+ELDRED A wicked Man should answer for his crimes.
+
+
+IDONEA Thou seest me what I am.
+
+
+ELDRED It was most heinous,
+ And doth call out for vengeance.
+
+
+IDONEA Do not add,
+ I prith'ee, to the harm thou'st done already.
+
+
+ELDRED Hereafter you will thank me for this service.
+ Hard by, a Man I met, who, from plain proofs
+ Of interfering Heaven, I have no doubt,
+ Laid hands upon your Father. Fit it were
+ You should prepare to meet him.
+
+
+IDONEA I have nothing
+ To do with others; help me to my Father--
+ [She turns and sees MARMADUKE leaning on ELEANOR--throws herself
+ upon his neck, and after some time,]
+ In joy I met thee, but a few hours past;
+ And thus we meet again; one human stay
+ Is left me still in thee. Nay, shake not so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE In such a wilderness--to see no thing,
+ No, not the pitying moon!
+
+
+IDONEA And perish so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Without a dog to moan for him.
+
+
+IDONEA Think not of it,
+ But enter there and see him how he sleeps,
+ Tranquil as he had died in his own bed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Tranquil--why not?
+
+
+IDONEA Oh, peace!
+
+
+MARMADUKE He is at peace;
+ His body is at rest: there was a plot,
+ A hideous plot, against the soul of man:
+ It took effect--and yet I baffled it,
+ In _some_ degree.
+
+
+IDONEA Between us stood, I thought,
+ A cup of consolation, filled from Heaven
+ For both our needs; must I, and in thy presence,
+ Alone partake of it?--Beloved Marmaduke!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Give me a reason why the wisest thing
+ That the earth owns shall never choose to die,
+ But some one must be near to count his groans.
+ The wounded deer retires to solitude,
+ And dies in solitude: all things but man,
+ All die in solitude.
+ [Moving towards the cottage door.]
+ Mysterious God,
+ If she had never lived I had not done it!--
+
+
+IDONEA Alas! the thought of such a cruel death
+ Has overwhelmed him.--I must follow.
+
+
+ELDRED Lady!
+ You will do well; (she goes) unjust suspicion may
+ Cleave to this Stranger: if, upon his entering,
+ The dead Man heave a groan, or from his side
+ Uplift his hand--that would be evidence.
+
+
+ELEANOR Shame! Eldred, shame!
+
+
+MARMADUKE (both returning)
+ The dead have but one face.
+ (To himself.)
+ And such a Man--so meek and unoffending--
+ Helpless and harmless as a babe: a Man,
+ By obvious signal to the world's protection,
+ Solemnly dedicated--to decoy him!--
+
+
+IDONEA Oh, had you seen him living!--
+
+
+MARMADUKE I (so filled
+ With horror is this world) am unto thee
+ The thing most precious, that it now contains:
+ Therefore through me alone must be revealed
+ By whom thy Parent was destroyed, Idonea!
+ I have the proofs!--
+
+
+IDONEA O miserable Father!
+ Thou didst command me to bless all mankind;
+ Nor to this moment, have I ever wished
+ Evil to any living thing; but hear me,
+ Hear me, ye Heavens!--
+ (kneeling) --may vengeance haunt the fiend
+ For this most cruel murder: let him live
+ And move in terror of the elements;
+ The thunder send him on his knees to prayer
+ In the open streets, and let him think he sees,
+ If e'er he entereth the house of God,
+ The roof, self-moved, unsettling o'er his head;
+ And let him, when he would lie down at night,
+ Point to his wife the blood-drops on his pillow!
+
+
+MARMADUKE My voice was silent, but my heart hath joined thee.
+
+
+IDONEA (leaning on MARMADUKE)
+ Left to the mercy of that savage Man!
+ How could he call upon his Child!--O Friend!
+ [Turns to MARMADUKE.]
+ My faithful true and only Comforter.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ay, come to me and weep. (He kisses her.)
+ (To ELDRED.) Yes, Varlet, look,
+ The devils at such sights do clap their hands.
+ [ELDRED retires alarmed.]
+
+
+IDONEA Thy vest is torn, thy cheek is deadly pale;
+ Hast thou pursued the monster?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I have found him.--
+ Oh! would that thou hadst perished in the flames!
+
+
+IDONEA Here art thou, then can I be desolate?--
+
+
+MARMADUKE There was a time, when this protecting hand
+ Availed against the mighty; never more
+ Shall blessings wait upon a deed of mine.
+
+
+IDONEA Wild words for me to hear, for me, an orphan,
+ Committed to thy guardianship by Heaven;
+ And, if thou hast forgiven me, let me hope,
+ In this deep sorrow, trust, that I am thine
+ For closer care;--here, is no malady.
+ [Taking his arm.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE There, _is_ a malady--
+ (Striking his heart and forehead.) And here, and here,
+ A mortal malady.--I am accurst:
+ All nature curses me, and in my heart
+ _Thy_ curse is fixed; the truth must be laid bare.
+ It must be told, and borne. I am the man,
+ (Abused, betrayed, but how it matters not)
+ Presumptuous above all that ever breathed,
+ Who, casting as I thought a guilty Person
+ Upon Heaven's righteous judgment, did become
+ An instrument of Fiends. Through me, through me,
+ Thy Father perished.
+
+
+IDONEA Perished--by what mischance?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Belovèd!--if I dared, so would I call thee--
+ Conflict must cease, and, in thy frozen heart,
+ The extremes of suffering meet in absolute peace.
+ [He gives her a letter.]
+
+
+IDONEA (reads)
+ "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.
+ "HERBERT.
+ "MARMADUKE."
+ The writing Oswald's; the signature my Father's:
+ (Looks steadily at the paper.)
+ And here is yours,--or do my eyes deceive me?
+ You have then seen my Father?
+
+
+MARMADUKE He has leaned
+ Upon this arm.
+
+
+IDONEA You led him towards the Convent?
+
+
+MARMADUKE That Convent was Stone-Arthur Castle. Thither
+ We were his guides. I on that night resolved
+ That he should wait thy coming till the day
+ Of resurrection.
+
+
+IDONEA Miserable Woman,
+ Too quickly moved, too easily giving way,
+ I put denial on thy suit, and hence,
+ With the disastrous issue of last night,
+ Thy perturbation, and these frantic words.
+ Be calm, I pray thee!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Oswald--
+
+
+IDONEA Name him not.
+
+
+[Enter Female Beggar.]
+
+
+BEGGAR And he is dead!--that Moor--how shall I cross it?
+ By night, by day, never shall I be able
+ To travel half a mile alone.--Good Lady!
+ Forgive me!--Saints forgive me. Had I thought
+ It would have come to this!--
+
+
+IDONEA What brings you hither? speak!
+
+
+BEGGAR (pointing to MARMADUKE)
+ This innocent Gentleman. Sweet heavens! I told him
+ Such tales of your dead Father!--God is my judge,
+ I thought there was no harm: but that bad Man,
+ He bribed me with his gold, and looked so fierce.
+ Mercy! I said I know not what--oh pity me--
+ I said, sweet Lady, you were not his Daughter--
+ Pity me, I am haunted;--thrice this day
+ My conscience made me wish to be struck blind;
+ And then I would have prayed, and had no voice.
+
+
+IDONEA (to MARMADUKE)
+ Was it my Father?--no, no, no, for he
+ Was meek and patient, feeble, old and blind,
+ Helpless, and loved me dearer than his life
+ --But hear me. For _one_ question, I have a heart
+ That will sustain me. Did you murder him?
+
+
+MARMADUKE No, not by stroke of arm. But learn the process:
+ Proof after proof was pressed upon me; guilt
+ Made evident, as seemed, by blacker guilt,
+ Whose impious folds enwrapped even thee; and truth
+ And innocence, embodied in his looks,
+ His words and tones and gestures, did but serve
+ With me to aggravate his crimes, and heaped
+ Ruin upon the cause for which they pleaded.
+ Then pity crossed the path of my resolve:
+ Confounded, I looked up to Heaven, and cast,
+ Idonea! thy blind Father, on the Ordeal
+ Of the bleak Waste--left him--and so he died!--
+
+[IDONEA sinks senseless; Beggar, ELEANOR, etc., crowd round, and bear
+her off.]
+
+ Why may we speak these things, and do no more;
+ Why should a thrust of the arm have such a power,
+ And words that tell these things be heard in vain?
+ _She_ is not dead. Why!--if I loved this Woman,
+ I would take care she never woke again;
+ But she WILL wake, and she will weep for me,
+ And say, no blame was mine--and so, poor fool,
+ Will waste her curses on another name.
+
+
+[He walks about distractedly.]
+
+[Enter OSWALD.]
+
+
+OSWALD (to himself)
+ Strong to o'erturn, strong also to build up.
+ [To MARMADUKE.]
+ The starts and sallies of our last encounter
+ Were natural enough; but that, I trust,
+ Is all gone by. You have cast off the chains
+ That fettered your nobility of mind--
+ Delivered heart and head!
+ Let us to Palestine;
+ This is a paltry field for enterprise.
+
+MARMADUKE Ay, what shall we encounter next? This issue--
+ 'Twas nothing more than darkness deepening darkness,
+ And weakness crowned with the impotence of death!--
+ Your pupil is, you see, an apt proficient.
+ (ironically)
+ Start not!--Here is another face hard by;
+ Come, let us take a peep at both together,
+ And, with a voice at which the dead will quake,
+ Resound the praise of your morality--
+ Of this too much.
+ [Drawing OSWALD towards the Cottage--stops short at the door.]
+ Men are there, millions, Oswald,
+ Who with bare hands would have plucked out thy heart
+ And flung it to the dogs: but I am raised
+ Above, or sunk below, all further sense
+ Of provocation. Leave me, with the weight
+ Of that old Man's forgiveness on thy heart,
+ Pressing as heavily as it doth on mine.
+ Coward I have been; know, there lies not now
+ Within the compass of a mortal thought,
+ A deed that I would shrink from;--but to endure,
+ That is my destiny. May it be thine:
+ Thy office, thy ambition, be henceforth
+ To feed remorse, to welcome every sting
+ Of penitential anguish, yea with tears.
+ When seas and continents shall lie between us--
+ The wider space the better--we may find
+ In such a course fit links of sympathy,
+ An incommunicable rivalship
+ Maintained, for peaceful ends beyond our view.
+ [Confused voices--several of the Band enter--rush upon OSWALD and
+ seize him.]
+
+
+ONE OF THEM I would have dogged him to the jaws of hell--
+
+
+OSWALD Ha! is it so!--That vagrant Hag!--this comes
+ Of having left a thing like her alive! [Aside.]
+
+
+SEVERAL VOICES
+ Despatch him!
+
+
+OSWALD If I pass beneath a rock
+ And shout, and, with the echo of my voice,
+ Bring down a heap of rubbish, and it crush me,
+ I die without dishonour. Famished, starved,
+ A Fool and Coward blended to my wish!
+ [Smiles scornfully and exultingly at MARMADUKE.]
+
+
+WALLACE 'Tis done! (Stabs him.)
+
+
+ANOTHER OF THE BAND
+ The ruthless traitor!
+
+
+MARMADUKE A rash deed!--
+ With that reproof I do resign a station
+ Of which I have been proud.
+
+
+
+WILFRED (approaching MARMADUKE)
+ O my poor Master!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Discerning Monitor, my faithful Wilfred,
+ Why art thou here?
+ [Turning to WALLACE.]
+ Wallace, upon these Borders,
+ Many there be whose eyes will not want cause
+ To weep that I am gone. Brothers in arms!
+ Raise on that dreary Waste a monument
+ That may record my story: nor let words--
+ Few must they be, and delicate in their touch
+ As light itself--be there withheld from Her
+ Who, through most wicked arts, was made an orphan
+ By One who would have died a thousand times,
+ To shield her from a moment's harm. To you,
+ Wallace and Wilfred, I commend the Lady,
+ By lowly nature reared, as if to make her
+ In all things worthier of that noble birth,
+ Whose long-suspended rights are now on the eve
+ Of restoration: with your tenderest care
+ Watch over her, I pray--sustain her--
+
+
+SEVERAL OF THE BAND (eagerly)
+ Captain!
+
+
+MARMADUKE No more of that; in silence hear my doom:
+ A hermitage has furnished fit relief
+ To some offenders; other penitents,
+ Less patient in their wretchedness, have fallen,
+ Like the old Roman, on their own sword's point.
+ They had their choice: a wanderer _must I_ go,
+ The Spectre of that innocent Man, my guide.
+ No human ear shall ever hear me speak;
+ No human dwelling ever give me food,
+ Or sleep, or rest: but, over waste and wild,
+ In search of nothing, that this earth can give,
+ But expiation, will I wander on--
+ A Man by pain and thought compelled to live,
+ Yet loathing life--till anger is appeased
+ In Heaven, and Mercy gives me leave to die.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+In June 1797 Coleridge wrote to his friend Cottle:
+
+ "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 'Robbers' of Schiller, and often in Shakspeare; but in W.
+ there are no inequalities."
+
+
+On August 6, 1800, Charles Lamb wrote to Coleridge:
+
+ "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 _you_, 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."--Ed.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+ [Variant 1:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... female ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1845.
+
+ Ha! ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1849.
+
+ With whom you parted? 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... o'er ... 1842.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: He doubtless refers to the lines (Act iii. l. 405) "Action
+is transitory--a step, a blow," etc., which followed the Dedication of
+'The White Doe of Rylstone' in the edition of 1836.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Note prefixed to the edition of 1842.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: Note appended to the edition of 1842.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN
+
+
+Composed 1797.--Published 1800.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+Placed by Wordsworth among his "Poems of the Imagination."--Ed.
+
+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, 'The Borderers', brought on the stage. The
+title of the poem from 1800 to 1805 was 'Poor Susan'.--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
+ Hangs a Thrush [1] that sings loud, it has sung for three years:
+ Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard
+ In the silence of morning the song of the Bird.
+
+ 'Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees 5
+ A mountain ascending, a vision of trees;
+ Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide,
+ And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
+
+ Green pastures she views [A] in the midst of the dale,
+ Down which she so often has tripped with her pail; 10
+ And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove's,
+ The one only [2] dwelling on earth that she loves.
+
+ She looks, and her heart is in heaven: but they fade,
+ The mist and the river, the hill and the shade:
+ The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise, 15
+ And the colours have all passed away from her eyes! [3]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1820.
+
+ There's a Thrush ... 1800.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1802.
+
+ The only one ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 3: The following stanza, in the edition of 1800, was omitted in
+subsequent ones:
+
+ Poor Outcast! return--to receive thee once more
+ The house of thy Father will open its door,
+ And thou once again, in thy plain russet gown,
+ May'st hear the thrush sing from a tree of its own. [i]]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: Wordsworth originally wrote "sees." S.T.C. suggested
+"views."--Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE ON VARIANT 3
+
+[Sub-Footnote i:
+
+ "Susan stood for the representative of poor '_Rus in urbe_.' 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."
+
+Charles Lamb to Wordsworth. See 'The Letters of Charles Lamb', edited by
+Alfred Ainger, vol. i., p. 287.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+1798
+
+A NIGHT PIECE
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1815.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+
+Classed by Wordsworth among his "Poems of the Imagination."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ --The sky is overcast
+ With a continuous cloud of texture close,
+ Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon,
+ Which through that veil is indistinctly seen,
+ A dull, contracted circle, yielding light 5
+ So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls,
+ Chequering the ground--from rock, plant, tree, or tower.
+ At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam
+ Startles the pensive traveller while [1] he treads
+ His lonesome path, with unobserving eye 10
+ Bent earthwards; he looks up--the clouds are split
+ Asunder,--and above his head he sees
+ The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens.
+ There, in a black-blue vault she sails along,
+ Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small 15
+ And sharp, and bright, [A] along the dark abyss
+ Drive as she drives: how fast they wheel away,
+ Yet vanish not!--the wind is in the tree,
+ But they are silent;--still they roll along
+ Immeasurably distant; and the vault, 20
+ Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds,
+ Still deepens its unfathomable depth.
+ At length the Vision closes; and the mind,
+ Not undisturbed by the delight it feels,
+ Which slowly settles into peaceful calm, 25
+ Is left to muse upon the solemn scene.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANT ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827
+
+ ... as ... 1815.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote 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:
+
+ "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."
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+WE ARE SEVEN
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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
+ 'Guilt and Sorrow', 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.
+
+ 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 'New Monthly Magazine', 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 'The Ancient Mariner', 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
+ 'Voyages', 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--
+
+ And listen'd like a three years' child;
+ The Mariner had his will.
+
+ 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. 'The Ancient Mariner' 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
+ 'The Idiot Boy', 'Her eyes are wild', etc., 'We are Seven', 'The
+ Thorn', and some others. To return to 'We are Seven', 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;
+
+ A little child, dear brother Jem,
+
+ 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 'We are Seven'.' 'Nay,'
+ said I, 'that shall take its chance, however'; and he left me in
+ despair. I have only to add, that in the spring [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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+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. 'We are Seven' was placed by Wordsworth among his
+"Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ --A simple Child, [1]
+ That lightly draws its breath,
+ And feels its life in every limb,
+ What should it know of death? [B]
+
+ I met a little cottage Girl: 5
+ She was eight years old, she said;
+ Her hair was thick with many a curl
+ That clustered round her head.
+
+ She had a rustic, woodland air,
+ And she was wildly clad: 10
+ Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
+ --Her beauty made me glad.
+
+ "Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
+ How many may you be?"
+ "How many? Seven in all," she said, 15
+ And wondering looked at me.
+
+ "And where are they? I pray you tell."
+ She answered, "Seven are we;
+ And two of us at Conway dwell,
+ And two are gone to sea. 20
+
+ "Two of us in the church-yard lie,
+ My sister and my brother;
+ And, in the church-yard cottage, I
+ Dwell near them with my mother."
+
+ "You say that two at Conway dwell, 25
+ And two are gone to sea,
+ Yet ye [2] are seven! I pray you tell,
+ Sweet Maid, how this may be."
+
+ Then did the little Maid reply,
+ "Seven boys and girls are we; 30
+ Two of us in the church-yard lie,
+ Beneath the church-yard tree."
+
+ "You run about, my little Maid,
+ Your limbs they are alive;
+ If two are in the church-yard laid, 35
+ Then ye are only five."
+
+ "Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
+ The little Maid replied,
+ "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
+ And they are side by side. 40
+
+ "My stockings there I often knit,
+ My kerchief there I hem;
+ And there upon the ground I sit,
+ And sing a song to them. [3]
+
+ "And often after sun-set, Sir, 45
+ When it is light and fair,
+ I take my little porringer,
+ And eat my supper there.
+
+ "The first that died was sister Jane; [4]
+ In bed she moaning lay, 50
+ Till God released her of her pain;
+ And then she went away.
+
+ "So in the church-yard she was laid;
+ And, when the grass was dry, [5]
+ Together round her grave we played, 55
+ My brother John and I.
+
+ "And when the ground was white with snow,
+ And I could run and slide,
+ My brother John was forced to go,
+ And he lies by her side." 60
+
+ "How many are you, then," said I,
+ "If they two are in heaven?"
+ Quick was the little Maid's reply, [6]
+ "O Master! we are seven."
+
+ "But they are dead; those two are dead! 65
+ Their spirits are in heaven!"
+ 'Twas throwing words away; for still
+ The little Maid would have her will,
+ And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1815.
+
+ A simple child, dear brother Jim, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... you ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ I sit and sing to them. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... little Jane; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1827.
+
+ And all the summer dry, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1836.
+
+ The little Maiden did reply, 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: It was in June, after leaving Alfoxden finally.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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 'We are Seven, or Death', but afterwards restored the original
+title.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ 'Retine vim istam, falsa enim dicam, si coges.'
+
+ EUSEBIUS. [A]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ [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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+In the editions 1798 to 1843 the title of this poem is 'Anecdote for
+Fathers, showing how the practice [1] of lying may be taught'. It was
+placed among the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ I have a boy of five years old;
+ His face is fair and fresh to see;
+ His limbs are cast in beauty's mould,
+ And dearly he loves me.
+
+ One morn we strolled on our dry walk, 5
+ Our quiet home [2] all full in view,
+ And held such intermitted talk
+ As we are wont to do.
+
+ My thoughts on former pleasures ran;
+ I thought of Kilve's delightful shore, 10
+ Our [3] pleasant home when spring began,
+ A long, long year before.
+
+ A day it was when I could bear
+ Some fond regrets to entertain; [4]
+ With so much happiness to spare, 15
+ I could not feel a pain.
+
+ The green earth echoed to the feet
+ Of lambs that bounded through the glade,
+ From shade to sunshine, and as fleet
+ From sunshine back to shade.[5] 20
+
+ Birds warbled round me--and each trace
+ Of inward sadness had its charm;
+ Kilve, thought I, was a favoured place,[6]
+ And so is Liswyn farm.
+
+ My boy beside me tripped, so slim 25
+ And graceful in his rustic dress!
+ And, as we talked, I questioned him, [7]
+ In very idleness.
+
+ "Now tell me, had you rather be,"
+ I said, and took him by the arm, 30
+ "On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea,
+ Or here at Liswyn farm?" [8]
+
+ In careless mood he looked at me,
+ While still I held him by the arm,
+ And said, "At Kilve I'd rather be 35
+ Than here at Liswyn farm."
+
+ "Now, little Edward, say why so:
+ My little Edward, tell me why."--
+ "I cannot tell, I do not know."--
+ "Why, this is strange," said I; 40
+
+ "For, here are woods, hills smooth and warm: [9]
+ There surely must some reason be
+ Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm
+ For Kilve by the green sea."
+
+ At this, my boy hung down his head, 45
+ He blushed with shame, nor made reply; [10]
+ And three times to the child I said, [11]
+ "Why, Edward, tell me why?"
+
+ His head he raised--there was in sight,
+ It caught his eye, he saw it plain-- 50
+ Upon the house-top, glittering bright,
+ A broad and gilded vane.
+
+ Then did the boy his tongue unlock,
+ And eased his mind with this reply: [12]
+ "At Kilve there was no weather-cock; 55
+ And that's the reason why."
+
+ O dearest, dearest boy! my heart
+ For better lore would seldom yearn,
+ Could I but teach the hundredth part
+ Of what from thee I learn. [B] 60
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1800.
+
+ the art ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1802.
+
+ ... house ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1802.
+
+ My ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1827.
+
+ To think, and think, and think again; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1827.
+
+ The young lambs ran a pretty race;
+ The morning sun shone bright and warm;
+ "Kilve," said I, "was a pleasant place,
+ And so is Liswyn farm." 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1836.
+
+ ...--every trace
+ Of inward sadness had its charm;
+ "Kilve," said I, ... 1827.
+
+This verse was introduced in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 7: 1836.
+
+ My boy was by my side, so slim
+ And graceful in his rustic dress!
+ And oftentimes I talked to him, 1798.
+
+This was stanza v. from 1798 to 1820.
+
+ And, as we talked, I questioned him, 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1827.
+
+ "My little boy, which like you more,"
+ I said and took him by the arm--
+ "Our home by Kilve's delightful shore,
+ Or here at Liswyn farm?"
+
+ "And tell me, had you rather be,"
+ I said and held him by the arm,
+ "At Kilve's smooth shore by the green sea,
+ Or here at Liswyn farm?" 1798.
+
+These two stanzas were compressed into one in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1836.
+
+ For, here are woods and green-hills warm; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1800.
+
+ At this, my boy, so fair and slim,
+ Hung down his head, nor made reply; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1845.
+
+ And five times did I say to him, 1798.
+
+ And five times to the child I said, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1836.
+
+ And thus to me he made reply; 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: See Appendix IV.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Mr. Ernest H. Coleridge writes to me of this poem:
+
+ "The Fenwick note is most puzzling.
+
+ 1. If Coleridge went to visit Thelwall, with Wordsworth and Dorothy in
+ July 1798, this is the only record; but I suppose that he did.
+
+ 2. 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.
+
+ 3. 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."
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+"A WHIRL-BLAST FROM BEHIND THE HILL"
+
+
+Composed March 18, 1798.--Published 1800.
+
+
+ [Observed in the holly-grove at Alfoxden, where these verses were
+ written in the spring of 1799. [A] I had the pleasure of again seeing,
+ with dear friends, this grove in unimpaired beauty forty-one years
+ after. [B]--I. F.]
+
+Classed among the "Poems of the Fancy."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ A whirl-blast from behind the hill
+ Rushed o'er the wood with startling sound;
+ Then--all at once the air was still,
+ And showers of hailstones pattered round.
+ Where leafless oaks towered high above, 5
+ I sat within an undergrove
+ Of tallest hollies, tall and green;
+ A fairer bower was never seen.
+ From year to year the spacious floor
+ With withered leaves is covered o'er, 10
+ [1] And all the year the bower is green. [C]
+ But see! where'er the hailstones drop
+ The withered leaves all skip and hop;
+ There's not a breeze--no breath of air--
+ Yet here, and there, and every where 15
+ Along the floor, beneath the shade
+ By those embowering hollies made,
+ The leaves in myriads jump and spring,
+ As if with pipes and music rare
+ Some Robin Good-fellow were there, 20
+ And all those leaves, in festive glee,
+ Were dancing to the minstrelsy. [2] [3] [D]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1820.
+
+ You could not lay a hair between:
+
+Inserted in the editions 1800-1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ And all those leaves, that jump and spring,
+ Were each a joyous, living thing. 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 3: The following additional lines occur in the editions 1800 to
+1805:
+
+ Oh! grant me Heaven a heart at ease
+ That I may never cease to find,
+ Even in appearances like these
+ Enough to nourish and to stir my mind!]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: Compare a letter from Wordsworth to Sir George Beaumont,
+written in November 1806, and one to Lady Beaumont in December
+1806.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote D:
+
+ "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"
+
+(Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal).--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE THORN
+
+
+Composed March 19, 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+In the editions of 1800-1805, Wordsworth added the following note to
+this poem:
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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.
+
+ "Upon this occasion I will request permission to add a few words
+ closely connected with 'The Thorn' 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 'things', 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.
+
+ Awake, awake, Deborah! awake, awake, utter a song: Arise Barak, and
+ lead captivity captive, thou Son of Abinoam.
+
+ 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.
+
+ Why is his Chariot so long in coming? why tarry the Wheels of his
+ Chariot?
+
+ (Judges, chap. v. verses 12th, 27th, and part of 28th.)
+
+ See also the whole of that tumultuous and wonderful Poem."
+
+ "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."
+
+W. W. Advertisement to "Lyrical Ballads," 1798.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ [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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+'The Thorn' was always placed among the "Poems of the Imagination."--Ed.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+I "There is a Thorn--it looks so old,
+ In truth, you'd find it hard to say
+ How it could ever have been young,
+ It looks so old and grey.
+ Not higher than a two years' child 5
+ It stands erect, this aged Thorn;
+ No leaves it has, no prickly [1] points;
+ It is a mass of knotted joints,
+ A wretched thing forlorn.
+ It stands erect, and like a stone 10
+ With lichens is it overgrown. [2]
+
+
+II "Like rock or stone, it is o'ergrown,
+ With lichens to the very top,
+ And hung with heavy tufts of moss,
+ A melancholy crop: 15
+ Up from the earth these mosses creep,
+ And this poor Thorn they clasp it round
+ So close, you'd say that they are [3] bent
+ With plain and manifest intent
+ To drag it to the ground; 20
+ And all have [4] joined in one endeavour
+ To bury this poor Thorn for ever.
+
+
+III "High on a mountain's highest ridge,
+ Where oft the stormy winter gale
+ Cuts like a scythe, while through the clouds 25
+ It sweeps from vale to vale;
+ Not five yards from the mountain path,
+ This Thorn you on your left espy;
+ And to the left, three yards beyond,
+ You see a little muddy pond 30
+ Of water--never dry
+ Though but of compass small, and bare
+ To thirsty suns and parching air. [5] [A]
+
+
+IV "And, close beside this aged Thorn,
+ There is a fresh and lovely sight, 35
+ A beauteous heap, a hill of moss,
+ Just half a foot in height.
+ All lovely colours there you see,
+ All colours that were ever seen;
+ And mossy network too is there, 40
+ As if by hand of lady fair
+ The work had woven been;
+ And cups, the darlings of the eye,
+ So deep is their vermilion dye.
+
+
+V "Ah me! what lovely tints are there 45
+ Of olive green and scarlet bright,
+ In spikes, in branches, and in stars,
+ Green, red, and pearly white!
+ This heap of earth o'ergrown with moss,
+ Which close beside the Thorn you see, 50
+ So fresh in all its beauteous dyes,
+ Is like an infant's grave in size,
+ As like as like can be:
+ But never, never any where,
+ An infant's grave was half so fair. 55
+
+
+VI "Now would you see this aged Thorn,
+ This pond, and beauteous hill of moss,
+ You must take care and choose your time
+ The mountain when to cross.
+ For oft there sits between the heap 60
+ So like [6] an infant's grave in size,
+ And that same pond of which I spoke,
+ A Woman in a scarlet cloak,
+ And to herself she cries,
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery! 65
+ Oh woe is me! oh misery!'
+
+
+VII "At all times of the day and night
+ This wretched Woman thither goes;
+ And she is known to every star,
+ And every wind that blows; 70
+ And there, beside the Thorn, she sits
+ When the blue daylight's in the skies,
+ And when the whirlwind's on the hill,
+ Or frosty air is keen and still
+ And to herself she cries, 75
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery!
+ Oh woe is me! oh misery!'"
+
+
+VIII "Now wherefore, thus, by day and night,
+ In rain, in tempest, and in snow,
+ Thus to the dreary mountain-top 80
+ Does this poor Woman go?
+ And why sits she beside the Thorn
+ When the blue daylight's in the sky,
+ Or when the whirlwind's on the hill,
+ Or frosty air is keen and still, 85
+ And wherefore does she cry?--
+ O wherefore? wherefore? tell me why
+ Does she repeat that doleful cry?"
+
+
+IX "I cannot tell; I wish I could;
+ For the true reason no one knows: 90
+ But would you [7] gladly view the spot,
+ The spot to which she goes;
+ The hillock like [8] an infant's grave,
+ The pond--and Thorn, so old and grey;
+ Pass by her door--'tis seldom shut-- 95
+ And, if you see her in her hut--
+ Then to the spot away!
+ I never heard of such as dare
+ Approach the spot when she is there."
+
+
+X "But wherefore to the mountain-top 100
+ Can this unhappy Woman go,
+ Whatever star is in the skies,
+ Whatever wind may blow?" [9]
+ "Full twenty years are past and gone [10]
+ Since she (her name is Martha Ray) 105
+ Gave with a maiden's true good-will
+ Her company to Stephen Hill;
+ And she was blithe and gay,
+ While friends and kindred all approved
+ Of him whom tenderly she loved. [11] 110
+
+
+XI "And they had fixed the wedding day,
+ The morning that must wed them both;
+ But Stephen to another Maid
+ Had sworn another oath;
+ And, with this other Maid, to church 115
+ Unthinking Stephen went--
+ Poor Martha! on that woeful day
+ A pang of pitiless dismay
+ Into her soul was sent;
+ A fire was kindled in her breast, 121
+ Which might not burn itself to rest. [12]
+
+
+XII "They say, full six months after this,
+ While yet the summer leaves were green,
+ She to the mountain-top would go, 125
+ And there was often seen.
+ What could she seek?--or wish to hide?
+ Her state to any eye was plain; [13]
+ She was with child, and she was mad;
+ Yet often was she [14] sober sad 130
+ From her exceeding pain.
+ O guilty Father--would that death
+ Had saved him from that breach of faith! [15]
+
+
+XIII "Sad case for such a brain to hold
+ Communion with a stirring child! 135
+ Sad case, as you may think, for one
+ Who had a brain so wild!
+ Last Christmas-eve we talked of this,
+ And grey-haired Wilfred of the glen
+ Held that the unborn infant wrought [16] 140
+ About its mother's heart, and brought
+ Her senses back again:
+ And, when at last her time drew near,
+ Her looks were calm, her senses clear.
+
+
+XIV "More know I not, I wish I did, 145
+ And it should all be told to you; [17]
+ For what became of this poor child
+ No mortal ever knew; [18]
+ Nay--if a child to her was born
+ No earthly tongue could ever tell; [19] 150
+ And if 'twas born alive or dead,
+ Far less could this with proof be said; [20]
+ But some remember well,
+ That Martha Ray about this time
+ Would up the mountain often climb. 155
+
+
+XV "And all that winter, when at night
+ The wind blew from the mountain-peak,
+ 'Twas worth your while, though in the dark,
+ The churchyard path to seek:
+ For many a time and oft were heard 160
+ Cries coming from the mountain head:
+ Some plainly living voices were;
+ And others, I've heard many swear,
+ Were voices of the dead:
+ I cannot think, whate'er they say, 165
+ They had to do with Martha Ray.
+
+
+XVI "But that she goes to this old Thorn,
+ The Thorn which I described [21] to you,
+ And there sits in a scarlet cloak,
+ I will be sworn is true. 170
+ For one day with my telescope,
+ To view the ocean wide and bright,
+ When to this country first I came,
+ Ere I had heard of Martha's name,
+ I climbed the mountain's height:-- 175
+ A storm came on, and I could see
+ No object higher than my knee.
+
+
+XVII "'Twas mist and rain, and storm and rain:
+ No screen, no fence could I discover;
+ And then the wind! in sooth, [22] it was 180
+ A wind full ten times over.
+ I looked around, I thought I saw
+ A jutting crag,--and off I ran,
+ Head-foremost, through the driving rain,
+ The shelter of the crag to gain; 185
+ And, as I am a man,
+ Instead of jutting crag, I found
+ A Woman seated on the ground.
+
+
+XVIII "I did not speak--I saw her face;
+ Her face!--it was [23] enough for me: 190
+ I turned about and heard her cry,
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery!'
+ And there she sits, until the moon
+ Through half the clear blue sky will go;
+ And, when the little breezes make 195
+ The waters of the pond to shake,
+ As all the country know,
+ She shudders, and you hear her cry,
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery!'"
+
+
+XIX "But what's the Thorn? and what the pond? 200
+ And what the hill of moss to her?
+ And what the creeping breeze that comes [24]
+ The little pond to stir?"
+ "I cannot tell; but some will say
+ She hanged her baby on the tree; 205
+ Some say she drowned it in the pond,
+ Which is a little step beyond:
+ But all and each agree,
+ The little Babe was buried there,
+ Beneath that hill of moss so fair. 210
+
+
+XX "I've heard, the moss is spotted red [25]
+ With drops of that poor infant's blood;
+ But kill a new-born infant thus,
+ I do not think she could!
+ Some say, if to the pond you go, 215
+ And fix on it a steady view,
+ The shadow of a babe you trace,
+ A baby and a baby's face,
+ And that it looks at you;
+ Whene'er you look on it, 'tis plain 220
+ The baby looks at you again.
+
+
+XXI "And some had sworn an oath that she
+ Should be to public justice brought;
+ And for the little infant's bones
+ With spades they would have sought. 225
+ But instantly the hill of moss [26]
+ Before their eyes began to stir!
+ And, for full fifty yards around,
+ The grass--it shook upon the ground!
+ Yet [27] all do still aver 230
+ The little Babe lies [28] buried there,
+ Beneath that hill of moss so fair.
+
+
+XXII "I cannot tell how this may be
+ But plain it is the Thorn is bound
+ With heavy tufts of moss that strive 235
+ To drag it to the ground;
+ And this I know, full many a time,
+ When she was on the mountain high,
+ By day, and in the silent night,
+ When all the stars shone clear and bright, 240
+ That I have heard her cry,
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery!
+ Oh woe is me! oh misery!'"
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+Compare 'The Heart of Midlothian' (vol. iii. chap. v. edition of 1818):
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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."
+
+ 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.
+
+ 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.
+
+ "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."
+
+ "But what is the matter with you?" said Jeanie. "Why do you weep so
+ bitterly?"
+
+ "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."
+
+Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... thorny ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... it is overgrown. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... were ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... had ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1820.
+
+ I've measured it from side to side:
+ 'Tis three feet long [i] and two feet wide. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+
+1827.
+
+ That's like ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1827.
+
+ But if you'd ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1827.
+
+ The heap that's like ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 9: In the editions 1798 to 1815.
+
+ Nay rack your brain--'tis all in vain,
+ I'll tell you every thing I know;
+ But to the thorn, and to the pond
+ Which is a little step beyond,
+ I wish that you would go:
+ Perhaps when you are at the place
+ You something of her tale may trace.
+
+
+ XI I'll give you the best help I can:
+ Before you up the mountain go,
+ Up to the dreary mountain-top,
+ I'll tell you all I know.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1845.
+
+ 'Tis now some two and twenty years, 1798.
+
+ 'Tis known, that twenty years are passed 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1820.
+
+ And she was happy, happy still
+ Whene'er she thought of Stephen Hill. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... on that woful day
+ A cruel, cruel fire, they say,
+ Into her bones was sent:
+ It dried her body like a cinder,
+ And almost turn'd her brain to tinder. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1836.
+
+ 'Tis said, a child was in her womb,
+ As now to any eye was plain; 1798.
+
+ 'Tis said, her lamentable state
+ Even to a careless eye was plain; 1820.
+
+ Alas! her lamentable state 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... she was... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1820.
+
+ Oh me! ten thousand times I'd rather
+ That he had died, that cruel father! 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1820.
+
+ Last Christmas when we talked of this,
+ Old Farmer Simpson did maintain,
+ That in her womb the infant wrought 1798.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1827.
+
+ No more I know, I wish I did,
+ And I would tell it all to you; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1827.
+
+ There's none that ever knew: 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1827.
+
+ And if a child was born or no,
+ There's no one that could ever tell; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1827.
+
+ There's no one knows, as I have said, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... I've described ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 22:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... in faith, ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1798.
+
+ In truth, it was ... 1800.
+
+The edition of 1815 returns to the text of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 24:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... and what's the pond?
+ And what's the hill of moss to her?
+ And what's the ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 25:
+
+1800.
+
+ I've heard the scarlet moss is red 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 26:
+
+1845.
+
+ But then the beauteous hill of moss 1798.
+
+ It might not be--the Hill of moss 1827.
+
+ But then the beauteous Hill of moss 1832.
+ (Returning to the text of 1798.)
+
+ But then the speckled hill of moss 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 27:
+
+1827.
+
+ But ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 28:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... is buried ... 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A:
+
+ "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" (Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal).--Ed.
+
+ "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"
+ (Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal).--Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE ON THE VARIANT
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: Compare in Bürger's 'Pfarrer's Tochter', "drei Spannen
+lang," and see Appendix V.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+GOODY BLAKE AND HARRY GILL
+
+A TRUE STORY
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [Written at Alfoxden. The incident from Dr. Darwin's 'Zoönomia'.--I.
+ F.]
+
+See Erasmus Darwin's 'Zoönomia', 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 'Il Narratore Italiano'.
+
+ "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."
+
+In the "Advertisement" to the first edition of "Lyrical Ballads,"
+Wordsworth says, "The tale of 'Goody Blake and Harry Gill' is founded on
+a well-authenticated fact which happened in Warwickshire."
+
+The following curious letter appeared in the 'Ipswich Magazine' of April
+1799:
+
+ "IPSWICH, April 2, 1799.
+
+ "To the Editors of the 'Ipswich Magazine'.
+
+ "GENTLEMEN--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 _lyric poet_ into
+ that excellent ballad."
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Oh! what's the matter? what's the matter?
+ What is't that ails young Harry Gill?
+ That evermore his teeth they chatter,
+ Chatter, chatter, chatter still!
+ Of waistcoats Harry has no lack, 5
+ Good duffle grey, and flannel fine;
+ He has a blanket on his back,
+ And coats enough to smother nine.
+
+ In March, December, and in July,
+ 'Tis all the same with Harry Gill; 10
+ The neighbours tell, and tell you truly,
+ His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
+ At night, at morning, and at noon,
+ 'Tis all the same with Harry Gill;
+ Beneath the sun, beneath the moon, 15
+ His teeth they chatter, chatter still!
+
+ Young Harry was a lusty drover,
+ And who so stout of limb as he?
+ His cheeks were red as ruddy clover;
+ His voice was like the voice of three. 20
+ Old [1] Goody Blake was old and poor;
+ Ill fed she was, and thinly clad;
+ And any man who passed her door
+ Might see how poor a hut she had.
+
+ All day she spun in her poor dwelling: 25
+ And then her three hours' work at night,
+ Alas! 'twas hardly worth the telling,
+ It would not pay for candle-light.
+ Remote from sheltered village-green,
+ On a hill's northern side she dwelt, 30
+ Where from sea-blasts the hawthorns lean,
+ And hoary dews are slow to melt. [2]
+
+ By the same fire to boil their pottage,
+ Two poor old Dames, as I have known,
+ Will often live in one small cottage; 35
+ But she, poor Woman! housed [3] alone.
+ 'Twas well enough when summer came,
+ The long, warm, lightsome summer-day,
+ Then at her door the _canty_ Dame
+ Would sit, as any linnet, gay. 40
+
+ But when the ice our streams did fetter,
+ Oh then how her old bones would shake;
+ You would have said, if you had met her,
+ 'Twas a hard time for Goody Blake.
+ Her evenings then were dull and dead: 45
+ Sad case it was, as you may think,
+ For very cold to go to bed;
+ And then for cold not sleep a wink.
+
+ O joy for her! whene'er in winter
+ The winds at night had made a rout; 50
+ And scattered many a lusty splinter
+ And many a rotten bough about.
+ Yet never had she, well or sick,
+ As every man who knew her says,
+ A pile beforehand, turf [4] or stick, 55
+ Enough to warm her for three days.
+
+ Now, when the frost was past enduring,
+ And made her poor old bones to ache,
+ Could anything be more alluring
+ Than an old hedge to Goody Blake? 60
+ And, now and then, it must be said,
+ When her old bones were cold and chill,
+ She left her fire, or left her bed,
+ To seek the hedge of Harry Gill.
+
+ Now Harry he had long suspected 65
+ This trespass of old Goody Blake;
+ And vowed that she should be detected--
+ That [5] he on her would vengeance take.
+ And oft from his warm fire he'd go,
+ And to the fields his road would take; 70
+ And there, at night, in frost and snow,
+ He watched to seize old Goody Blake.
+
+ And once, behind a rick of barley,
+ Thus looking out did Harry stand:
+ The moon was full and shining clearly, 75
+ And crisp with frost the stubble land.
+ --He hears a noise--he's all awake--
+ Again?--on tip-toe down the hill
+ He softly creeps--'tis Goody Blake;
+ She's at the hedge of Harry Gill! 80
+
+ Right glad was he when he beheld her:
+ Stick after stick did Goody pull:
+ He stood behind a bush of elder,
+ Till she had filled her apron full.
+ When with her load she turned about, 85
+ The by-way [6] back again to take;
+ He started forward, with a shout,
+ And sprang upon poor Goody Blake.
+
+ And fiercely by the arm he took her,
+ And by the arm he held her fast, 90
+ And fiercely by the arm he shook her,
+ And cried, "I've caught you then at last!"
+ Then Goody, who had nothing said,
+ Her bundle from her lap let fall;
+ And, kneeling on the sticks, she prayed 95
+ To God that is the judge of all.
+
+ She prayed, her withered hand uprearing,
+ While Harry held her by the arm--
+ "God! who art never out of hearing,
+ O may he never more be warm!" 100
+ The cold, cold moon above her head,
+ Thus on her knees did Goody pray;
+ Young Harry heard what she had said:
+ And icy cold he turned away.
+
+ He went complaining all the morrow 105
+ That he was cold and very chill:
+ His face was gloom, his heart was sorrow,
+ Alas! that day for Harry Gill!
+ That day he wore a riding-coat,
+ But not a whit the warmer he: 110
+ Another was on Thursday brought,
+ And ere the Sabbath he had three.
+
+ 'Twas all in vain, a useless matter,
+ And blankets were about him pinned;
+ Yet still his jaws and teeth they clatter, 115
+ Like a loose casement in the wind.
+ And Harry's flesh it fell away;
+ And all who see him say, 'tis plain
+ That, live as long as live he may,
+ He never will be warm again. 120
+
+ No word to any man he utters,
+ A-bed or up, to young or old;
+ But ever to himself he mutters,
+ "Poor Harry Gill is very cold."
+ A-bed or up, by night or day; 125
+ His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
+ Now think, ye farmers all, I pray,
+ Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill! [A]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1802.
+
+ Auld 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836
+
+ --This woman dwelt in Dorsetshire,
+ Her hut was on a cold hill-side,
+ And in that country coals are dear,
+ For they come far by wind and tide. 1798.
+
+ Remote from sheltering village green,
+ Upon a bleak hill-side, she dwelt,
+ Where from sea-blasts the hawthorns lean,
+ And hoary dews are slow to melt. 1820.
+
+ On a hill's northern side she dwelt. 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 3.
+
+1820.
+
+ ... dwelt ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4.
+
+1827.
+
+ ... wood ... 1798]
+
+
+[Variant 5.
+
+1836.
+
+ And ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6.
+
+1827.
+
+ The bye-road ... 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: Compare the many entries about "gathering sticks" in the
+Alfoxden woods, in Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+HER EYES ARE WILD
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [Written at Alfoxden. The subject was reported to me by a lady of
+ Bristol, who had seen the poor creature.--I. F.]
+
+From 1798 to 1805 this poem was published under the title of 'The Mad
+Mother'.
+
+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.
+
+
+I Her eyes are wild, her head is bare,
+ The sun has burnt her coal-black hair;
+ Her eyebrows have a rusty stain,
+ And she came far from over the main.
+ She has a baby on her arm, 5
+ Or else she were alone:
+ And underneath the hay-stack warm,
+ And on the greenwood stone,
+ She talked and sung the woods among,
+ And it was in the English tongue. 10
+
+
+II "Sweet babe! they say that I am mad
+ But nay, my heart is far too glad;
+ And I am happy when I sing
+ Full many a sad and doleful thing:
+ Then, lovely baby, do not fear! 15
+ I pray thee have no fear of me;
+ But safe as in a cradle, here
+ My lovely baby! thou shalt be:
+ To thee I know too much I owe;
+ I cannot work thee any woe. 20
+
+
+III "A fire was once within my brain;
+ And in my head a dull, dull pain;
+ And fiendish faces, one, two, three,
+ Hung at my breast, [1] and pulled at me;
+ But then there came a sight of joy; 25
+ It came at once to do me good;
+ I waked, and saw my little boy,
+ My little boy of flesh and blood;
+ Oh joy for me that sight to see!
+ For he was here, and only he. 30
+
+
+IV "Suck, little babe, oh suck again!
+ It cools my blood; it cools my brain;
+ Thy lips I feel them, baby! they
+ Draw from my heart the pain away.
+ Oh! press me with thy little hand; 35
+ It loosens something at my chest;
+ About that tight and deadly band
+ I feel thy little fingers prest.
+ The breeze I see is in the tree:
+ It comes to cool my babe and me. 40
+
+
+V "Oh! love me, love me, little boy!
+ Thou art thy mother's only joy;
+ And do not dread the waves below,
+ When o'er the sea-rock's edge we go;
+ The high crag cannot work me harm, 45
+ Nor leaping torrents when they howl;
+ The babe I carry on my arm,
+ He saves for me my precious soul;
+ Then happy lie; for blest am I;
+ Without me my sweet babe would die. 50
+
+
+VI "Then do not fear, my boy! for thee
+ Bold as a lion will I be; [2]
+ And I will always be thy guide,
+ Through hollow snows and rivers wide.
+ I'll build an Indian bower; I know 55
+ The leaves that make the softest bed:
+ And, if from me thou wilt not go,
+ But still be true till I am dead,
+ My pretty thing! then thou shall sing
+ As merry as the birds in spring. 60
+
+
+VII "Thy father cares not for my breast,
+ 'Tis thine, sweet baby, there to rest;
+ 'Tis all thine own!--and, if its hue
+ Be changed, that was so fair to view,
+ 'Tis fair enough for thee, my dove! 65
+ My beauty, little child, is flown,
+ But thou wilt live with me in love;
+ And what if my poor cheek be brown?
+ 'Tis well for me, thou canst not see
+ How pale and wan it else would be. 70
+
+
+VIII "Dread not their taunts, my little Life;
+ I am thy father's wedded wife;
+ And underneath the spreading tree
+ We two will live in honesty.
+ If his sweet boy he could forsake, 75
+ With me he never would have stayed:
+ From him no harm my babe can take;
+ But he, poor man! is wretched made;
+ And every day we two will pray
+ For him that's gone and far away. 80
+
+
+IX "I'll teach my boy the sweetest things:
+ I'll teach him how the owlet sings.
+ My little babe! thy lips are still,
+ And thou hast almost sucked thy fill.
+ --Where art thou gone, my own dear child? 85
+ What wicked looks are those I see?
+ Alas! alas! that look so wild,
+ It never, never came from me:
+ If thou art mad, my pretty lad,
+ Then I must be for ever sad. 90
+
+
+X "Oh! smile on me, my little lamb!
+ For I thy own dear mother am:
+ My love for thee has well been tried:
+ I've sought thy father far and wide.
+ I know the poisons of the shade; 95
+ I know the earth-nuts fit for food:
+ Then, pretty dear, be not afraid:
+ We'll find thy father in the wood.
+ Now laugh and be gay, to the woods away!
+ And there, my babe, we'll live for aye." [A] 100
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1.
+
+1820.
+
+ ... breasts ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2.
+
+1832.
+
+ ... I will be; 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A:
+
+ "For myself, I would rather have written 'The Mad Mother' 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."
+
+(S. T. C. to W. Godwin, 9th December 1800.) See 'William Godwin: his
+Friends and Contemporaries', vol. ii. p. 14.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+SIMON LEE, THE OLD HUNTSMAN;
+
+WITH AN INCIDENT IN WHICH HE WAS CONCERNED
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+This poem was classed among those of "Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ In the sweet shire of Cardigan,
+ Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall,
+ An old Man dwells, a little man,--
+ 'Tis said [1] he once was tall.
+ [2] Full five-and-thirty [3] years he lived 5
+ A running huntsman merry;
+ And still the centre of his cheek
+ Is red as a ripe cherry. [4]
+
+ No man like him the horn could sound,
+ And hill and valley rang with glee: 10
+ When Echo bandied, round and round,
+ The halloo of Simon Lee.
+ In those proud days, he little cared
+ For husbandry or tillage;
+ To blither tasks did Simon rouse 15
+ The sleepers of the village. [5]
+
+ He all the country could outrun,
+ Could leave both man and horse behind;
+ And often, ere the chase [6] was done,
+ He reeled, and was stone blind. 20
+ And still there's something in the world
+ At which his heart rejoices;
+ For when the chiming hounds are out,
+ He dearly loves their voices!
+
+ But, oh the heavy change! [A]--bereft 25
+ Of health, strength, friends, and kindred, see! [7]
+ Old Simon to the world is left
+ In liveried poverty.
+ His Master's dead,--and no one now
+ Dwells in the Hall of Ivor; 30
+ Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;
+ He is the sole survivor. [8]
+
+ And [9] he is lean and he is sick;
+ His body, dwindled and awry,
+ Rests upon ankles swoln and thick; 35
+ His legs are thin and dry.
+ One prop he has, and only one,
+ His wife, an aged woman,
+ Lives with him, near the waterfall,
+ Upon the village Common. [10] 40
+
+ Beside their moss-grown hut of clay,
+ Not twenty paces from the door,
+ A scrap of land they have, but they
+ Are poorest of the poor.
+ This scrap of land he from the heath 45
+ Enclosed when he was stronger;
+ But what to them avails the land
+ Which he can till no longer? [11]
+
+ Oft, working by her Husband's side,
+ Ruth does what Simon cannot do; 50
+ For she, with scanty cause for pride, [12]
+ Is stouter of the two.
+ And, though you with your utmost skill
+ From labour could not wean them,
+ 'Tis little, very little--all 55
+ That they can do between them. [13]
+
+ Few months of life has he in store
+ As he to you will tell,
+ For still, the more he works, the more
+ Do his weak ankles swell. [14] 60
+ My gentle Reader, I perceive
+ How patiently you've waited,
+ And now I fear [15] that you expect
+ Some tale will be related.
+
+ O Reader! had you in your mind 65
+ Such stores as silent thought can bring,[B]
+ O gentle Reader! you would find
+ A tale in every thing.
+ What more I have to say is short,
+ And you must [16] kindly take it: 70
+ It is no tale; but, should you think, [17]
+ Perhaps a tale you'll make it.
+
+ One summer-day I chanced to see
+ This old Man doing all he could
+ To unearth the root [18] of an old tree, 75
+ A stump of rotten wood.
+ The mattock tottered in his hand;
+ So vain was his endeavour,
+ That at the root of the old tree
+ He might have worked for ever. 80
+
+ "You're overtasked, good Simon Lee,
+ Give me your tool," to him I said;
+ And at the word right gladly he
+ Received my proffered aid.
+ I struck, and with a single blow 85
+ The tangled root I severed,
+ At which the poor old Man so long
+ And vainly had endeavoured.
+
+ The tears into his eyes were brought,
+ And thanks and praises seemed to run 90
+ So fast out of his heart, I thought
+ They never would have done.
+ --I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds
+ With coldness still returning;
+ Alas! the gratitude of men 95
+ Hath oftener [19] left me mourning.[C]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827.
+
+ I've heard ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2: In editions 1798 to 1815 the following is inserted:
+
+ Of years he has upon his back,
+ No doubt, a burthen weighty;
+ He says he is three score and ten,
+ But others say he's eighty.
+
+ A long blue livery-coat has he,
+ That's fair behind, and fair before;
+ Yet, meet him where you will, you see
+ At once that he is poor.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... five and twenty ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1845.
+
+ And, though he has but one eye left,
+ His cheek is like a cherry. 1798.
+
+ And still the centre of his cheek
+ Is blooming as a cherry. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1827.
+
+ No man like him the horn could sound,
+ And no man was so full of glee;
+ To say the least, four counties round
+ Had heard of Simon Lee;
+ His master's dead, and no one now
+ Dwells in the hall of Ivor;
+ Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;
+ He is the sole survivor. 1798.
+
+ Worn out by hunting feats--bereft
+ By time of friends and kindred, see!
+ Old Simon to the world is left
+ In liveried poverty.
+ His Master's dead, ... 1827.
+
+The fourth stanza of the final edition being second in 1827, and the
+second stanza being third in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... race ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+ Of strength, of friends, and kindred, see.
+
+In MS. letter to Allan Cunningham, Nov. 1828.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1832.
+
+ His hunting feats have him bereft
+ Of his right eye, as you may see:
+ And then, what limbs those feats have left
+ To poor old Simon Lee!
+ He has no son, he has no child,
+ His wife, an aged woman,
+ Lives with him, near the waterfall,
+ Upon the village common. 1798.
+
+ His hunting feats have him bereft
+ Of his right eye, as you may see,
+ And Simon to the world is left,
+ In liveried poverty.
+ When he was young he little knew
+ Of husbandry or tillage;
+ And now is forced to work, though weak,
+ --The weakest in the village. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1798.
+
+ But ... 1820.
+
+The text of 1832 reverts to that of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1827.
+
+ His little body's half awry,
+ His ancles they are swoln and thick;
+ His legs are thin and dry.
+ When he was young he little knew
+ Of husbandry or tillage;
+ And now he's forced to work, though weak,
+ --The weakest in the village. 1798.
+
+ His dwindled body's half awry, 1800.
+
+ His ancles, too, are swoln and thick; 1815.
+
+ And now is forced to work, 1815.
+
+ His dwindled body half awry,
+ Rests upon ancles swoln and thick;
+ His legs are thin and dry.
+ He has no son, he has no child,
+ His Wife, an aged woman,
+ Lives with him, near the waterfall,
+ Upon the village Common. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1845.
+
+ But what avails the land to them,
+ Which they can till no longer? 1798.
+
+ "But what," saith he, "avails the land,
+ Which I can till no longer?" 1827.
+
+ But what avails it now, the land
+ Which he can till no longer? 1832.
+
+ 'Tis his, but what avails the land
+ Which he can till no longer? 1837.
+
+ The time, alas! is come when he
+ Can till the land no longer. 1840.
+
+ The time is also come when he
+ Can till the land no longer. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1827.
+
+ Old Ruth works out of doors with him,
+ And does what Simon cannot do;
+ For she, not over stout of limb, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1840.
+
+ Alas! 'tis very little, all
+ Which they can ... 1798.
+
+ That they can ... 1837.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1815.
+
+ His poor old ancles swell. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1820.
+
+ And I'm afraid ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1820.
+
+ I hope you'll ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1798.
+
+ ... _think_,
+
+In the editions 1832 to 1843.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1815.
+
+ About the root ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1820.
+
+ Has oftner ... 1798.
+
+ Has oftener ... 1805.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: Note that the phrase: 'But oh the heavy change,' occurs in
+Milton's 'Lycidas'. (Professor Dowden.) See 'Lycidas', l. 37.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Compare Shakspeare's Sonnet, No. xxx.:
+
+ When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
+ I summon up remembrance of things past;
+
+and in Spenser's 'An epitaph upon the Right Honourable Sir Phillip
+Sidney, Knight; Lord governor of Flushing.'
+
+ Farewell, self-pleasing thoughts, which quietness brings forth.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: See Appendix VI. to this volume.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [Actually composed while I was sitting by the side of the brook that
+ runs down from the 'Comb', 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. When, with dear friends, I revisited this spot,
+ after an interval of more than forty years, [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.]
+
+
+These 'Lines' were included among the "Poems of Sentiment
+and Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ I heard a thousand blended notes,
+ While in a grove I sate reclined,
+ In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
+ Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
+
+ To her fair works did Nature link 5
+ The human soul that through me ran;
+ And much it grieved my heart to think
+ What man has made of man.
+
+ Through primrose tufts, in that green [1] bower,
+ The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; 10
+ And 'tis my faith that every flower
+ Enjoys the air it breathes. [B]
+
+ The birds around me hopped and played,
+ Their thoughts I cannot measure:--
+ But the least motion which they made, 15
+ It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
+
+ The budding twigs spread out their fan,
+ To catch the breezy air;
+ And I must think, do all I can,
+ That there was pleasure there. 20
+
+ If this belief from heaven be sent,
+ If such be Nature's holy plan, [2]
+ Have I not reason to lament
+ What man has made of man?
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+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:
+
+ The roaring dell, o'er-wooded, narrow, deep,
+ And only speckled by the midday sun;
+ Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock
+ Flings arching like a bridge;--that branchless ash,
+ Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves
+ Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still,
+ Fanned by the waterfall!
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... sweet 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1837.
+
+ If I these thoughts may not prevent,
+ If such be of my creed the plan, 1798.
+
+ If this belief from Heaven is sent,
+ If such be nature's holy plan, 1820.
+
+ From Heaven if this belief be sent, 1827.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: See the Fenwick note to "A whirl-blast from behind the
+hill," p. 238.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: See Appendix VII.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+TO MY SISTER
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+In the editions 1798 to 1815 the title of this poem was, 'Lines written
+at a small distance from my House, and sent by my little Boy to the
+person to whom they are addressed'. From 1820 to 1843 the title was, 'To
+my Sister; written at a small distance from my House, and sent by my
+little Boy'. In 1845 and afterwards, it was simply 'To my Sister'. The
+poem was placed by Wordsworth among those of "Sentiment and
+Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ It is the first mild day of March:
+ Each minute sweeter than before
+ The redbreast sings from the tall larch
+ That stands beside our door.
+
+ There is a blessing in the air, 5
+ Which seems a sense of joy to yield
+ To the bare trees, and mountains bare,
+ And grass in the green field.
+
+ My sister! ('tis a wish of mine)
+ Now that our morning meal is done, 10
+ Make haste, your morning task resign;
+ Come forth and feel the sun.
+
+ Edward will come with you;--and, pray,
+ Put on with speed your woodland dress;
+ And bring no book: for this one day 15
+ We'll give to idleness.
+
+ No joyless forms shall regulate
+ Our living calendar:
+ We from to-day, my Friend, will date
+ The opening of the year. 20
+
+ Love, now a [1] universal birth,
+ From heart to heart is stealing,
+ From earth to man, from man to earth:
+ --It is the hour of feeling.
+
+ One moment now may give us more 25
+ Than years of toiling reason: [2]
+ Our minds shall drink at every pore
+ The spirit of the season.
+
+ Some silent laws our hearts will make, [3]
+ Which they shall long obey: 30
+ We for the year to come may take
+ Our temper from to-day.
+
+ And from the blessed power that rolls
+ About, below, above,
+ We'll frame the measure of our souls: 35
+ They shall be tuned to love.
+
+ Then come, my Sister! come, I pray,
+ With speed put on your woodland dress;
+ And bring no book: for this one day
+ We'll give to idleness. 40
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+The larch is now gone; but the place where it stood can easily be
+identified.--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... an ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1837.
+
+ Than fifty years of reason; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... may. 1798.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [This 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]--I.F.]
+
+Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ "Why, William, on that old grey stone,
+ Thus for the length of half a day,
+ Why, William, sit you thus alone,
+ And dream your time away?
+
+ "Where are your books?--that light bequeathed 5
+ To Beings else forlorn and blind!
+ Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed
+ From dead men to their kind.
+
+ "You look round on your Mother Earth,
+ As if she for no purpose bore you; 10
+ As if you were her first-born birth,
+ And none had lived before you!"
+
+ One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake,
+ When life was sweet, I knew not why,
+ To me my good friend Matthew spake, 15
+ And thus I made reply.
+
+ "The eye--it cannot choose but see;
+ We cannot bid the ear be still;
+ Our bodies feel, where'er they be,
+ Against or with our will. 20
+
+ "Nor less I deem that there are Powers
+ Which of themselves our minds impress;
+ That we can feed this mind of ours
+ In a wise passiveness.
+
+ "Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum 25
+ Of things for ever speaking,
+ That nothing of itself will come,
+ But we must still be seeking?
+
+ "--Then ask not wherefore, here, alone,
+ Conversing as I may, 30
+ I sit upon this old grey stone,
+ And dream my time away."
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: In his "Advertisement" to the first edition of "Lyrical
+Ballads" (1798) Wordsworth writes,
+
+ "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."
+
+Was the friend Sir James Mackintosh? or was it--a much more probable
+supposition--his friend, S. T. Coleridge?--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TABLES TURNED
+
+AN EVENING SCENE ON THE SAME SUBJECT
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798
+
+
+Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
+ Or surely you'll grow double:
+ Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
+ Why all this toil and trouble? [1]
+
+ The sun, above the mountain's head, 5
+ A freshening lustre mellow
+ Through all the long green fields has spread,
+ His first sweet evening yellow.
+
+ Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
+ Come, hear the woodland linnet, 10
+ How sweet his music! on my life,
+ There's more of wisdom in it.
+
+ And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
+ He, too, is [2] no mean preacher:
+ Come forth into the light of things, 15
+ Let Nature be your Teacher.
+
+ She has a world of ready wealth,
+ Our minds and hearts to bless--
+ Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
+ Truth breathed by cheerfulness. 20
+
+ One impulse from a vernal wood
+ May teach you more of man,
+ Of moral evil and of good,
+ Than all the sages can. [A]
+
+ Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; 25
+ Our meddling intellect
+ Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:--
+ We murder to dissect.
+
+ Enough of Science and of Art;
+ Close up those [3] barren leaves; 30
+ Come forth, and bring with you a heart
+ That watches and receives.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1820.
+
+ Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks,
+ Why all this toil and trouble?
+ Up! up! my friend, and quit your books,
+ Or surely you'll grow double. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ And he is ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... these ... 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: A mediæval anticipation of this may be quoted in a
+footnote.
+
+ "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."
+
+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:
+
+ "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."
+
+See the appendix to Mabillon's edition of 'Bernardi Opera', ii. 1072,
+'S. Bernardi Vita, et Res Gesta, auctore Guilielmo'.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE COMPLAINT OF A FORSAKEN INDIAN WOMAN
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+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.
+
+ [At Alfoxden, in 1798, where I read Hearne's 'Journey' with deep
+ interest. It was composed for the volume of "Lyrical Ballads."--I. F.]
+
+Classed among the "Poems founded on the Affections."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+I Before I see another day,
+ Oh let my body die away!
+ In sleep I heard the northern gleams;
+ The stars, they were among my dreams; [1]
+ In rustling conflict through the skies, [2] 5
+ I heard, I saw the flashes drive, [3]
+ And yet they are upon my eyes,
+ And yet I am alive;
+ Before I see another day,
+ Oh let my body die away! 10
+
+
+II My fire is dead: it knew no pain;
+ Yet is it dead, and I remain:
+ All stiff with ice the ashes lie;
+ And they are dead, and I will die.
+ When I was well, I wished to live, 15
+ For clothes, for warmth, for food, and fire
+ But they to me no joy can give,
+ No pleasure now, and no desire.
+ Then here contented will I lie!
+ Alone, I cannot fear to die. 20
+
+
+III Alas! ye [4] might have dragged me on
+ Another day, a single one!
+ Too soon I yielded to despair;
+ Why did ye listen to my prayer? [5]
+ When ye [6] were gone my limbs were stronger; 25
+ And oh, how grievously I rue,
+ That, afterwards, a little longer,
+ My friends, I did not follow you!
+ For strong and without pain I lay,
+ Dear friends, when ye [7] were gone away. 30
+
+
+IV My Child! they gave thee to another,
+ A woman who was not thy mother.
+ When from my arms my Babe they took,
+ On me how strangely did he look!
+ Through his whole body something ran, 35
+ A most strange working [8] did I see;
+ --As if he strove to be a man,
+ That he might pull the sledge for me:
+ And then he stretched his arms, how wild!
+ Oh mercy! like a helpless child. [9] 40
+
+
+V My little joy! my little pride!
+ In two days more I must have died.
+ Then do not weep and grieve for me;
+ I feel I must have died with thee.
+ O wind, that o'er my head art flying 45
+ The way my friends their course did bend,
+ I should not feel the pain of dying,
+ Could I with thee a message send;
+ Too soon, my friends, ye [10] went away;
+ For I had many things to say. 50
+
+VI I'll follow you across the snow;
+ Ye [11] travel heavily and slow;
+ In spite of all my weary pain
+ I'll look upon your tents again.
+ --My fire is dead, and snowy white 55
+ The water which beside it stood:
+ The wolf has come to me to-night,
+ And he has stolen away my food.
+ For ever left alone am I;
+ Then wherefore should I fear to die? 60
+
+VII [12] Young as I am, my course is run, [13]
+ I shall not see another sun;
+ I cannot lift my limbs to know
+ If they have any life or no.
+ My poor forsaken Child, if I 65
+ For once could have thee close to me,
+ With happy heart I then would die,
+ And my last thought would happy be; [14]
+ But thou, dear Babe, art far away,
+ Nor shall I see another day. [15] 70
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1798.
+
+ The stars were mingled with my dreams; 1815.
+
+The text of 1836 returns to that of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1820.
+
+ In sleep did I behold the skies, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1827.
+
+ I saw the crackling flashes drive; 1798.
+
+ I heard, and saw the flashes drive; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... you ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1815.
+
+ Too soon despair o'er me prevailed;
+ Too soon my heartless spirit failed; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... you ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1845.
+
+ My friends, when you ... 1798.
+
+ ... when ye ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1815.
+
+ A most strange something .... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... a little child. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... you ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1815.
+
+ You ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 12: This stanza was omitted in the editions 1815 to 1832, but
+restored in 1836.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1836.
+
+ My journey will be shortly run, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... I then would die,
+ And my last thoughts ... 1798.
+
+ ... I then should die, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1836.
+
+ I feel my body die away,
+ I shall not see another day. 1798.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST OF THE FLOCK
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+Included among the "Poems founded on the Affections."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+I In distant countries have I been, [1]
+ And yet I have not often seen
+ A healthy man, a man full grown,
+ Weep in the public roads, alone.
+ But such a one, on English ground, 5
+ And in the broad highway, I met;
+ Along the broad highway he came,
+ His cheeks with tears were wet:
+ Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;
+ And in his arms a Lamb he had. 10
+
+
+II He saw me, and he turned aside,
+ As if he wished himself to hide:
+ And with his coat did then essay [2]
+ To wipe those briny tears away.
+ I followed him, and said, "My friend, 15
+ What ails you? wherefore weep you so?"
+ --"Shame on me, Sir! this lusty Lamb,
+ He makes my tears to flow.
+ To-day I fetched him from the rock:
+ He is the last of all my flock. 20
+
+
+III "When I was young, a single man,
+ And after youthful follies ran,
+ Though little given to care and thought,
+ Yet, so it was, an ewe [3] I bought;
+ And other sheep from her I raised, 25
+ As healthy sheep as you might see;
+ And then I married, and was rich
+ As I could wish to be;
+ Of sheep I numbered a full score,
+ And every year increased my store. 30
+
+
+IV "Year after year my stock it grew;
+ And from this one, this single ewe,
+ Full fifty comely sheep I raised,
+ As fine [4] a flock as ever grazed!
+ Upon the Quantock hills they fed; [5] 35
+ They throve, and we at home did thrive:
+ --This lusty Lamb of all my store
+ Is all that is alive;
+ And now I care not if we die,
+ And perish all of poverty. 40
+
+
+V "Six [6] Children, Sir! had I to feed;
+ Hard labour in a time of need!
+ My pride was tamed, and in our grief
+ I of the Parish asked relief.
+ They said, I was a wealthy man; 45
+ My sheep upon the uplands [7] fed,
+ And it was fit that thence I took
+ Whereof to buy us bread.
+ 'Do this: how can we give to you,'
+ They cried, 'what to the poor is due?' 50
+
+
+VI "I sold a sheep, as they had said,
+ And bought my little children bread,
+ And they were healthy with their food;
+ For me--it never did me good.
+ A woeful time it was for me, 55
+ To see the end of all my gains,
+ The pretty flock which I had reared
+ With all my care and pains,
+ To see it melt like snow away--
+ For me it was a woeful day. 60
+
+
+VII "Another still! and still another!
+ A little lamb, and then its mother!
+ It was a vein that never stopped--
+ Like blood-drops from my heart they dropped.
+ 'Till thirty were not left alive 65
+ They dwindled, dwindled, one by one;
+ And I may say, that many a time
+ I wished they all were gone--
+ Reckless of what might come at last
+ Were but the bitter struggle past. [8] 70
+
+
+VIII "To wicked deeds I was inclined,
+ And wicked fancies crossed my mind;
+ And every man I chanced to see,
+ I thought he knew some ill of me:
+ No peace, no comfort could I find, 75
+ No ease, within doors or without;
+ And, crazily and wearily
+ I went my work about;
+ And oft was moved to flee from home,
+ And hide my head where wild beasts roam.[9] 80
+
+
+IX "Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me,
+ As dear as my own children be;
+ For daily with my growing store
+ I loved my children more and more.
+ Alas! it was an evil time; 85
+ God cursed me in my sore distress;
+ I prayed, yet every day I thought
+ I loved my children less;
+ And every week, and every day,
+ My flock it seemed to melt away. 90
+
+
+X "They dwindled, Sir, sad sight to see!
+ From ten to five, from five to three,
+ A lamb, a wether, and a ewe;-.
+ And then at last from three to two;
+ And, of my fifty, yesterday 95
+ I had but only one:
+ And here it lies upon my arm,
+ Alas! and I have none;--
+ To-day I fetched it from the rock;
+ It is the last of all my flock." 100
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... I have been, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ Then with his coat he made essay 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1832.
+
+ ... a ewe ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1836.
+
+ As sweet ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1836.
+
+ Upon the mountain did they feed; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1800.
+
+ Ten ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... upon the mountain ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1827.
+
+ They dwindled one by one away;
+ For me it was a woeful day. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1836.
+
+ Oft-times I thought to run away;
+ For me it was a woeful day. 1798.
+
+ Bent oftentimes to flee from home,
+ And hide my head where wild beasts roam. 1827.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE IDIOT BOY
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ 'Tis eight o'clock,--a clear March night,
+ The moon is up,--the sky is blue,
+ The owlet, in the moonlight air,
+ Shouts from [1] nobody knows where;
+ He lengthens out his lonely shout, 5
+ Halloo! halloo! a long halloo!
+
+ --Why bustle thus about your door,
+ What means this bustle, Betty Foy?
+ Why are you in this mighty fret?
+ And why on horseback have you set 10
+ Him whom you love, your Idiot Boy?
+ [2]
+
+ Scarcely a soul is out of bed: [3]
+ Good Betty, put him down again;
+ His lips with joy they burr at you;
+ But, Betty! what has he to do 15
+ With stirrup, saddle, or with rein?
+ [4]
+
+ But Betty's bent on her intent;
+ For her good neighbour, Susan Gale,
+ Old Susan, she who dwells alone,
+ Is sick, and makes a piteous moan, 20
+ As if her very life would fail.
+
+ There's not a house within a mile,
+ No hand to help them in distress;
+ Old Susan lies a-bed in pain,
+ And sorely puzzled are the twain, 25
+ For what she ails they cannot guess.
+
+ And Betty's husband's at the wood,
+ Where by the week he doth abide,
+ A woodman in the distant vale;
+ There's none to help poor Susan Gale; 30
+ What must be done? what will betide?
+
+ And Betty from the lane has fetched
+ Her Pony, that is mild and good;
+ Whether he be in joy or pain,
+ Feeding at will along the lane, 35
+ Or bringing faggots from the wood.
+
+ And he is all in travelling trim,--
+ And, by the moonlight, Betty Foy
+ Has on the well-girt saddle set [5]
+ (The like was never heard of yet) 40
+ Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy.
+
+ And he must post without delay
+ Across the bridge and through the dale, [6]
+ And by the church, and o'er the down,
+ To bring a Doctor from the town, 45
+ Or she will die, old Susan Gale.
+
+ There is no need of boot or spur,
+ There is no need of whip or wand;
+ For Johnny has his holly-bough,
+ And with a _hurly-burly_ now 50
+ He shakes the green bough in his hand.
+
+ And Betty o'er and o'er has told
+ The Boy, who is her best delight,
+ Both what to follow, what to shun,
+ What do, and what to leave undone, 55
+ How turn to left, and how to right.
+
+ And Betty's most especial charge,
+ Was, "Johnny! Johnny! mind that you
+ Come home again, nor stop at all,--
+ Come home again, whate'er befal, 60
+ My Johnny, do, I pray you do."
+
+ To this did Johnny answer make,
+ Both with his head and with his hand,
+ And proudly shook the bridle too;
+ And then! his words were not a few, 65
+ Which Betty well could understand.
+
+ And now that Johnny is just going,
+ Though Betty's in a mighty flurry,
+ She gently pats the Pony's side,
+ On which her Idiot Boy must ride, 70
+ And seems no longer in a hurry.
+
+ But when the Pony moved his legs,
+ Oh! then for the poor Idiot Boy!
+ For joy he cannot hold the bridle,
+ For joy his head and heels are idle, 75
+ He's idle all for very joy.
+
+ And while the Pony moves his legs,
+ In Johnny's left hand you may see
+ The green bough [7] motionless and dead:
+ The Moon that shines above his head 80
+ Is not more still and mute than he.
+
+ His heart it was so full of glee,
+ That till full fifty yards were gone,
+ He quite forgot his holly whip,
+ And all his skill in horsemanship: 85
+ Oh! happy, happy, happy John.
+
+ And while the Mother, at the door,
+ Stands fixed, her face with joy o'erflows [8]
+ Proud of herself, and proud of him,
+ She sees him in his travelling trim, 90
+ How quietly her Johnny goes.
+
+ The silence of her Idiot Boy,
+ What hopes it sends to Betty's heart!
+ He's at the guide-post--he turns right;
+ She watches till he's out of sight, 95
+ And Betty will not then depart.
+
+ Burr, burr--now Johnny's lips they burr.
+ As loud as any mill, or near it;
+ Meek as a lamb the Pony moves,
+ And Johnny makes the noise he loves, 100
+ And Betty listens, glad to hear it.
+
+ Away she hies to Susan Gale:
+ Her Messenger's in merry tune; [9]
+ The owlets hoot, the owlets curr,
+ And Johnny's lips they burr, burr, burr, 105
+ As [10] on he goes beneath the moon.
+
+ His steed and he right well agree;
+ For of this Pony there's a rumour,
+ That, should he lose his eyes and ears,
+ And should he live a thousand years, 110
+ He never will be out of humour.
+
+ But then he is a horse that thinks!
+ And when he thinks, his pace is slack;
+ Now, though he knows poor Johnny well,
+ Yet, for his life, he cannot tell 115
+ What he has got upon his back.
+
+ So through the moonlight lanes they go,
+ And far into the moonlight dale,
+ And by the church, and o'er the down,
+ To bring a Doctor from the town, 120
+ To comfort poor old Susan Gale.
+
+ And Betty, now at Susan's side,
+ Is in the middle of her story,
+ What speedy help her Boy will bring, [11]
+ With many a most diverting thing, 125
+ Of Johnny's wit, and Johnny's glory.
+
+ And Betty, still at Susan's side,
+ By this time is not quite so flurried: [12]
+ Demure with porringer and plate
+ She sits, as if in Susan's fate 130
+ Her life and soul were buried.
+
+ But Betty, poor good woman! she,
+ You plainly in her face may read it,
+ Could lend out of that moment's store
+ Five years of happiness or more 135
+ To any that might need it.
+
+ But yet I guess that now and then
+ With Betty all was not so well;
+ And to the road she turns her ears,
+ And thence full many a sound she hears, 140
+ Which she to Susan will not tell.
+
+ Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;
+ "As sure as there's a moon in heaven,"
+ Cries Betty, "he'll be back again;
+ They'll both be here--'tis almost ten-- 145
+ Both will be [13] here before eleven."
+
+ Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;
+ The clock gives warning for eleven;
+ 'Tis on the stroke--"He must be near,"
+ Quoth Betty, "and will soon be here, [14] 150
+ As sure as there's a moon in heaven."
+
+ The clock is on the stroke of twelve,
+ And Johnny is not yet in sight:
+ --The Moon's in heaven, as Betty sees,
+ But Betty is not quite at ease; 155
+ And Susan has a dreadful night.
+
+ And Betty, half an hour ago,
+ On Johnny vile reflections cast:
+ "A little idle sauntering Thing!"
+ With other names, an endless string; 160
+ But now that time is gone and past.
+
+ And Betty's drooping at the heart,
+ That happy time all past and gone,
+ "How can it be he is so late?
+ The Doctor, he has made him wait; 165
+ Susan! they'll both be here anon."
+
+ And Susan's growing worse and worse,
+ And Betty's in a sad _quandary_;
+ And then there's nobody to say
+ If she must go, or she must stay! 170
+ --She's in a sad _quandary_.
+
+ The clock is on the stroke of one;
+ But neither Doctor nor his Guide
+ Appears [15] along the moonlight road;
+ There's neither horse nor man abroad, 175
+ And Betty's still at Susan's side.
+
+ And Susan now begins to fear [16]
+ Of sad mischances not a few,
+ That Johnny may perhaps be drowned;
+ Or lost, perhaps, and never found; 180
+ Which they must both for ever rue.
+
+ She prefaced half a hint of this
+ With, "God forbid it should be true!"
+ At the first word that Susan said
+ Cried Betty, rising from the bed, 185
+ "Susan, I'd gladly stay with you.
+
+ "I must be gone, I must away:
+ Consider, Johnny's but half-wise;
+ Susan, we must take care of him,
+ If he is hurt in life or limb"-- 190
+ "Oh God forbid!" poor Susan cries.
+
+ "What can I do?" says Betty, going,
+ "What can I do to ease your pain?
+ Good Susan tell me, and I'll stay;
+ I fear you're in a dreadful way, 195
+ But I shall soon be back again."
+
+ "Nay, Betty, [17] go! good Betty, go!
+ There's nothing that can ease my pain."
+ Then off she hies; but with a prayer
+ That God poor Susan's life would spare, 200
+ Till she comes back again.
+
+ So, through the moonlight lane she goes,
+ And far into the moonlight dale;
+ And how she ran, and how she walked,
+ And all that to herself she talked, 205
+ Would surely be a tedious tale.
+
+ In high and low, above, below,
+ In great and small, in round and square,
+ In tree and tower was Johnny seen,
+ In bush and brake, in black and green; 210
+ 'Twas Johnny, Johnny, every where.
+
+ And while she crossed the bridge, there came
+ A thought with which her heart is sore--[18]
+ Johnny perhaps his horse forsook,
+ To hunt the moon within the brook, [19] 215
+ And never will be heard of more.
+
+ Now is she high [20] upon the down,
+ Alone amid a prospect wide;
+ There's neither Johnny nor his Horse
+ Among the fern or in the gorse; 220
+ There's neither Doctor nor his Guide.
+
+ "Oh saints! what is become of him?
+ Perhaps he's climbed into an oak,
+ Where he will stay till he is dead;
+ Or, sadly he has been misled, 225
+ And joined the wandering gipsy-folk.
+
+ "Or him that wicked Pony's carried
+ To the dark cave, the goblin's hall;
+ Or in the castle he's pursuing
+ Among the ghosts his own undoing; 230
+ Or playing with the waterfall."
+
+ At poor old Susan then she railed,
+ While to the town she posts away;
+ "If Susan had not been so ill,
+ Alas! I should have had him still, 235
+ My Johnny, till my dying day."
+
+ Poor Betty, in this sad distemper,
+ The Doctor's self could [21] hardly spare:
+ Unworthy things she talked, and wild;
+ Even he, of cattle the most mild, 240
+ The Pony had his share.
+
+ But now she's fairly in the town, [22]
+ And to the Doctor's door she hies;
+ 'Tis silence all on every side;
+ The town so long, the town so wide, 245
+ Is silent as the skies.
+
+ And now she's at the Doctor's door,
+ She lifts the knocker, rap, rap, rap;
+ The Doctor at the casement shows
+ His glimmering eyes that peep and doze! 250
+ And one hand rubs his old night-cap.
+
+ "Oh Doctor! Doctor! where's my Johnny?"
+ "I'm here, what is't you want with me?"
+ "Oh Sir! you know I'm Betty Foy,
+ And I have lost my poor dear Boy, 255
+ You know him--him you often see;
+
+ "He's not so wise as some folks be":
+ "The devil take his wisdom!" said
+ The Doctor, looking somewhat grim,
+ "What, Woman! should I know of him?" 260
+ And, grumbling, he went back to bed!
+
+ "O woe is me! O woe is me!
+ Here will I die; here will I die;
+ I thought to find my lost one here, [23]
+ But he is neither far nor near, 265
+ Oh! what a wretched Mother I!"
+
+ She stops, she stands, she looks about;
+ Which way to turn she cannot tell.
+ Poor Betty! it would ease her pain
+ If she had heart to knock again; 270
+ --The clock strikes three--a dismal knell!
+
+ Then up along the town she hies,
+ No wonder if her senses fail;
+ This piteous news so much it shocked her,
+ She quite forgot to send the Doctor, 275
+ To comfort poor old Susan Gale.
+
+ And now she's high upon the down,
+ And she can see a mile of road:
+ "O cruel! I'm almost threescore;
+ Such night as this was ne'er before, 280
+ There's not a single soul abroad."
+
+ She listens, but she cannot hear
+ The foot of horse, the voice of man;
+ The streams with softest sound are flowing,
+ The grass you almost hear it growing, 285
+ You hear it now, if e'er you can.
+
+ The owlets through the long blue night
+ Are shouting to each other still:
+ Fond lovers! yet not quite hob nob,
+ They lengthen out the tremulous sob, 290
+ That echoes far from hill to hill.
+
+ Poor Betty now has lost all hope,
+ Her thoughts are bent on deadly sin,
+ A green-grown pond she just has past,
+ And from the brink she hurries fast, 295
+ Lest she should drown herself therein.
+
+ And now she sits her down and weeps;
+ Such tears she never shed before;
+ "Oh dear, dear Pony! my sweet joy!
+ Oh carry back my Idiot Boy! 300
+ And we will ne'er o'erload thee more."
+
+ A thought is come into her head:
+ The Pony he is mild and good,
+ And we have always used him well;
+ Perhaps he's gone along the dell, 305
+ And carried Johnny to the wood.
+
+ Then up she springs as if on wings;
+ She thinks no more of deadly sin;
+ If Betty fifty ponds should see,
+ The last of all her thoughts would be 310
+ To drown herself therein.
+
+ O Reader! now that I might tell
+ What Johnny and his Horse are doing!
+ What they've been doing all this time,
+ Oh could I put it into rhyme, 315
+ A most delightful tale pursuing!
+
+ Perhaps, and no unlikely thought!
+ He with his Pony now doth roam
+ The cliffs and peaks so high that are,
+ To lay his hands upon a star, 320
+ And in his pocket bring it home.
+
+ Perhaps he's turned himself about,
+ His face unto his horse's tail,
+ And, still and mute, in wonder lost,
+ All silent as a horseman-ghost, 325
+ He travels slowly down the vale. [24]
+
+ And now, perhaps, is hunting [25] sheep,
+ A fierce and dreadful hunter he;
+ Yon valley, now so trim [26] and green,
+ In five months' time, should he be seen, 330
+ A desert wilderness will be!
+
+ Perhaps, with head and heels on fire,
+ And like the very soul of evil,
+ He's galloping away, away,
+ And so will gallop [27] on for aye, 335
+ The bane of all that dread the devil!
+
+ I to the Muses have been bound
+ These fourteen years, by strong indentures: [A]
+ O gentle Muses! let me tell
+ But half of what to him befel; 340
+ He surely met [28] with strange adventures.
+
+ O gentle Muses! is this kind?
+ Why will ye thus my suit repel?
+ Why of your further aid bereave me?
+ And can ye thus unfriended [29] leave me; 345
+ Ye Muses! whom I love so well?
+
+ Who's yon, that, near the waterfall,
+ Which thunders down with headlong force
+ Beneath the moon, yet shining fair,
+ As careless as if nothing were, 350
+ Sits upright on a feeding horse?
+
+ Unto his horse--there feeding [30] free,
+ He seems, I think, the rein to give;
+ Of moon or stars he takes no heed;
+ Of such we in romances read: 355
+ --'Tis Johnny! Johnny! as I live.
+
+ And that's the very Pony, too!
+ Where is she, where is Betty Foy?
+ She hardly can sustain her fears;
+ The roaring waterfall she hears, 360
+ And cannot find her Idiot Boy.
+
+ Your Pony's worth his weight in gold:
+ Then calm your terrors, Betty Foy!
+ She's coming from among the trees,
+ And now all full in view she sees 365
+ Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy.
+
+ And Betty sees the Pony too:
+ Why stand you thus, good Betty Foy?
+ It is no goblin, 'tis no ghost,
+ 'Tis he whom you so long have lost, 370
+ He whom you love, your Idiot Boy.
+
+ She looks again--her arms are up--
+ She screams--she cannot move for joy;
+ She darts, as with a torrent's force,
+ She almost has o'erturned the Horse, 375
+ And fast she holds her Idiot Boy.
+
+ And Johnny burrs, and laughs aloud;
+ Whether in cunning or in joy
+ I cannot tell; but while he laughs,
+ Betty a drunken pleasure quaffs 380
+ To hear again her Idiot Boy.
+
+ And now she's at the Pony's tail,
+ And now is [31] at the Pony's head,--
+ On that side now, and now on this;
+ And, almost stifled with her bliss, 385
+ A few sad tears does Betty shed.
+
+ She kisses o'er and o'er again
+ Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy;
+ She's happy here, is happy there, [32]
+ She is uneasy every where; 390
+ Her limbs are all alive with joy.
+
+ She pats the Pony, where or when
+ She knows not, happy Betty Foy!
+ The little Pony glad may be,
+ But he is milder far than she, 395
+ You hardly can perceive his joy.
+
+ "Oh! Johnny, never mind the Doctor;
+ You've done your best, and that is all:"
+ She took the reins, when this was said,
+ And gently turned the Pony's head 400
+ From the loud waterfall.
+
+ By this the stars were almost gone,
+ The moon was setting on the hill,
+ So pale you scarcely looked at her:
+ The little birds began to stir, 405
+ Though yet their tongues were still.
+
+ The Pony, Betty, and her Boy,
+ Wind slowly through the woody dale;
+ And who is she, betimes abroad,
+ That hobbles up the steep rough road? 410
+ Who is it, but old Susan Gale?
+
+ Long time lay Susan lost in thought; [33]
+ And many dreadful fears beset her,
+ Both for her Messenger and Nurse;
+ And, as her mind grew worse and worse, 415
+ Her body--it grew better.
+
+ She turned, she tossed herself in bed,
+ On all sides doubts and terrors met her;
+ Point after point did she discuss;
+ And, while her mind was fighting thus, 420
+ Her body still grew better.
+
+ "Alas! what is become of them?
+ These fears can never be endured;
+ I'll to the wood."--The word scarce said,
+ Did Susan rise up from her bed, 425
+ As if by magic cured.
+
+ Away she goes [34] up hill and down,
+ And to the wood at length is come;
+ She spies her Friends, she shouts a greeting;
+ Oh me! it is a merry meeting 430
+ As ever was in Christendom.
+
+ The owls have hardly sung their last,
+ While our four travellers homeward wend;
+ The owls have hooted all night long,
+ And with the owls began my song, 435
+ And with the owls must end.
+
+ For while they all were travelling home,
+ Cried Betty, "Tell us, Johnny, do,
+ Where all this long night you have been,
+ What you have heard, what you have seen: 440
+ And, Johnny, mind you tell us true."
+
+ Now Johnny all night long had heard
+ The owls in tuneful concert strive;
+ No doubt too he the moon had seen;
+ For in the moonlight he had been 445
+ From eight o'clock till five.
+
+ And thus, to Betty's question, he
+ Made answer, like a traveller bold,
+ (His very words I give to you,)
+ "The cocks did crow to-whoo, to-whoo, 450
+ And the sun did shine so cold!"
+ --Thus answered Johnny in his glory,
+ And that was all his travel's story.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827.
+
+ He shouts from ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2: Inserted in the editions 1798 to 1820.
+
+ Beneath the moon that shines so bright,
+ Till she is tired, let Betty Foy
+ With girt and stirrup fiddle-faddle;
+ But wherefore set upon a saddle
+ Him whom she loves, her idiot boy?]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ There's scarce a soul that's out of bed; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4: Inserted in the editions 1798 to 1820.
+
+ The world will say 'tis very idle,
+ Bethink you of the time of night;
+ There's not a mother, no not one,
+ But when she hears what you have done,
+ Oh! Betty she'll be in a fright.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1836.
+
+ Has up upon the saddle set, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... that's in the dale, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... bough's ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1827.
+
+ And Betty's standing at the door,
+ And Betty's face with joy o'erflows, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1820.
+
+ And Johnny's in a merry tune, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1827.
+
+ And ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1836.
+
+ What comfort Johnny soon will bring, 1798.
+
+ What comfort soon her Boy will bring, 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1827.
+
+ And Betty's still at Susan's side:
+ By this time she's not quite so flurried; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1827.
+
+ They'll both be ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1827.
+
+ 'Tis on the stroke--"If Johnny's near,"
+ Quoth Betty, "he will soon be here," 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1836.
+
+ Appear ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... she begins to fear 1798.]
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1800.
+
+ Good Betty [i] ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1836.
+
+ She's past the bridge that's in the dale,
+ And now the thought torments her sore, 1798.
+
+ She's past the bridge far in the dale; 1820.
+
+ The bridge is past--far in the dale; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... that's in the brook, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1827.
+
+ And now she's high ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 21.
+
+1827.
+
+ ...would ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 22.
+
+1836.
+
+ And now she's got into the town, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... my Johnny here, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 24.
+
+1836.
+
+ All like a silent horseman-ghost,
+ He travels on along the vale. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 25.
+
+1820.
+
+ ... he's hunting . . 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 26.
+
+1820.
+
+ ...that's so trim .... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 27.
+
+1827.
+
+ ...he'll gallop .... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 28.
+
+1802.
+
+ For sure he met ..... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 29.
+
+1798.
+
+ ...unfriendly....
+
+Only in MS. and in the edition of 1805.]
+
+
+[Variant 30:
+
+1827.
+
+ ...that's feeding ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 31:
+
+1827.
+
+ And now she's ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 32:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... she's happy there, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 33:
+
+1827
+
+ Long Susan lay deep lost in thought, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 34: 1836.
+
+ ... she posts ... 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote 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 'An Evening Walk' dictated to
+Miss Fenwick (see p. 5) implies the same.--Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE ON THE VARIANT
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: This change was made by S. T. C.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD CUMBERLAND BEGGAR [A]
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1800.
+
+
+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.
+
+ [Observed, and with great benefit to my own heart, when I was a child.
+ Written at Racedown and Alfoxden in my twenty-third year. [B] 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 AMENDED 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 _forced_ 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.]
+
+Included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Old Age."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;
+ And he was seated, by the highway side,
+ On a low structure of rude masonry
+ Built at the foot of a huge hill, that they
+ Who lead their horses down the steep rough road 5
+ May thence remount at ease. The aged Man
+ Had placed his staff across the broad smooth stone
+ That overlays the pile; and, from a bag
+ All white with flour, the dole of village dames,
+ He drew his scraps and fragments, one by one; 10
+ And scanned them with a fixed and serious look
+ Of idle computation. In the sun,
+ Upon the second step of that small pile,
+ Surrounded by those wild unpeopled hills,
+ He sat, and ate [1] his food in solitude: 15
+ And ever, scattered from his palsied hand,
+ That, still attempting to prevent the waste,
+ Was baffled still, the crumbs in little showers
+ Fell on the ground; and the small mountain birds,
+ Not venturing yet to peck their destined meal, 20
+ Approached within the length of half his staff.
+
+ Him from my childhood have I known; and then
+ He was so old, he seems not older now;
+ He travels on, a solitary Man,
+ So helpless in appearance, that for him 25
+ The sauntering Horseman throws not with a slack
+ And careless hand [2] his alms upon the ground,
+ But stops,--that he may safely lodge the coin
+ Within the old Man's hat; nor quits him so,
+ But still, when he has given his horse the rein, 30
+ Watches the aged Beggar with a look [3]
+ Sidelong, and half-reverted. She who tends
+ The toll-gate, when in summer at her door
+ She turns her wheel, if on the road she sees
+ The aged beggar coming, quits her work, 35
+ And lifts the latch for him that he may pass.
+ The post-boy, when his rattling wheels o'ertake
+ The aged Beggar in the woody lane,
+ Shouts to him from behind; and, if thus warned [4]
+ The old man does not change his course, the boy 40
+ Turns with less noisy wheels to the roadside,
+ And passes gently by, without a curse
+ Upon his lips, or anger at his heart.
+
+ He travels on, a solitary Man;
+ His age has no companion. On the ground 45
+ His eyes are turned, and, as he moves along,
+ _They_ move along the ground; and, evermore,
+ Instead of common and habitual sight
+ Of fields with rural works, of hill and dale,
+ And the blue sky, one little span of earth 50
+ Is all his prospect. Thus, from day to day,
+ Bow-bent, his eyes for ever on the ground, [5]
+ He plies his weary journey; seeing still,
+ And seldom [6] knowing that he sees, some straw,
+ Some scattered leaf, or marks which, in one track, 55
+ The nails of cart or chariot-wheel have left
+ Impressed on the white road,--in the same line,
+ At distance still the same. Poor Traveller!
+ His staff trails with him; scarcely do his feet [7]
+ Disturb the summer dust; he is so still 60
+ In look and motion, that the cottage curs, [8]
+ Ere he has [9] passed the door, will turn away,
+ Weary of barking at him. Boys and girls,
+ The vacant and the busy, maids and youths,
+ And urchins newly breeched--all pass him by: 65
+ Him even the slow-paced waggon leaves behind.
+
+ But deem not this Man useless.--Statesmen! ye
+ Who are so restless in your wisdom, ye
+ Who have a broom still ready in your hands
+ To rid the world of nuisances; ye proud, 70
+ Heart-swoln, while in your pride ye contemplate
+ Your talents, power, or [10] wisdom, deem him not
+ A burthen of the earth! 'Tis nature's law
+ That none, the meanest of created things,
+ Of forms created the most vile and brute, 75
+ The dullest or most noxious, should exist
+ Divorced from good--a spirit and pulse of good,
+ A life and soul, to every mode of being
+ Inseparably linked. Then be assured
+ That least of all can aught--that ever owned 80
+ The heaven-regarding eye and front sublime [C]
+ Which man is born to--sink, howe'er depressed,
+ So low as to be scorned without a sin;
+ Without offence to God cast out of view;
+ Like the dry remnant of a garden-flower 85
+ Whose seeds are shed, or as an implement
+ Worn out and worthless. [11] While from door to door
+ This old Man creeps, [12] the villagers in him
+ Behold a record which together binds
+ Past deeds and offices of charity, 90
+ Else unremembered, and so keeps alive
+ The kindly mood in hearts which lapse of years,
+ And that half-wisdom half-experience gives,
+ Make slow to feel, and by sure steps resign
+ To selfishness and cold oblivious cares. 95
+ Among the farms and solitary huts,
+ Hamlets and thinly-scattered villages,
+ Where'er the aged Beggar takes his rounds,
+ The mild necessity of use compels
+ To acts of love; and habit does the work 100
+ Of reason; yet prepares that after-joy
+ Which reason cherishes. And thus the soul,
+ By that sweet taste of pleasure unpursued
+ Doth find herself [13] insensibly disposed
+ To virtue and true goodness. 105
+ Some there are,
+ By their good works exalted, lofty minds
+ And meditative, authors of delight
+ And happiness, which to the end of time
+ Will live, and spread, and kindle: even such minds [14] 110
+ In childhood, from this solitary Being,
+ Or from like wanderer, haply have received [15]
+ (A thing more precious far than all that books
+ Or the solicitudes of love can do!)
+ That first mild touch of sympathy and thought, 115
+ In which they found their kindred with a world
+ Where want and sorrow were. The easy man
+ Who sits at his own door,--and, like the pear
+ That [16] overhangs his head from the green wall,
+ Feeds in the sunshine; the robust and young, 120
+ The prosperous and unthinking, they who live
+ Sheltered, and flourish in a little grove
+ Of their own kindred;--all behold in him
+ A silent monitor, which on their minds
+ Must needs impress a transitory thought 125
+ Of self-congratulation, to the heart
+ Of each recalling his peculiar boons,
+ His charters and exemptions; and, perchance,
+ Though he to no one give the fortitude
+ And circumspection needful to preserve 130
+ His present blessings, and to husband up
+ The respite of the season, he, at least,
+ And 'tis no vulgar service, makes them felt.
+
+ Yet further.--Many, I believe, there are
+ Who live a life of virtuous decency, 135
+ Men who can hear the Decalogue and feel
+ No self-reproach; who of the moral law
+ Established in the land where they abide
+ Are strict observers; and not negligent
+ In acts of love to those with whom they dwell, [17] 140
+ Their kindred, and the children of their blood.
+ Praise be to such, and to their slumbers peace!
+ --But of the poor man ask, the abject poor;
+ Go, and demand of him, if there be here
+ In this cold abstinence from evil deeds, 145
+ And these inevitable charities,
+ Wherewith to satisfy the human soul?
+ No--man is dear to man; the poorest poor
+ Long for some moments in a weary life
+ When they can know and feel that they have been, 150
+ Themselves, the fathers and the dealers-out
+ Of some small blessings; have been kind to such
+ As needed kindness, for this single cause,
+ That we have all of us one human heart.
+ --Such pleasure is to one kind Being known, 155
+ My neighbour, when with punctual care, each week
+ Duly as Friday comes, though pressed herself
+ By her own wants, she from her store [18] of meal
+ Takes one unsparing handful for the scrip
+ Of this old Mendicant, and, from her door 160
+ Returning with exhilarated heart,
+ Sits by her fire, and builds her hope in heaven.
+
+ Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!
+ And while in that vast solitude to which
+ The tide of things has borne [19] him, he appears 165
+ To breathe and live but for himself alone,
+ Unblamed, uninjured, let him bear about
+ The good which the benignant law of Heaven
+ Has hung around him: and, while life is his,
+ Still let him prompt the unlettered villagers 170
+ To tender offices and pensive thoughts. [D]
+ --Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!
+ And, long as he can wander, let him breathe
+ The freshness of the valleys; let his blood
+ Struggle with frosty air and winter snows; 175
+ And let the chartered wind that sweeps the heath
+ Beat his grey locks against his withered face.
+ Reverence the hope whose vital anxiousness
+ Gives the last human interest to his heart.
+ May never HOUSE, misnamed of INDUSTRY, 180
+ Make him a captive!--for that pent-up din,
+ Those life-consuming sounds that clog the air,
+ Be his the natural silence of old age!
+ Let him be free of mountain solitudes;
+ And have around him, whether heard or not, 185
+ The pleasant melody of woodland birds.
+ Few are his pleasures: if his eyes have now
+ Been doomed so long to settle upon earth
+ That not without some effort they behold
+ The countenance of the horizontal sun, [20] 190
+ Rising or setting, let the light at least
+ Find a free entrance to their languid orbs.
+ And let him, _where_ and _when_ he will, sit down
+ Beneath the trees, or on a [21] grassy bank
+ Of highway side, and with the little birds 195
+ Share his chance-gathered meal; and, finally,
+ As in the eye of Nature he has lived,
+ So in the eye of Nature let him die! [E]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1805.
+
+... eat ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1837.
+
+ The sauntering horseman-traveller does not throw
+ With careless hand ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1827.
+
+ Towards the aged Beggar turns a look, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... and, if perchance 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... and, evermore,
+ Instead of Nature's fair variety,]
+ Her ample scope of hill and dale, of clouds
+ And the blue sky, the same short span of earth
+ Is all his prospect. When the little birds
+ Flit over him, if their quick shadows strike
+ Across his path, he does not lift his head
+ Like one whose thoughts have been unsettled. So
+ Brow-bent, his eyes for ever ... MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1827.
+
+ And never ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... his slow footsteps scarce MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... that the miller's dog
+ Is tired of barking at him. MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... have ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... and ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 11: The lines from "Then be assured" to "worthless" were added
+in the edition of 1837.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... While thus he creeps
+ From door to door, ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1832.
+
+ ... itself ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... ; minds like these, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1827.
+
+ This helpless wanderer, have perchance receiv'd, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1827.
+
+ Which ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... and not negligent,
+ Meanwhile, in any tenderness of heart
+ Or act of love ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... chest ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... led ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... if his eyes, which now
+ Have been so long familiar with the earth,
+ No more behold the horizontal sun 1800.
+
+ ... if his eyes have now
+ Been doomed so long to settle on the earth
+ That not without some effort they behold
+ The countenance of the horizontal sun, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... or by the ... 1800.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: In an early MS. the title of this poem is 'Description of a
+Beggar', and in the editions 1800 to 1820 the title was 'The Old
+Cumberland Beggar, a Description'.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Wordsworth went to Racedown in 1795, when he was
+twenty-five years of age; and was at Alfoxden in his twenty-eighth
+year.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: Compare Ovid's 'Metamorphoses' I. 84:
+
+ Os homini sublime dedit, coelumque videre
+ Jussit et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: With this poem compare Frederick William Faber's "Hymn,"
+which he called 'The Old Labourer', beginning:
+
+ What end doth he fulfil!
+ He seems without a will.
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote E: In January 1801 Charles Lamb thus wrote to Wordsworth of
+his 'Old Cumberland Beggar':
+
+ "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,"
+
+At the same time he refers to
+
+ "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."
+
+('The Letters of Charles Lamb', edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p.
+163.)--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+ANIMAL TRANQUILLITY AND DECAY
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [If I recollect right, these verses were an overflowing from 'The Old
+ Cumberland Beggar'.--I. F.]
+
+They were published in the first edition of "Lyrical Ballads" (1798),
+but 'The Old Cumberland Beggar' was not published till 1800. In an early
+MS., however, the two are incorporated.
+
+In the edition of 1798, the poem was called, 'Old Man Travelling; Animal
+Tranquillity and Decay, a Sketch'. In 1800, the title was 'Animal
+Tranquillity and Decay. A Sketch'. In 1845, it was 'Animal Tranquillity
+and Decay'.
+
+It was included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Old
+Age."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ The little hedgerow birds,
+ That peck along the road, regard him not.
+ He travels on, and in his face, his step,
+ His gait, is one expression: every limb,
+ His look and bending figure, all bespeak 5
+ A man who does not move with pain, but moves
+ With thought.--He is insensibly subdued
+ To settled quiet: he is one by whom
+ All effort seems forgotten; one to whom
+ Long patience hath [1] such mild composure given, 10
+ That patience now doth seem a thing of which
+ He hath no need. He is by nature led
+ To peace so perfect that the young behold
+ With envy, what the Old Man hardly feels. [2]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1805.
+
+ ...has... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ --I asked him whither he was bound, and what
+ The object of his journey; he replied
+ "Sir! I am going many miles to take
+ A last leave of my son, a mariner,
+ Who from a sea-fight has been brought to Falmouth,
+ And there is dying in an hospital." 1798.
+
+ ... he replied
+ That he was going many miles to take
+ A last leave of his son, a mariner,
+ Who from a sea-fight had been brought to Falmouth,
+ And there was dying [i] in an hospital. 1800 to 1805.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE ON THE VARIANT
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: The edition of 1800 has "lying," evidently a
+misprint.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX
+
+
+
+I
+
+The following is the full text of the original edition of 'Descriptive
+Sketches', first published in 1793:
+
+
+DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES
+
+IN VERSE.
+TAKEN DURING A
+PEDESTRIAN TOUR
+IN THE
+ITALIAN, GRISON, SWISS, AND SAVOYARD
+ALPS. BY
+W. WORDSWORTH, B.A.
+OF ST. JOHN'S, CAMBRIDGE.
+"LOCA PASTORUM DESERTA ATQUE OTIA DIA."
+'Lucret'.
+"CASTELLA IN TUMULIS--
+ET LONGE SALTUS LATEQUE VACANTES."
+'Virgil'.
+LONDON:
+PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD.
+1793.
+
+
+TO THE REV. ROBERT JONES, FELLOW OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
+
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+I am Dear Sir,
+
+Your most obedient very humble Servant
+
+W. WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+'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.'
+
+
+DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES [A]
+
+
+ Were there, below, a spot of holy ground,
+ By Pain and her sad family unfound,
+ Sure, Nature's GOD that spot to man had giv'n,
+ Where murmuring rivers join the song of ev'n;
+ Where falls the purple morning far and wide 5
+ In flakes of light upon the mountain-side;
+ Where summer Suns in ocean sink to rest,
+ Or moonlight Upland lifts her hoary breast;
+ Where Silence, on her night of wing, o'er-broods
+ Unfathom'd dells and undiscover'd woods; 10
+ Where rocks and groves the power of waters shakes
+ In cataracts, or sleeps in quiet lakes.
+
+ But doubly pitying Nature loves to show'r
+ Soft on his wounded heart her healing pow'r,
+ Who plods o'er hills and vales his road forlorn, 15
+ Wooing her varying charms from eve to morn.
+ No sad vacuities his heart annoy,
+ Blows not a Zephyr but it whispers joy;
+ For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale;
+ He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale; 20
+ For him sod-seats the cottage-door adorn,
+ And peeps the far-off spire, his evening bourn!
+ Dear is the forest frowning o'er his head,
+ And dear the green-sward to his velvet tread;
+ Moves there a cloud o'er mid-day's flaming eye? 25
+ Upward he looks--and calls it luxury;
+ Kind Nature's charities his steps attend,
+ In every babbling brook he finds a friend,
+ While chast'ning thoughts of sweetest use, bestow'd
+ By Wisdom, moralize his pensive road. 30
+ Host of his welcome inn, the noon-tide bow'r,
+ To his spare meal he calls the passing poor;
+ He views the Sun uprear his golden fire,
+ Or sink, with heart alive like [B] Memnon's lyre;
+ Blesses the Moon that comes with kindest ray 35
+ To light him shaken by his viewless way.
+ With bashful fear no cottage children steal
+ From him, a brother at the cottage meal,
+ His humble looks no shy restraint impart,
+ Around him plays at will the virgin heart. 40
+ While unsuspended wheels the village dance,
+ The maidens eye him with inquiring glance,
+ Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing Care
+ Or desperate Love could lead a wanderer there.
+
+ Me, lur'd by hope her sorrows to remove, 45
+ A heart, that could not much itself approve,
+ O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led,
+ [C] Her road elms rustling thin above my head,
+ Or through her truant pathway's native charms,
+ By secret villages and lonely farms, 50
+ To where the Alps, ascending white in air,
+ Toy with the Sun, and glitter from afar.
+
+ Ev'n now I sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom
+ Weeping beneath his chill of mountain gloom.
+ Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe 55
+ Tam'd "sober Reason" till she crouch'd in fear?
+ That breath'd a death-like peace these woods around
+ Broke only by th' unvaried torrent's sound,
+ Or prayer-bell by the dull cicada drown'd.
+ The cloister startles at the gleam of arms, 60
+ And Blasphemy the shuddering fane alarms;
+ Nod the cloud-piercing pines their troubl'd heads,
+ Spires, rocks, and lawns, a browner night o'erspreads.
+ Strong terror checks the female peasant's sighs,
+ And start th' astonish'd shades at female eyes. 65
+ The thundering tube the aged angler hears,
+ And swells the groaning torrent with his tears.
+ From Bruno's forest screams the frighted jay,
+ And slow th' insulted eagle wheels away.
+ The cross with hideous laughter Demons mock, 70
+ By [D] angels planted on the aëreal rock.
+ The "parting Genius" sighs with hollow breath
+ Along the mystic streams of [E] Life and Death.
+ Swelling the outcry dull, that long resounds
+ Portentous, thro' her old woods' trackless bounds, 75
+ Deepening her echoing torrents' awful peal
+ And bidding paler shades her form conceal,
+ [F] Vallombre, mid her falling fanes, deplores,
+ For ever broke, the sabbath of her bow'rs.
+
+ More pleas'd, my foot the hidden margin roves 80
+ Of Como bosom'd deep in chesnut groves.
+ No meadows thrown between, the giddy steeps
+ Tower, bare or sylvan, from the narrow deeps.
+ To towns, whose shades of no rude sound complain,
+ To ringing team unknown and grating wain, 85
+ To flat-roof'd towns, that touch the water's bound,
+ Or lurk in woody sunless glens profound,
+ Or from the bending rocks obtrusive cling,
+ And o'er the whiten'd wave their shadows fling;
+ Wild round the steeps the little [G] pathway twines, 90
+ And Silence loves it's purple roof of vines.
+ The viewless lingerer hence, at evening, sees
+ From rock-hewn steps the sail between the trees;
+ Or marks, mid opening cliffs, fair dark-ey'd maids
+ Tend the small harvest of their garden glades, 95
+ Or, led by distant warbling notes, surveys,
+ With hollow ringing ears and darkening gaze,
+ Binding the charmed soul in powerless trance,
+ Lip-dewing Song and ringlet-tossing Dance,
+ Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume 100
+ The bosom'd cabin's lyre-enliven'd gloom;
+ Or stops the solemn mountain-shades to view
+ Stretch, o'er their pictur'd mirror, broad and blue,
+ Tracking the yellow sun from steep to steep,
+ As up th' opposing hills, with tortoise foot, they creep. 105
+ Here half a village shines, in gold array'd,
+ Bright as the moon, half hides itself in shade.
+ From the dark sylvan roofs the restless spire
+ Inconstant glancing, mounts like springing fire.
+ There, all unshaded, blazing forests throw no 110
+ Rich golden verdure on the waves below.
+ Slow glides the sail along th' illumin'd shore,
+ And steals into the shade the lazy oar.
+ Soft bosoms breathe around contagious sighs,
+ And amourous music on the water dies. 115
+ Heedless how Pliny, musing here, survey'd
+ Old Roman boats and figures thro' the shade,
+ Pale Passion, overpower'd, retires and woos
+ The thicket, where th' unlisten'd stock-dove coos.
+
+ How bless'd, delicious Scene! the eye that greets 120
+ Thy open beauties, or thy lone retreats;
+ Th' unwearied sweep of wood thy cliffs that scales,
+ The never-ending waters of thy vales;
+ The cots, those dim religious groves enbow'r,
+ Or, under rocks that from the water tow'r 125
+ Insinuated, sprinkling all the shore,
+ Each with his household boat beside the door,
+ Whose flaccid sails in forms fantastic droop,
+ Bright'ning the gloom where thick the forests stoop;
+ --Thy torrents shooting from the clear-blue sky, 130
+ Thy towns, like swallows' nests that cleave on high;
+ That glimmer hoar in eve's last light, descry'd
+ Dim from the twilight water's shaggy side,
+ Whence lutes and voices down th' enchanted woods
+ Steal, and compose the oar-forgotten floods, 135
+ While Evening's solemn bird melodious weeps,
+ Heard, by star-spotted bays, beneath the steeps;
+ --Thy lake, mid smoking woods, that blue and grey
+ Gleams, streak'd or dappled, hid from morning's ray
+ Slow-travelling down the western hills, to fold 140
+ It's green-ting'd margin in a blaze of gold;
+ From thickly-glittering spires the matin-bell
+ Calling the woodman from his desert cell,
+ A summons to the sound of oars, that pass,
+ Spotting the steaming deeps, to early mass; 145
+ Slow swells the service o'er the water born,
+ While fill each pause the ringing woods of morn.
+
+ Farewel! those forms that, in thy noon-tide shade,
+ Rest, near their little plots of wheaten glade;
+ Those stedfast eyes, that beating breasts inspire 150
+ To throw the "sultry ray" of young Desire;
+ Those lips, whose tides of fragrance come, and go,
+ Accordant to the cheek's unquiet glow;
+ Those shadowy breasts in love's soft light array'd,
+ And rising, by the moon of passion sway'd. 155
+
+ --Thy fragrant gales and lute-resounding streams,
+ Breathe o'er the failing soul voluptuous dreams;
+ While Slavery, forcing the sunk mind to dwell
+ On joys that might disgrace the captive's cell,
+ Her shameless timbrel shakes along thy marge, 160
+ And winds between thine isles the vocal barge.
+
+ Yet, arts are thine that rock th' unsleeping heart,
+ And smiles to Solitude and Want impart.
+ I lov'd, mid thy most desert woods astray,
+ With pensive step to measure my slow way, [H] 165
+ By lonely, silent cottage-doors to roam,
+ The far-off peasant's day-deserted home;
+ Once did I pierce to where a cabin stood,
+ The red-breast peace had bury'd it in wood,
+ There, by the door a hoary-headed sire 170
+ Touch'd with his wither'd hand an aged lyre;
+ Beneath an old-grey oak as violets lie,
+ Stretch'd at his feet with stedfast, upward eye,
+ His children's children join'd the holy sound,
+ A hermit--with his family around. 175
+
+ Hence shall we seek where fair Locarno smiles
+ Embower'd in walnut slopes and citron isles,
+ Or charms that smile on Tusa's evening stream,
+ While mid dim towers and woods her [I] waters gleam;
+ From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire 180
+ The dull-red steeps, and darkening still, aspire,
+ To where afar rich orange lustres glow
+ Round undistinguish'd clouds, and rocks, and snow;
+ Or, led where Viamala's chasms confine
+ Th' indignant waters of the infant Rhine, 185
+ Bend o'er th' abyss?--the else impervious gloom
+ His burning eyes with fearful light illume.
+ The Grison gypsey here her tent has plac'd,
+ Sole human tenant of the piny waste;
+ Her tawny skin, dark eyes, and glossy locks, 190
+ Bend o'er the smoke that curls beneath the rocks.
+
+ --The mind condemn'd, without reprieve, to go
+ O'er life's long deserts with it's charge of woe,
+ With sad congratulation joins the train,
+ Where beasts and men together o'er the plain 195
+ Move on,--a mighty caravan of pain;
+ Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings,
+ Freshening the waste of sand with shades and springs.
+
+ --She solitary through the desert drear
+ Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear. 200
+
+ A giant moan along the forest swells
+ Protracted, and the twilight storm foretells,
+ And, ruining from the cliffs their deafening load
+ Tumbles, the wildering Thunder slips abroad;
+ On the high summits Darkness comes and goes, 205
+ Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows;
+ The torrent, travers'd by the lustre broad,
+ Starts like a horse beside the flashing road;
+ In the roof'd [J] bridge, at that despairing hour,
+ She seeks a shelter from the battering show'r. 210
+ --Fierce comes the river down; the crashing wood
+ Gives way, and half it's pines torment the flood;
+ [K] Fearful, beneath, the Water-spirits call,
+ And the bridge vibrates, tottering to its fall.
+
+ --Heavy, and dull, and cloudy is the night, 215
+ No star supplies the comfort of it's light,
+ Glimmer the dim-lit Alps, dilated, round,
+ And one sole light shifts in the vale profound;
+ While, opposite, the waning moon hangs still,
+ And red, above her melancholy hill. 220
+ By the deep quiet gloom appall'd, she sighs,
+ Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes.
+ --Breaking th' ascending roar of desert floods,
+ And insect buzz, that stuns the sultry woods,
+ She hears, upon the mountain forest's brow, 225
+ The death-dog, howling loud and long, below;
+ On viewless fingers counts the valley-clock,
+ Followed by drowsy crow of midnight cock.
+ --Bursts from the troubl'd Larch's giant boughs
+ The pie, and chattering breaks the night's repose. 230
+ Low barks the fox; by Havoc rouz'd the bear,
+ Quits, growling, the white bones that strew his lair;
+ The dry leaves stir as with the serpent's walk,
+ And, far beneath, Banditti voices talk;
+ Behind her hill the Moon, all crimson, rides, 235
+ And his red eyes the slinking Water hides;
+ Then all is hush'd; the bushes rustle near,
+ And with strange tinglings sings her fainting ear.
+ --Vex'd by the darkness, from the piny gulf
+ Ascending, nearer howls the famish'd wolf, 240
+ While thro' the stillness scatters wild dismay,
+ Her babe's small cry, that leads him to his prey.
+
+ Now, passing Urseren's open vale serene,
+ Her quiet streams, and hills of downy green,
+ Plunge with the Russ embrown'd by Terror's breath, 245
+ Where danger roofs the narrow walks of death;
+ By floods, that, thundering from their dizzy height,
+ Swell more gigantic on the stedfast sight;
+ Black drizzling craggs, that beaten by the din,
+ Vibrate, as if a voice complain'd within; 250
+ Bare steeps, where Desolation stalks, afraid,
+ Unstedfast, by a blasted yew upstay'd;
+ By [L] cells whose image, trembling as he prays,
+ Awe-struck, the kneeling peasant scarce surveys;
+ Loose-hanging rocks the Day's bless'd eye that hide, 255
+ And [M] crosses rear'd to Death on every side,
+ Which with cold kiss Devotion planted near,
+ And, bending, water'd with the human tear,
+ Soon fading "silent" from her upward eye,
+ Unmov'd with each rude form of Danger nigh, 260
+ Fix'd on the anchor left by him who saves
+ Alike in whelming snows and roaring waves.
+
+ On as we move, a softer prospect opes,
+ Calm huts, and lawns between, and sylvan slopes.
+ While mists, suspended on th' expiring gale, 265
+ Moveless o'er-hang the deep secluded vale,
+ The beams of evening, slipping soft between,
+ Light up of tranquil joy a sober scene;
+ Winding it's dark-green wood and emerald glade,
+ The still vale lengthens underneath the shade; 270
+ While in soft gloom the scattering bowers recede,
+ Green dewy lights adorn the freshen'd mead,
+ Where solitary forms illumin'd stray
+ Turning with quiet touch the valley's hay,
+ On the low [N] brown wood-huts delighted sleep 275
+ Along the brighten'd gloom reposing deep.
+ While pastoral pipes and streams the landscape lull,
+ And bells of passing mules that tinkle dull,
+ In solemn shapes before th' admiring eye
+ Dilated hang the misty pines on high, 280
+ Huge convent domes with pinnacles and tow'rs,
+ And antique castles seen tho' drizzling show'rs.
+
+ From such romantic dreams my sould awake,
+ Lo! Fear looks silent down on Uri's lake,
+ By whose unpathway'd margin still and dread 285
+ Was never heard the plodding peasant's tread.
+ Tower like a wall the naked rocks, or reach
+ Far o'er the secret water dark with beech,
+ More high, to where creation seems to end,
+ Shade above shade the desert pines ascend, 290
+ And still, below, where mid the savage scene
+ Peeps out a little speck of smilgin green,
+ There with his infants man undaunted creeps
+ And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps.
+ A garden-plot the desert air perfumes, 295
+ Mid the dark pines a little orchard blooms,
+ A zig-zag path from the domestic skiff
+ Threading the painful cragg surmounts the cliff.
+ --Before those hermit doors, that never know
+ The face of traveller passing to and fro, 300
+ No peasant leans upon his pole, to tell
+ For whom at morning toll'd the funeral bell,
+ Their watch-dog ne'er his angry bark forgoes,
+ Touch'd by the beggar's moan of human woes,
+ The grass seat beneath their casement shade 305
+ The pilgrim's wistful eye hath never stay'd.
+ --There, did the iron Genius not disdain
+ The gentle Power that haunts the myrtle plain,
+ There might the love-sick maiden sit, and chide
+ Th' insuperable rocks and severing tide, 310
+ There watch at eve her lover's sun-gilt sail
+ Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale,
+ There list at midnight till is heard no more,
+ Below, the echo of his parting oar,
+ There hang in fear, when growls the frozen stream, 315
+ To guide his dangerous tread the taper's gleam.
+
+ Mid stormy vapours ever driving by,
+ Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry,
+ Where hardly giv'n the hopeless waste to chear,
+ Deny'd the bread of life the foodful ear, 320
+ Dwindles the pear on autumn's latest spray,
+ And apple sickens pale in summer's ray,
+ Ev'n here Content has fix'd her smiling reign
+ With Independance child of high Disdain.
+ Exulting mid the winter of the skies, 325
+ Shy as the jealous chamois, Freedom flies,
+ And often grasps her sword, and often eyes,
+ Her crest a bough of Winter's bleakest pine,
+ Strange "weeds" and alpine plants her helm entwine,
+ And wildly-pausing oft she hangs aghast, 330
+ While thrills the "Spartan fife" between the blast.
+
+ 'Tis storm; and hid in mist from hour to hour
+ All day the floods a deeper murmur pour,
+ And mournful sounds, as of a Spirit lost,
+ Pipe wild along the hollow-blustering coast, 335
+ 'Till the Sun walking on his western field
+ Shakes from behind the clouds his flashing shield.
+ Triumphant on the bosom of the storm,
+ Glances the fire-clad eagle's wheeling form;
+ Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine 340
+ The wood-crown'd cliffs that o'er the lake recline;
+ Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold,
+ At once to pillars turn'd that flame with gold;
+ Behind his sail the peasant strives to shun
+ The west that burns like one dilated sun, 345
+ Where in a mighty crucible expire
+ The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire. [O]
+
+ But lo! the boatman, over-aw'd, before
+ The pictur'd fane of Tell suspends his oar;
+ Confused the Marathonian tale appears, 350
+ While burn in his full eyes the glorious tears.
+ And who but feels a power of strong controul,
+ Felt only there, oppress his labouring soul,
+ Who walks, where honour'd men of ancient days
+ Have wrought with god-like arm the deeds of praise? 355
+ Say, who, by thinking on Canadian hills,
+ Or wild Aosta lulled by Alpine rills,
+ On Zutphen's plain; or where with soften'd gaze
+ The old grey stones the plaided chief surveys,
+ Can guess the high resolve, the cherish'd pain 360
+ Of him whom passion rivets to the plain,
+ Where breath'd the gale that caught Wolfe's happiest sigh,
+ And the last sun-beam fell on Bayard's eye,
+ Where bleeding Sydney from the cup retir'd,
+ And glad Dundee in "faint huzzas" expir'd. 365
+
+ But now with other soul I stand alone
+ Sublime upon this far-surveying cone,
+ And watch from [P] pike to pike amid the sky
+ Small as a bird the chamois-chaser fly.
+ 'Tis his with fearless step at large to roam 370
+ Thro' wastes, of Spirits wing'd the solemn home,
+ [Q] Thro' vacant worlds where Nature never gave
+ A brook to murmur or a bough to wave,
+ Which unsubstantial Phantoms sacred keep;
+ Thro' worlds where Life and Sound, and Motion sleep, 375
+ Where Silence still her death-like reign extends,
+ Save when the startling cliff unfrequent rends:
+ In the deep snow the mighty ruin drown'd,
+ Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound;
+ --To mark a planet's pomp and steady light 380
+ In the least star of scarce-appearing night,
+ And neighbouring moon, that coasts the vast profound,
+ Wheel pale and silent her diminish'd round,
+ While far and wide the icy summits blaze
+ Rejoicing in the glory of her rays; 385
+ The star of noon that glitters small and bright,
+ Shorn of his beams, insufferably white,
+ And flying fleet behind his orb to view
+ Th' interminable sea of sable blue.
+ --Of cloudless suns no more ye frost-built spires 390
+ Refract in rainbow hues the restless fires!
+ Ye dewy mists the arid rocks o'er-spread
+ Whose slippery face derides his deathful tread!
+
+ --To wet the peak's impracticable sides
+ He opens of his feet the sanguine tides, 395
+ Weak and more weak the issuing current eyes
+ Lapp'd by the panting tongue of thirsty skies. [R]
+ --At once bewildering mists around him close,
+ And cold and hunger are his least of woes;
+ The Demon of the snow with angry roar 400
+ Descending, shuts for aye his prison door.
+ Craz'd by the strength of hope at morn he eyes
+ As sent from heav'n the raven of the skies,
+ Then with despair's whole weight his spirits sink,
+ No bread to feed him, and the snow his drink, 405
+ While ere his eyes can close upon the day,
+ The eagle of the Alps o'ershades his prey.
+ --Meanwhile his wife and child with cruel hope
+ All night the door at every moment ope;
+ Haply that child in fearful doubt may gaze, 410
+ Passing his father's bones in future days,
+ Start at the reliques of that very thigh,
+ On which so oft he prattled when a boy.
+
+ Hence shall we turn where, heard with fear afar,
+ Thunders thro' echoing pines the headlong Aar? 415
+ Or rather stay to taste the mild delights
+ Of pensive [S] Underwalden's pastoral heights?
+
+ --Is there who mid these awful wilds has seen
+ The native Genii walk the mountain green?
+ Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal, 420
+ Soft music from th' aëreal summit steal?
+ While o'er the desert, answering every close,
+ Rich steam of sweetest perfume comes and goes.
+ --And sure there is a secret Power that reigns
+ Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes, 425
+ Nought but the herds that pasturing upward creep,
+ Hung dim-discover'd from the dangerous steep,
+ [T] Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high
+ Suspended, mid the quiet of the sky.
+
+ How still! no irreligious sound or sight 430
+ Rouzes the soul from her severe delight.
+ An idle voice the sabbath region fills
+ Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills,
+ Broke only by the melancholy sound
+ Of drowsy bells for ever tinkling round; 435
+ Faint wail of eagle melting into blue
+ Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods steady sugh; [U]
+ The solitary heifer's deepen'd low;
+ Or rumbling heard remote of falling snow.
+ Save that, the stranger seen below, the boy 440
+ Shouts from the echoing hills with savage joy.
+
+ When warm from myrtle bays and tranquil seas,
+ Comes on, to whisper hope, the [V] vernal breeze,
+ When hums the mountain bee in May's glad ear,
+ And emerald isles to spot the heights appear, 445
+ When shouts and lowing herds the valley fill,
+ And louder torrents stun the noon-tide hill,
+ When fragrant scents beneath th' enchanted tread
+ Spring up, his little all around him spread,
+ The pastoral Swiss begins the cliffs to scale 450
+ To silence leaving the deserted vale,
+ Up the green mountain tracking Summer's feet,
+ Each twilight earlier call'd the Sun to meet,
+ With earlier smile the ray of morn to view
+ Fall on his shifting hut that gleams mid smoking dew; 455
+ Bless'd with his herds, as in the patriarch's age,
+ The summer long to feed from stage to stage;
+ O'er azure pikes serene and still, they go,
+ And hear the rattling thunder far below;
+ Or lost at eve in sudden mist the day 460
+ Attend, or dare with minute-steps their way;
+ Hang from the rocks that tremble o'er the steep,
+ And tempt the icy valley yawning deep,
+ O'er-walk the chasmy torrent's foam-lit bed,
+ Rock'd on the dizzy larch's narrow tread, 465
+ Whence Danger leans, and pointing ghastly, joys
+ To mock the mind with "desperation's toys";
+ Or steal beneath loose mountains, half deterr'd,
+ That sigh and shudder to the lowing herd.
+ --I see him, up the midway cliff he creeps 470
+ To where a scanty knot of verdure peeps,
+ Thence down the steep a pile of grass he throws
+ The fodder of his herds in winter snows.
+ Far different life to what tradition hoar
+ Transmits of days more bless'd in times of yore. [W] 475
+ Then Summer lengthen'd out his season bland,
+ And with rock-honey flow'd the happy land.
+ Continual fountains welling chear'd the waste,
+ And plants were wholesome, now of deadly taste.
+ Nor Winter yet his frozen stores had pil'd 480
+ Usurping where the fairest herbage smil'd;
+ Nor Hunger forc'd the herds from pastures bare
+ For scanty food the treacherous cliffs to dare.
+ Then the milk-thistle bad those herds demand
+ Three times a day the pail and welcome hand. 485
+ But human vices have provok'd the rod
+ Of angry Nature to avenge her God.
+ Thus does the father to his sons relate,
+ On the lone mountain top, their chang'd estate.
+ Still, Nature, ever just, to him imparts 490
+ Joys only given to uncorrupted hearts.
+ --'Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows,
+ More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose.
+ Far stretch'd beneath the many-tinted hills
+ A mighty waste of mist the valley fills, 495
+ A solemn sea! whose vales and mountains round
+ Stand motionless, to awful silence bound.
+ A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide
+ And bottomless, divides the midway tide.
+ Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear 500
+ The pines that near the coast their summits rear;
+ Of cabins, woods, and lawns a pleasant shore
+ Bounds calm and clear the chaos still and hoar;
+ Loud thro' that midway gulf ascending, sound
+ Unnumber'd streams with hollow roar profound. 505
+ Mounts thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds,
+ And talking voices, and the low of herds,
+ The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell,
+ And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell.
+ Think not, suspended from the cliff on high 510
+ He looks below with undelighted eye.
+ --No vulgar joy is his, at even tide
+ Stretch'd on the scented mountain's purple side.
+ For as the pleasures of his simple day
+ Beyond his native valley hardly stray, 515
+ Nought round it's darling precincts can he find
+ But brings some past enjoyment to his mind,
+ While Hope that ceaseless leans on Pleasure's urn
+ Binds her wild wreathes, and whispers his return.
+
+ Once Man entirely free, alone and wild, 520
+ Was bless'd as free--for he was Nature's child.
+ He, all superior but his God disdain'd,
+ Walk'd none restraining, and by none restrain'd,
+ Confess'd no law but what his reason taught,
+ Did all he wish'd, and wish'd but what he ought. 525
+ As Man in his primaeval dower array'd
+ The image of his glorious sire display'd,
+ Ev'n so, by vestal Nature guarded, here
+ The traces of primaeval Man appear.
+ The native dignity no forms debase, 530
+ The eye sublime, and surly lion-grace.
+ The slave of none, of beasts alone the lord,
+ He marches with his flute, his book, and sword,
+ Well taught by that to feel his rights, prepar'd
+ With this "the blessings he enjoys to guard." 535
+
+ And as on glorious ground he draws his breath,
+ Where Freedom oft, with Victory and Death,
+ Hath seen in grim array amid their Storms
+ Mix'd with auxiliar Rocks, three [X] hundred Forms;
+ While twice ten thousand corselets at the view 540
+ Dropp'd loud at once, Oppression shriek'd, and flew.
+ Oft as those sainted Rocks before him spread,
+ An unknown power connects him with the dead.
+ For images of other worlds are there,
+ Awful the light, and holy is the air. 545
+ Uncertain thro' his fierce uncultur'd soul
+ Like lighted tempests troubled transports roll;
+ To viewless realms his Spirit towers amain,
+ Beyond the senses and their little reign.
+
+ And oft, when pass'd that solemn vision by, 550
+ He holds with God himself communion high,
+ When the dread peal of swelling torrents fills
+ The sky-roof'd temple of th' eternal hills,
+ And savage Nature humbly joins the rite,
+ While flash her upward eyes severe delight. 555
+ Or gazing from the mountain's silent brow,
+ Bright stars of ice and azure worlds of snow,
+ Where needle peaks of granite shooting bare
+ Tremble in ever-varying tints of air,
+ Great joy by horror tam'd dilates his heart, 560
+ And the near heav'ns their own delights impart.
+ --When the Sun bids the gorgeous scene farewell,
+ Alps overlooking Alps their state upswell;
+ Huge Pikes of Darkness nam'd, of [Y] Fear and Storms
+ Lift, all serene, their still, illumin'd forms, 565
+ In sea-like reach of prospect round him spread,
+ Ting'd like an angel's smile all rosy red.
+
+ When downward to his winter hut he goes,
+ Dear and more dear the lessening circle grows,
+ That hut which from the hills his eyes employs 570
+ So oft, the central point of all his joys.
+ And as a swift by tender cares oppress'd
+ Peeps often ere she dart into her nest,
+ So to th' untrodden floor, where round him looks
+ His father helpless as the babe he rocks, 575
+ Oft he descends to nurse the brother pair,
+ Till storm and driving ice blockade him there;
+ There hears, protected by the woods behind,
+ Secure, the chiding of the baffled wind,
+ Hears Winter, calling all his Terrors round, 580
+ Rush down the living rocks with whirlwind sound.
+
+ Thro' Nature's vale his homely pleasures glide
+ Unstain'd by envy, discontent, and pride,
+ The bound of all his vanity to deck
+ With one bright bell a favourite heifer's neck; 585
+ Content upon some simple annual feast,
+ Remember'd half the year, and hop'd the rest,
+ If dairy produce, from his inner hoard,
+ Of thrice ten summers consecrate the board.
+ --Alas! in every clime a flying ray 590
+ Is all we have to chear our wintry way,
+ Condemn'd, in mists and tempests ever rife,
+ To pant slow up the endless Alp of life.
+ "Here," cried a swain, whose venerable head
+ Bloom'd with the snow-drops of Man's narrow bed, 595
+ Last night, while by his dying fire, as clos'd
+ The day, in luxury my limbs repos'd,
+ "Here Penury oft from misery's mount will guide
+ Ev'n to the summer door his icy tide,
+ And here the avalanche of Death destroy 600
+ The little cottage of domestic Joy.
+ But, ah! th' unwilling mind may more than trace
+ The general sorrows of the human race:
+ The churlish gales, that unremitting blow
+ Cold from necessity's continual snow, 605
+ To us the gentle groups of bliss deny
+ That on the noon-day bank of leisure lie.
+ Yet more; the tyrant Genius, still at strife
+ With all the tender Charities of life,
+ When close and closer they begin to strain, 610
+ No fond hand left to staunch th' unclosing vein,
+ Tearing their bleeding ties leaves Age to groan
+ On his wet bed, abandon'd and alone.
+ For ever, fast as they of strength become
+ To pay the filial debt, for food to roam, 615
+ The father, forc'd by Powers that only deign
+ That solitary Man disturb their reign,
+ From his bare nest amid the storms of heaven
+ Drives, eagle-like, his sons as he was driven,
+ His last dread pleasure! watches to the plain-- 620
+ And never, eagle-like, beholds again." [Z]
+
+ When the poor heart has all its joys resign'd,
+ Why does their sad remembrance cleave behind?
+ Lo! by the lazy Seine the exile roves,
+ Or where thick sails illume Batavia's groves; 625
+ Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell,
+ Unlocking bleeding Thought's "memorial cell";
+ At once upon his heart Despair has set
+ Her seal, the mortal tear his cheek has wet;
+ Strong poison not a form of steel can brave 630
+ Bows his young hairs with sorrow to the grave.
+ Gay lark of hope thy silent song resume!
+ Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume!
+ Soft gales and dews of life's delicious morn,
+ And thou, lost fragrance of the heart return! 635
+ [Aa] Soon flies the little joy to man allow'd,
+ And tears before him travel like a cloud.
+ For come Diseases on, and Penury's rage,
+ Labour, and Pain, and Grief, and joyless Age,
+ And Conscience dogging close his bleeding way 640
+ Cries out, and leads her Spectres to their prey,
+ 'Till Hope-deserted, long in vain his breath
+ Implores the dreadful untried sleep of Death.
+ --Mid savage rocks and seas of snow that shine
+ Between interminable tracts of pine, 645
+ Round a lone fane the human Genii mourn,
+ Where fierce the rays of woe collected burn.
+ --From viewless lamps a ghastly dimness falls,
+ And ebbs uncertain on the troubled walls,
+ Dim dreadful faces thro' the gloom appear, 650
+ Abortive Joy, and Hope that works in fear,
+ While strives a secret Power to hush the crowd,
+ Pain's wild rebellious burst proclaims her rights aloud.
+ Oh give not me that eye of hard disdain
+ That views undimm'd Einsiedlen's [Bb] wretched fane. 655
+ Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torment meet,
+ Dire clap of hands, distracted chafe of feet,
+ While loud and dull ascends the weeping cry,
+ Surely in other thoughts contempt may die.
+ If the sad grave of human ignorance bear 660
+ One flower of hope--Oh pass and leave it there.
+
+ --The tall Sun, tiptoe on an Alpine spire,
+ Flings o'er the desert blood-red streams of fire.
+ At such an hour there are who love to stray,
+ And meet the gladdening pilgrims on their way. 665
+ --Now with joy's tearful kiss each other greet,
+ Nor longer naked be your way-worn feet,
+ For ye have reach'd at last that happy shore,
+ Where the charm'd worm of pain shall gnaw no more.
+ How gayly murmur and how sweetly taste 670
+ The [Cc] fountains rear'd for you amid the waste!
+ Yes I will see you when ye first behold
+ Those turrets tipp'd by hope with morning gold,
+ And watch, while on your brows the cross ye make,
+ Round your pale eyes a wintry lustre wake. 675
+ --Without one hope her written griefs to blot,
+ Save in the land where all things are forgot,
+ My heart, alive to transports long unknown,
+ Half wishes your delusion were it's own.
+
+ Last let us turn to where Chamouny [Dd] shields, 680
+ Bosom'd in gloomy woods, her golden fields,
+ Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,
+ And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend,
+ A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns
+ Of purple lights and ever vernal plains. 685
+ Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fann'd,
+ Here all the Seasons revel hand in hand,
+ --Red stream the cottage lights; the landscape fades,
+ Erroneous wavering mid the twilight shades.
+ Alone ascends that mountain nam'd of white, [Ee] 690
+ That dallies with the Sun the summer night.
+ Six thousand years amid his lonely bounds
+ The voice of Ruin, day and night, resounds.
+ Where Horror-led his sea of ice assails,
+ Havoc and Chaos blast a thousand vales, 695
+ In waves, like two enormous serpents, wind
+ And drag their length of deluge train behind.
+ Between the pines enormous boughs descry'd
+ Serene he towers, in deepest purple dy'd;
+ Glad Day-light laughs upon his top of snow, 700
+ Glitter the stars above, and all is black below.
+
+ At such an hour I heav'd the human sigh,
+ When roar'd the sullen Arve in anger by,
+ That not for thee, delicious vale! unfold
+ Thy reddening orchards, and thy fields of gold; 705
+ That thou, the [Ff] slave of slaves, art doom'd to pine,
+ While no Italian arts their charms combine
+ To teach the skirt of thy dark cloud to shine;
+ For thy poor babes that, hurrying from the door,
+ With pale-blue hands, and eyes that fix'd implore, 710
+ Dead muttering lips, and hair of hungry white,
+ Besiege the traveller whom they half affright.
+ --Yes, were it mine, the cottage meal to share
+ Forc'd from my native mountains bleak and bare;
+ O'er [Gg] Anet's hopeless seas of marsh to stray, 715
+ Her shrill winds roaring round my lonely way;
+ To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose,
+ And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;
+ In the wide range of many a weary round,
+ Still have my pilgrim feet unfailing found, 720
+ As despot courts their blaze of gems display,
+ Ev'n by the secret cottage far away
+ The lilly of domestic joy decay;
+ While Freedom's farthest hamlets blessings share,
+ Found still beneath her smile, and only there. 725
+ The casement shade more luscious woodbine binds,
+ And to the door a neater pathway winds,
+ At early morn the careful housewife, led
+ To cull her dinner from it's garden bed,
+ Of weedless herbs a healthier prospect sees, 730
+ While hum with busier joy her happy bees;
+ In brighter rows her table wealth aspires,
+ And laugh with merrier blaze her evening fires;
+ Her infant's cheeks with fresher roses glow,
+ And wilder graces sport around their brow; 735
+ By clearer taper lit a cleanlier board
+ Receives at supper hour her tempting hoard;
+ The chamber hearth with fresher boughs is spread,
+ And whiter is the hospitable bed.
+
+ --And thou! fair favoured region! which my soul 740
+ Shall love, till Life has broke her golden bowl,
+ Till Death's cold touch her cistern-wheel assail,
+ And vain regret and vain desire shall fail;
+ Tho' now, where erst the grey-clad peasant stray'd,
+ To break the quiet of the village shade 745
+ Gleam war's [Hh] discordant habits thro' the trees,
+ And the red banner mock the sullen breeze;
+ Tho' now no more thy maids their voices suit
+ To the low-warbled breath of twilight lute,
+ And heard, the pausing village hum between, 750
+ No solemn songstress lull the fading green,
+ Scared by the fife, and rumbling drum's alarms,
+ And the short thunder, and the flash of arms;
+ While, as Night bids the startling uproar die,
+ Sole sound, the [Ii] sourd renews his mournful cry: 755
+ --Yet, hast thou found that Freedom spreads her pow'r
+ Beyond the cottage hearth, the cottage door:
+ All nature smiles; and owns beneath her eyes
+ Her fields peculiar, and peculiar skies.
+ Yes, as I roam'd where Loiret's [Jj] waters glide 760
+ Thro' rustling aspins heard from side to side,
+ When from October clouds a milder light
+ Fell, where the blue flood rippled into white,
+ Methought from every cot the watchful bird
+ Crowed with ear-piercing power 'till then unheard; 765
+ Each clacking mill, that broke the murmuring streams,
+ Rock'd the charm'd thought in more delightful dreams;
+ Chasing those long long dreams the falling leaf
+ Awoke a fainter pang of moral grief;
+ The measured echo of the distant flail 770
+ Winded in sweeter cadence down the vale;
+ A more majestic tide the [Kk] water roll'd,
+ And glowed the sun-gilt groves in richer gold:
+
+ --Tho' Liberty shall soon, indignant, raise
+ Red on his hills his beacon's comet blaze; 775
+ Bid from on high his lonely cannon sound,
+ And on ten thousand hearths his shout rebound;
+ His larum-bell from village-tow'r to tow'r
+ Swing on th' astounded ear it's dull undying roar:
+ Yet, yet rejoice, tho' Pride's perverted ire 780
+ Rouze Hell's own aid, and wrap thy hills in fire.
+ Lo! from th' innocuous flames, a lovely birth!
+ With it's own Virtues springs another earth:
+ Nature, as in her prime, her virgin reign
+ Begins, and Love and Truth compose her train; 785
+ With pulseless hand, and fix'd unwearied gaze,
+ Unbreathing Justice her still beam surveys:
+ No more, along thy vales and viny groves,
+ Whole hamlets disappearing as he moves,
+ With cheeks o'erspread by smiles of baleful glow, 790
+ On his pale horse shall fell Consumption go.
+
+ Oh give, great God, to Freedom's waves to ride
+ Sublime o'er Conquest, Avarice, and Pride,
+ To break, the vales where Death with Famine scow'rs,
+ And dark Oppression builds her thick-ribb'd tow'rs; 795
+ Where Machination her fell soul resigns,
+ Fled panting to the centre of her mines;
+ Where Persecution decks with ghastly smiles
+ Her bed, his mountains mad Ambition piles;
+ Where Discord stalks dilating, every hour, 800
+ And crouching fearful at the feet of Pow'r,
+ Like Lightnings eager for th' almighty word,
+ Look up for sign of havoc, Fire, and Sword; [Ll]
+ --Give them, beneath their breast while Gladness springs,
+ To brood the nations o'er with Nile-like wings; 805
+ And grant that every sceptred child of clay,
+ Who cries, presumptuous, "here their tides shall stay,"
+ Swept in their anger from th' affrighted shore,
+ With all his creatures sink--to rise no more.
+ To-night, my friend, within this humble cot 810
+ Be the dead load of mortal ills forgot,
+ Renewing, when the rosy summits glow
+ At morn, our various journey, sad and slow.
+
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: All the notes to this reprint of the edition of 1793 are
+Wordsworth's own, as given in that edition.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: Alluding to crosses seen on the tops of the spiry rocks of
+the Chartreuse, which have every appearance of being inaccessible.]
+
+
+[Footnote E: Names of rivers at the Chartreuse.]
+
+
+[Footnote F: Name of one of the vallies of the Chartreuse.]
+
+
+[Footnote G: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote H:
+
+ Solo, e pensoso i più deserti campi
+ Vò misurando à passi tardi, e lenti.
+'Petrarch'.]
+
+
+[Footnote I: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote J: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote K:
+
+ "Red came the river down, and loud, and oft
+ The angry Spirit of the water shriek'd."
+
+HOME'S 'Douglas'.]
+
+
+[Footnote L: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote M: Crosses commemorative of the deaths of travellers by the
+fall of snow and other accidents very common along this dreadful road.]
+
+
+[Footnote N: The houses in the more retired Swiss valleys are all built
+of wood.]
+
+
+[Footnote O: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote P: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Q: 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 'Tour in Switzerland'.]
+
+
+[Footnote R: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote S: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote T: These summer hamlets are most probably (as I have seen
+observed by a critic in the 'Gentleman's Magazine') what Virgil alludes
+to in the expression "Castella in tumulis."]
+
+
+[Footnote U: Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind
+through the trees.]
+
+
+[Footnote V: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote W: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote X: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Y: As Schreck-Horn, the pike of terror. Wetter-Horn, the pike
+of storms, etc. etc.]
+
+
+[Footnote Z: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Aa: Optima quæque dies, etc.]
+
+
+[Footnote Bb: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Cc: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Dd: This word is pronounced upon the spot Chàmouny, I have
+taken the liberty of reading it long thinking it more musical.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ee: It is only from the higher part of the valley of Chàmouny
+that Mont Blanc is visible.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ff: It is scarce necessary to observe that these lines were
+written before the emancipation of Savoy.]
+
+
+[Footnote Gg: A vast extent of marsh so called near the lake of
+Neuf-chatel.]
+
+
+[Footnote Hh: This, as may be supposed, was written before France became
+the seat of war.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ii: An insect so called, which emits a short, melancholy cry,
+heard, at the close of the summer evenings, on the banks of the Loire.]
+
+
+[Footnote Jj: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Kk: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ll:
+
+ --And, at his heels,
+ Leash'd in like hounds, should Famine, Sword, and Fire,
+ Crouch for employment.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX II
+
+The following is Wordsworth's Itinerary of the Tour, taken by him and
+his friend Jones, which gave rise to 'Descriptive Sketches'.
+
+
+July
+13. Calais.
+14. Ardres.
+17. Péronne.
+18. Village near Coucy.
+19. Soissons.
+20. Château Thierry.
+21. Sézanne.
+22. Village near Troyes.
+23. Bar-le-Duc.
+24. Chatillon-sur-Seine.
+26. Nuits.
+27. Châlons.
+28. Châlons.
+29. On the Saône.
+30. Lyons.
+31. Condrieu.
+
+August
+ 1. Moreau.
+ 2. Voreppe.
+ 3. Village near Chartreuse.
+ 4. Chartreuse.
+ 6. Aix.
+ 7. Town in Savoy.
+ 8. Town on Lake of Geneva.
+ 9. Lausanne.
+10. Villeneuve.
+11. St. Maurice in the Valais.
+12. Chamouny.
+13. Chamouny.
+14. Martigny.
+15. Village beyond Sion.
+16. Brieg.
+17. Spital on Alps.
+18. Margozza.
+19. Village beyond Lago Maggiore.
+20. Village on Lago di Como.
+21. Village beyond Gravedona.
+22. Jones at Chiavenna; W. W. at Samolaco.
+23. Sovozza.
+24. Splügen.
+25. Flems.
+26. Dissentis.
+27. Village on the Reuss.
+28. Fluelen.
+29. Lucerne.
+30. Village on the Lake of Zurich.
+31. Einsiedlen.
+
+
+September
+
+1. Glarus.
+2. Glarus.
+3. Village beyond Lake of Wallenstadt.
+4. Village on road to Appenzell.
+5. Appenzell.
+6. Keswill, on Lake of Constance.
+7. On the Rhine.
+8. On the Rhine.
+9. On road to Lucerne.
+10. Lucerne.
+11. Saxeln.
+12. Village on the Aar.
+13. Grindelwald.
+14. Lauterbrunnen.
+15. Village three leagues from Berne.
+16. Avranches.
+19. Village beyond Pierre Pertuises.
+20. Village four leagues from Basle.
+21. Basle.
+22. Town six leagues from Strasburg.
+23. Spires.
+24. Village on Rhine.
+25. Mentz. Mayence.
+27. Village on Rhine, two leagues from Coblentz.
+28. Cologne.
+29. Village three leagues from Aix-la-Chapelle.
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX III
+
+The following two variants in 'Descriptive Sketches' are from MS. notes
+written in the late Lord Coleridge's copy of the edition of 1836-7.
+
+l. 247.
+
+ Yet the world's business hither finds its way
+ At times, and unsought tales beguile the day,
+ And tender thoughts are those which Solitude
+
+
+l. 249.
+
+ Yet tender thoughts dwell there. No Solitude
+ Hath power Youth's natural feelings to exclude.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX IV
+
+'Anecdote for Fathers'
+
+See Eusebius' 'Præparatio Evangelica', vi. 5.--[Greek: kleie bi_en
+kartos te log_on pseud_egora lex_o]--which was Apollo's answer to
+certain persons who tried to force his oracle to reply.--Ed.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX V
+
+'The Thorn'
+
+William Taylor's translation of Bürger's 'Pfarrer's Tochter' appeared in
+'The Monthly Magazine' (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
+
+ With bleeding nails beside the pond,
+ And nightly pines the pool beside.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX VI
+
+'Simon Lee'
+
+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.
+
+
+ In the sweet shire of Cardigan,
+ Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall,
+ An old man dwells, a little man,
+ I've heard he once was tall.
+ Of years he has upon his back,
+ No doubt, a burthen weighty;
+ He says he is three score and ten,
+ But others say he's eighty.
+
+ A long blue livery-coat has he,
+ That's fair behind, and fair before;
+ Yet, meet him where you will, you see
+ At once that he is poor.
+ Full five and twenty years he lived
+ A running huntsman merry;
+ And, though he has but one eye left,
+ His cheek is like a cherry.
+
+ No man like him the horn could sound,
+ And no man was so full of glee;
+ To say the least, four counties round
+ Had heard of Simon Lee;
+ His master's dead, and no one now
+ Dwells in the hall of Ivor;
+ Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;
+ He is the sole survivor.
+
+ His hunting feats have him bereft
+ Of his right eye, as you may see:
+ And then, what limbs those feats have left
+ To poor old Simon Lee!
+ He has no son, he has no child,
+ His wife, an aged woman,
+ Lives with him, near the waterfall,
+ Upon the village common.
+
+ And he is lean and he is sick,
+ His little body's half awry
+ His ancles they are swoln and thick;
+ His legs are thin and dry.
+ When he was young he little knew
+ Of husbandry or tillage;
+ And now he's forced to work, though weak,
+ --The weakest in the village.
+
+ He all the country could outrun,
+ Could leave both man and horse behind;
+ And often, ere the race was done,
+ He reeled and was stone-blind.
+ And still there's something in the world
+ At which his heart rejoices;
+ For when the chiming hounds are out,
+ He dearly loves their voices!
+
+ Old Ruth works out of doors with him,
+ And does what Simon cannot do;
+ For she, not over stout of limb,
+ Is stouter of the two.
+ And though you with your utmost skill
+ From labour could not wean them,
+ Alas! 'tis very little, all
+ Which they can do between them.
+
+ Beside their moss-grown hut of clay,
+ Not twenty paces from the door,
+ A scrap of land they have, but they
+ Are poorest of the poor.
+ This scrap of land he from the heath
+ Enclosed when he was stronger;
+ But what avails the land to them,
+ Which they can till no longer?
+
+
+
+Editions Editions Edition Edition Editions
+1798 and 1800. 1802-1815. 1820. 1827. 1832-1849.
+
+ 1 1 1 a 1 a 1 a
+ 2 b 2 b 2 b
+
+ 2 2 3 4 a 3 a
+ 3 b 5 b
+
+ 3 3 4 a 3 a 6
+ 5 b 5 b
+
+ 4 6 6 6 4 a
+ 3 b
+
+ 5 4 5 a 5 a 5 a
+ 4 b 4 b 4 b
+
+ 6 5 7 8 8
+
+ 7 7 8 7 7
+
+ 8 8 9 9 9
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX VII
+
+'Lines written in Early Spring', ll. 11, 12
+
+Compare the 'Laws of Manu', i. 49:
+
+ "Vegetables, as well as animals, have internal consciousness, and are
+ sensible of pleasure and pain."
+
+This I have received from a correspondent, but I have never seen the
+English version.--Ed.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX VIII
+
+'An Evening Walk'
+
+
+(1) l. 219,
+
+ "His neck, a varying arch, between his towering wings."
+
+Compare 'Paradise Lost', book vii. l. 438.
+
+
+(2) l. 286, in the footnote reading of 1793, the line occurs
+
+ "Or clock, that blind against the wanderer borne."
+
+This refers to the winged beetle, the buzzard-clock.
+
+
+(3) l. 323, "The bird, etc." The owl. Compare Cowper's 'Task', i. ll.
+205, 206.
+
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poetical Works of William
+Wordsworth, Edited by William Knight
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETRY OF WORDSWORTH ***
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+<!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=iso-8859-1">
+<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}
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+</head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
+Edited by William Knight
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
+ Volume 1 of 8
+
+Author: (Edited by William Knight)
+
+Release Date: November 23, 2003 [EBook #10219]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETRY OF WORDSWORTH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Clytie Siddall and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<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&mdash;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>&mdash;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&mdash;derived from many MS. sources&mdash;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&mdash;a plan first adopted in
+1815&mdash;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&mdash;long kept at Rydal Mount, and bought,
+after Mrs. Wordsworth's death, at the sale of a portion of the Library
+at the Mount&mdash;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&mdash;a
+dear friend of the Rydal Mount household, and a woman of remarkable
+character and faculty&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;as the
+works of every poet should be issued&mdash;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&mdash;the editors of the twentieth century may note this&mdash;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&mdash;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 &mdash;with a few from
+Mary and Dora Wordsworth&mdash;are arranged chronologically, and published by
+themselves. Hitherto, these letters have been scattered in many
+quarters&mdash;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&mdash;since Henry
+Reed&mdash;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&mdash;who wrote an interesting book on Wordsworth's
+friend, <i>Le Général Michel Beaupuy</i> (1891)&mdash;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&mdash;Poems, Prose Works,
+Journals, Letters, and Life&mdash;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&mdash;no matter who&mdash;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,"&mdash;either in his edition of 1838, <i>or in any subsequent
+issue</i> of his Poems&mdash;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"&mdash;as Professor Dowden has done, in his
+admirable Aldine edition&mdash;titles which were not Wordsworth's, without
+some indication to that effect. But, in the case of Selections from
+Wordsworth&mdash;such as those of Mr. Hawes Turner, and Mr. A. J.
+Symington,&mdash;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&mdash;and one of
+Wordsworth's most illustrious successors in the great hierarchy of
+English poesy, Matthew Arnold&mdash;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>&mdash;written, it
+is true, in these early years,&mdash;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&mdash;at all events it is easy to
+understand, and to sympathise with, his writing&mdash;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&mdash;if
+any&mdash;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&mdash;as e.g. in the early editions of "Lyrical
+Ballads"&mdash;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>&mdash;originally
+contributed to "The Friend"&mdash;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&mdash;however valuable, or even
+necessary, by way of illustration,&mdash;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&mdash;in Wordsworth's case&mdash;"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&mdash;to
+understand which the reader must turn the pages repeatedly, from text to
+note and note to text, forwards and backwards, at times
+distractingly&mdash;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)&mdash;because it disturbs the
+pleasure of the reader who cares for the poetry of Wordsworth, and for
+the poetry alone&mdash;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&mdash;for they could not but
+profit&mdash;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&mdash;and especially of a poet who himself adopted a different
+plan&mdash;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&mdash;it may be&mdash;the decline and fall of his genius.
+Wordsworth's own arrangement&mdash;first adopted in the edition of 1815&mdash;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&mdash;carefully arranged by their author&mdash;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"&mdash;thus removing
+them from their original places, in his collected works&mdash;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&mdash;once as a sequel to the first
+poem, and again in its chronological place&mdash;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&mdash;including the sonnets and odes&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;viz. the evolution of
+the poet's genius&mdash;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>&mdash;written in the years
+1791-94&mdash;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>&mdash;"commenced in the beginning of the year 1799,
+and completed in the summer of 1805"&mdash;was published posthumously in
+1850: and some unpublished poems&mdash;both "of early and late years"&mdash;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&mdash;which will be afterwards more fully referred to&mdash;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&mdash;for a certain portion of
+Wordsworth's life&mdash;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,&mdash;and also to the second collected edition of 1820, in four
+volumes,&mdash;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&mdash;although then, relatively, "up to date"&mdash;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&mdash;both as to the composition and first publication of the poems
+&mdash;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&mdash;as in so many other things&mdash;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&mdash;and this is shown, not only in the
+Chronological Table, but at the beginning of each separate poem&mdash;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>&mdash;although written afterwards at
+Rydal&mdash;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&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;</i>, by its natural sequel&mdash;<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&mdash;he was often infelicitous in his titles&mdash;<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&mdash;such
+as the "Ecclesiastical Sonnets," or those referring to the
+"Duddon"&mdash;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"&mdash;inserted in the 1845
+and 1849-50 editions of the collected Works&mdash;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"&mdash;first called "Ecclesiastical Sketches"&mdash;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&mdash;in which it helps to form a unity&mdash;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"&mdash;and
+first published in the year 1835, in the volume entitled "Yarrow
+Revisited, and Other Poems"&mdash;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&mdash;1832 to 1835&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;1815 to 1850&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;in the various editions issued by
+himself&mdash;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&mdash;notably Charles Lamb&mdash;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&mdash;in some cases quite impossible&mdash;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&mdash;after much consideration&mdash;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&mdash;along with the text selected&mdash;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&mdash;not because it is always intrinsically the best, but on other
+grounds to be immediately stated&mdash;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&mdash;even among the
+most competent of contemporary judges&mdash;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,&mdash;according to the wisdom, or the want of wisdom, of
+the editor,&mdash;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&mdash;under the idea that his judgment might be of some use to other
+people&mdash;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>&mdash;composed in 1825&mdash;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&mdash;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!&mdash;<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,&mdash;when in fact Wordsworth is
+as far away from his critics as Shakespeare now is&mdash;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,&mdash;and if, for
+the present, one text must be retained uniformly throughout,&mdash;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&mdash;viz. <i>An Evening Walk</i> and
+<i>Descriptive Sketches</i>,&mdash;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&mdash;in the form in which they first appeared&mdash;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&mdash;such as <i>Guilt and Sorrow</i>, <i>Peter Bell</i>, and
+many others&mdash;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&mdash; in the place of honour,&mdash;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&mdash;as we do find&mdash;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&mdash;as we see from his sister's Journal&mdash;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&mdash;not only
+in her external form and colour, but also in her suggestiveness&mdash;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&mdash;with a view to its insertion in the first
+edition of the collected works&mdash;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&mdash;given in the footnote&mdash;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&mdash;occurring in one or other of the
+earlier editions&mdash;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,&mdash;as is largely the case in <i>Simon
+Lee</i>, for example&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;although only in a
+fragmentary manner&mdash;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&mdash;from the MS. which I have examined with care&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;and will doubtless be asked again&mdash;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>&mdash;written in his eighteenth
+year&mdash;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,&mdash;in Wordsworth's lyrics as in Beethoven's
+sonatas&mdash;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,"&mdash;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>,&mdash;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&mdash;and which some would prefer to leave for ever undisturbed in
+the realm of imagination &mdash;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&mdash;and also, by itself, in
+1822&mdash;"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&mdash; at Principal Shairp's
+request&mdash;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,&mdash;"as a pilgrim resolute"&mdash;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>&mdash;or
+published in stray quarters, and in desultory fashion&mdash;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&mdash;whether he lives to
+old age (when his judgment may possibly be less critical) or dies young
+(when it may be relatively more accurate)&mdash;should himself determine what
+portions of his work ought, and what ought not to survive. At the same
+time,&mdash;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,&mdash;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.,&mdash;casting light on their contemporaries&mdash;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>,&mdash;also suppressed after
+appearing in "Lyrical Ballads" of 1800, 1802, and 1805,&mdash;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>&mdash;a sonnet
+on the rebuilding of a church at Cardiff&mdash;an Election Squib written
+during the Lowther and Brougham contest for the representation of the
+county of Cumberland in 1818&mdash;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&mdash;himself a
+poet and critic of no mean order&mdash;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&mdash;this is
+true even of Shakespeare&mdash;and if they wished them to perish, why should
+we seek to resuscitate them? Besides, this labour&mdash;whether due to the
+industry of admiring friends, or to the ambition of the literary
+resurrectionist&mdash;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&mdash;in a literary sense&mdash;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"&mdash;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"&mdash;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,&mdash;written when he was experimenting with his theme, and when
+the inspiration of genius had forsaken him,&mdash;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>&mdash;which were issued in all the earlier volumes, and
+afterwards incorporated in <i>The Prelude</i>&mdash;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&mdash;at the suggestion of several friends &mdash;I have followed the
+example of Professor Dowden in his Aldine edition, and numbered the
+lines of almost all the poems&mdash;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,&mdash;and his sister,
+in her Journals&mdash;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.&mdash;edited by Dr.
+Sadler&mdash;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&mdash;who have been so kind as to
+put their Wordsworth MSS. and memoranda at my disposal&mdash;will be
+apparent.<br>
+<br>
+It is difficult to acknowledge duly my obligation to collectors of
+autograph Letters&mdash;Mr. Morrison, the late Mr. Locker Lampson, the late
+Mr. Mackay, of the Grange, Trowbridge, and a score of others&mdash; 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,&mdash; which I think was second only to his interest in Coleridge&mdash;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 &mdash;in addition to
+a new Life, a critical Essay, and such a Bibliography of Criticism as
+will be adequate for posterity&mdash;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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; <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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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&mdash;and not in "Lyrical Ballads" or <i>The
+Excursion</i>&mdash;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; <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> &nbsp;It may not be too trivial a fact to mention that
+Wordsworth numbered the lines of his earliest publication, 'An Evening
+Walk, in l793.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr19">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="f20"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 20:</span></a> &nbsp; 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."&mdash;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.&mdash;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."&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;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> &nbsp; See the <i>Memoirs of William Wordsworth</i>, by Christopher
+Wordsworth (1851), vol. i. pp. 10-31.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#frA">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="fB"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp; Compare the <i>Ode, composed in January 1816</i>, stanza
+v.&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+
+<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> &nbsp;
+
+<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> &nbsp;
+
+<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> &nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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>.&mdash;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.&mdash;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> &nbsp;The date of the composition of this fragment is quite
+unknown.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#section2">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="f1B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp; But previously, in <i>The Morning Post</i>, Feb. 13, 1802.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#section2">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="f1C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+
+<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> &nbsp;
+
+<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>&mdash;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,&mdash;<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.&mdash;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.&mdash;Ed.</span>
+
+<blockquote> 'General Sketch of the Lakes&mdash;<br>
+Author's regret of his Youth which was
+ passed amongst them&mdash;<br>
+Short description of Noon&mdash;<br>
+Cascade&mdash;<br>
+Noon-tide Retreat&mdash;<br>
+Precipice and sloping Lights&mdash;<br>
+Face of Nature as the Sun
+ declines&mdash;<br>
+Mountain-farm, and the
+ Cock&mdash;<br>
+Slate-quarry&mdash;<br>
+Sunset&mdash;<br>
+Superstition of the Country connected with
+ that moment&mdash;<br>
+Swans&mdash;<br>
+Female Beggar&mdash;<br>
+Twilight-sounds&mdash;<br>
+Western
+ Lights&mdash;<br>
+Spirits&mdash;<br>
+Night&mdash;<br>
+Moonlight&mdash;<br>
+Hope&mdash;<br>
+Night-sounds&mdash;<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&mdash;<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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;<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,&mdash;<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,&mdash; <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&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;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>
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+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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>&mdash;Then Quiet led me up the huddling rill,<br>
+ Bright'ning with water-breaks the sombrous gill;<br><br>
+
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;
+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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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&mdash;205-211&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>
+ &mdash;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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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.&mdash;<br>
+ "Now ruthless Tempest launch thy deadliest dart!<br>
+ Fall fires&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>&mdash;'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>
+ &mdash;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>
+ &mdash;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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+ <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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;</a> These rude structures, to protect the flocks, are
+frequent in this country: the traveller may recollect one in Withburne,
+another upon Whinlatter.&mdash;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> &nbsp;</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.&mdash;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.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#1v56">return to variant</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="iii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote iii:</span> &nbsp;</a> The lily of the valley is found in great abundance in
+the smaller islands of Winandermere.&mdash;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> &nbsp;</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."&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#1v77">return to variant</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="v"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote v:</span> &nbsp;</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>.&mdash;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> &nbsp;</a> This long passage occupies, in the edition of 1793,
+the place of lines 297-314 in the final text given above.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#1v91">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="vii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote vii:</span> &nbsp;</a>
+
+ <blockquote>"So break those glittering shadows, human joys"</blockquote>
+
+(<b>Young</b>).&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<br>
+The line occurs 'Night V, The Complaint', l. 1042, or l. 27 from the
+end.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#1v91a">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="viii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote viii:</span> &nbsp;</a>
+
+ <blockquote>"Charming the night-calm with her powerful song." </blockquote>
+
+A line of one of our older poets.&mdash;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> &nbsp; See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836
+(p. 1).&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#section3">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2b"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp; It may not be irrelevant to mention that our late poet,
+Robert Browning, besought me&mdash;both in conversation, and by letter&mdash;to
+restore this "discarded" picture, in editing 'Dion'.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr2b">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2c"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> &nbsp;These lines are only applicable to the middle part of that
+lake.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr2c">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2d"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr2d">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2e"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote E:</span></a> &nbsp;The word 'intake' is local, and signifies a
+mountain-inclosure.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr2e">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2f"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote F:</span></a> &nbsp;Gill is also, I believe, a term confined to this country.
+Glen, gill, and dingle, have the same meaning.&mdash;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."&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr2f">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2g"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote G:</span></a> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr2g">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2h"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote H:</span></a> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr2j">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2k"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote K:</span></a> &nbsp;
+
+ <blockquote> "Vivid rings of green."</blockquote>
+
+Greenwood's Poem on Shooting.&mdash;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.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr2k">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2l"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote L:</span></a> &nbsp;
+
+ <blockquote>"Down the rough slope the pondrous waggon rings."</blockquote>
+
+<b>Beattie</b>.&mdash;W. W.<br>
+<br>
+1793. See 'The Minstrel', stanza xxxix., l. 4.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr2l">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2m"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote M:</span></a> &nbsp;
+
+<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.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr2m">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2n"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote N:</span></a> &nbsp; I am unable to trace this quotation.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr2n">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2p"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote P:</span></a> &nbsp; From Thomson: see Scott's <i>Critical Essays</i>.&mdash;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> &nbsp;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.&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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> &nbsp;This is a fact of which I have been an eye-witness.&mdash;W. W.
+1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr2r">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2s"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote S:</span></a> &nbsp; The quotation is from Collins' <i>The Passions</i>, l. 60.
+Compare <i>Personal Talk</i>, l. 26.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr2s">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2t"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote T:</span></a> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr2t">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="2u"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote U:</span></a> &nbsp; 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&mdash;a singularly versatile English divine
+(1717-1766)&mdash;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>.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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."&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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.&mdash;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!&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; The title in the editions 1802-1815 was <i>Remembrance of
+Collins, written upon the Thames near Richmond</i>.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#section5">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="5B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;W. W. 1798.<br>
+<a href="#fr5C">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="5D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> &nbsp;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.&mdash;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> &nbsp;</a> The italics only occur in the editions of 1798 and
+1800.&mdash;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>&mdash;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>,&mdash;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&mdash;'In
+ solemn shapes'&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;with all the notes to that edition
+of 1793&mdash;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>.&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+Pleasures of the pedestrian Traveller&mdash;<br>
+Author crosses France to
+the Alps&mdash;<br>
+Present state of the Grande Chartreuse&mdash;<br>
+Lake of Como&mdash;<br>
+Time, Sunset&mdash;<br>
+Same Scene, Twilight&mdash;<br>
+Same Scene, Morning; its voluptuous Character; Old man and forest-cottage music&mdash;<br>
+River Tusa&mdash;<br>
+Via Mala and Grison Gipsy&mdash;<br>
+Sckellenen-thal&mdash;<br>
+Lake of Uri&mdash;<br>
+Stormy sunset&mdash;<br>
+Chapel of William Tell&mdash;<br>
+Force of local emotion&mdash;<br>
+Chamois-chaser&mdash;<br>
+View of the higher Alps&mdash;<br>
+Manner of Life of a Swiss mountaineer, interspersed with views of
+the higher Alps&mdash;<br>
+Golden Age of the Alps&mdash;<br>
+Life and views continued&mdash;<br>
+Ranz des Vaches, famous Swiss Air&mdash;<br>
+Abbey of Einsiedlen and its pilgrims&mdash;<br>
+Valley of Chamouny&mdash;<br>
+Mont Blanc&mdash;<br>
+Slavery of Savoy&mdash;<br>
+Influence of liberty on cottage-happiness&mdash;<br>
+France&mdash;<br>
+Wish for the Extirpation of slavery&mdash;<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&mdash;"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>
+
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;To towns, whose shades of no rude noise complain,<br>
+From ringing team apart and grating wain&mdash;<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&mdash;<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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;a mighty caravan of pain:<br>
+Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings,<br>
+Freshening the wilderness with shades and springs.<br>
+&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;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:&mdash; <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;&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;'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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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;&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;<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>
+&mdash;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;&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;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:&mdash;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;&mdash;<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&mdash;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,&mdash;<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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;But foes are gathering&mdash;Liberty must raise<br>
+Red on the hills her beacon's far-seen blaze;<br>
+Must bid the tocsin ring from tower to tower!&mdash;<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>
+&mdash;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>
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+<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>
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+<br>
+<br>
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+<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>
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+<br>
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+<br>
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+<br>
+<br>
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+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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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;&mdash;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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:&mdash; ... <br>
+ <br>
+ ... the abyss:&mdash; ... </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> &nbsp;
+<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>
+ &mdash;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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,&mdash;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>
+ &mdash;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,&mdash;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&mdash;<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1845 &nbsp;&nbsp;<i>Lines 186-195 were substituted in 1845 for:</i></td>
+ <td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><blockquote> &mdash;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>
+ &mdash;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>
+ &mdash;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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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;&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1845 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &mdash;Before those hermit doors, that never know<br>
+ <br>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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 &amp; 67:</span></a> &nbsp; See <a href="#section31">Appendix III.</a>&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6v66">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6v68"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 68:</span></a> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1845 &nbsp;&nbsp;<i>Lines 246 to 253 were previously:</i></td>
+ <td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><blockquote> &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<i>Lines 380-385 were previously:</i></td>
+ <td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><blockquote>&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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>&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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!&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1845 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<i>(Compressing six lines into four:)</i></td>
+ <td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><blockquote> &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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> &nbsp;
+<table summary="variant" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5">
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td>1836 &nbsp;&nbsp;<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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;
+<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&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp; See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836
+(p. 1).&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#section6">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp; 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."&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6B">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> &nbsp; In a small pocket copy of the <i>Orlando Furioso</i> of
+Ariosto&mdash;now in the possession of the poet's grandson, Mr. Gordon
+Wordsworth&mdash;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.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6B">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> &nbsp; By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this
+edition (1840). <a href="#C-R1">See</a> p. 79.&mdash;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6F">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6G"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote G:</span></a> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;Alluding to crosses seen on the tops of the spiry rocks of
+the Chartreuse, which have every appearance of being inaccessible.&mdash;W.
+W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6H">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6J"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote J:</span></a> &nbsp; Compare Milton's <i>Ode on the Nativity</i>, stanza xx.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6J">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6K"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote K:</span></a> &nbsp; Names of rivers at the Chartreuse.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6K">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6L"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote L:</span></a> &nbsp; Name of one of the valleys of the Chartreuse.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6L">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6M"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote M:</span></a> &nbsp; The river along whose banks you descend in crossing the
+Alps by the Simplon Pass&mdash;-W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6M">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6N"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote N:</span></a> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6N">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6P"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote P:</span></a> &nbsp;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.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6P">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Q"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Q:</span></a> &nbsp; Crosses commemorative of the deaths of travellers by the
+fall of snow and other accidents very common along this dreadful
+road.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6Q">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6R"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote R:</span></a> &nbsp;The houses in the more retired Swiss valleys are all built
+of wood.&mdash; W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6R">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6S"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote S:</span></a> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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>.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6T">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6U"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote U:</span></a> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6U">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6V"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote V:</span></a> &nbsp;This picture is from the middle region of the Alps.&mdash;W. W.
+1815. <i>Chalets</i> are summer huts for the Swiss herdsmen.&mdash;W. W. 1836.<br>
+<a href="#fr6V">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6W"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote W:</span></a> &nbsp; Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind
+through the trees.&mdash;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."&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6W">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6X"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote X:</span></a> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6X">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Y"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Y:</span></a> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6Y">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Z"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Z:</span></a> &nbsp; As Schreck-Horn, the pike of terror. Wetter-Horn, the pike
+of storms, etc., etc.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6Z">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Aa"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Aa:</span></a> &nbsp; The effect of the famous air called in French Ranz des
+Vaches upon the Swiss troops.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6Aa">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Bb"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Bb:</span></a> &nbsp;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.&mdash;W. W. 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6Bb">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Cc"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Cc:</span></a> &nbsp;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.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6Cc">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Dd"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Dd:</span></a> &nbsp; Rude fountains built and covered with sheds for the
+accommodation of the pilgrims, in their ascent of the mountain.&mdash;W. W.
+1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6Dd">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Ee"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnotes Ee:</span></a> &nbsp; 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>.&mdash;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> &nbsp; See <a href="#6Ee">note</a> on Coleridge's <i>Hymn before Sun-rise</i> on previous
+page.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6Ff">return</a><br><br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Gg"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Gg:</span></a> &nbsp; An insect so called, which emits a short, melancholy cry,
+heard, at the close of the summer evenings, on the banks of the
+Loire.&mdash;W. W, 1793.<br>
+<a href="#fr6Gg">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6Hh"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Hh:</span></a> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;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> &nbsp;</a>In the edition of 1815, the 28 lines, from "No sad
+vacuities" to "a wanderer came there," are entitled "Pleasures of the
+Pedestrian."&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#6v5">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6ii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote ii:</span> &nbsp;</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> &nbsp;</a>In the editions of 1820 to 1832 the four lines
+beginning "The Grison gypsey," etc., precede those beginning "The mind
+condemned," etc.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#6v48">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6iv"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote iv:</span> &nbsp;</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.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6iv">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6v"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote v:</span> &nbsp;</a> This and the following line are only in the editions of
+1815 and 1820.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr6vv">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="6vi"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote vi:</span> &nbsp;</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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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,&mdash;'Five years have passed,' etc.&mdash;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>,&mdash;which was the title under which one-third of the
+longer poem appeared in all the complete editions prior to 1845&mdash;is as
+follows.&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;the other poems belonging to the "Juvenile
+Pieces" being numbered I. II. and III.&mdash;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.&mdash;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;&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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,&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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,&mdash;<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;&mdash;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;&mdash;<br>
+I could not pray:&mdash;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:&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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.'&mdash;<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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+Oh! tell me whither&mdash;for no earthly friend<br>
+Have I."&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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,&mdash;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;&mdash;<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&mdash;there and upon that ground&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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?"&mdash;<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;&mdash;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,&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;"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&mdash;"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&mdash;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.&mdash; <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&mdash;<br>
+Near his own home!&mdash;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&mdash;"Do pity me! That thou shouldst live <br>
+I neither ask nor wish&mdash;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,&mdash;his pulses throbbed and stopped,<br>
+Breathless he gazed upon her face,&mdash;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:&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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,&mdash;<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&mdash;hoping for a day<br>
+ When Fortune should put on a kinder look;<br>
+ But vain were wishes&mdash;efforts vain as they:<br>
+ He from his old hereditary nook<br>
+ Must part,&mdash;the summons came,&mdash;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> &nbsp;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&mdash;but it was vain&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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>
+ &mdash;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.&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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&mdash; <br>
+ <br>
+ Here will I live:&mdash;of every friend disown'd,<br>
+ Here will I roam about the ocean flood.&mdash; <br>
+ <br>
+ And end my days upon the ocean flood."&mdash; </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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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&mdash; </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> &nbsp;In the <i>Prelude</i>, he says it was "three summer days." See
+book xiii. l. 337.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr7A">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="7B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp;By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this
+edition (1840). <a href="#6D">See</a> p. 37.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr7B">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="7C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> &nbsp;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.&mdash;W. W. 1842.<br>
+<br>
+Charles Farish was the author of <i>The Minstrels of Winandermere</i>.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr7C">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="7D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> &nbsp;Compare Milton's "grinding sword," <i>Paradise Lost</i>, vi. l.
+329.&mdash;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> &nbsp;</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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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."&mdash;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>
+ &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 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.&mdash;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,&mdash;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.&mdash;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,&mdash;how lovely 'tis<br>
+Thou seest,&mdash;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,&mdash;this seat his only monument.<br>
+ &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 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.&mdash;Ed.</span><br>
+<br>
+<hr width="25%" align="left"><br>
+<br>
+<a name="8v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;The Ferry on Windermere.&mdash;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> &nbsp;</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.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr8v5">return to variant</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="f8ii"><span style="color: #663300;">Sub-Footnote ii:</span> &nbsp;</a>An emendation by S. T. C.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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>
+&mdash;-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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;</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!&mdash;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.&mdash;Nobody loves this Oswald&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash; <br>
+<i> (Looking forward)</i><br>
+Not yet in sight!&mdash;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!&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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!&mdash;<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&mdash;<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,&mdash;<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;&mdash;come, let me feel<br>
+That you do press upon me. There&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Herbert</i></td>
+ <td>I comprehend thee&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+This Marmaduke&mdash;</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&mdash;<br>
+Dear Father! how <i>could</i> I forget and live&mdash;<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!&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<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,&mdash;there,<br>
+Our melancholy story moved a Stranger<br>
+To take thee to her home&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+'Tis but for a few days&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;<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>!&mdash;death&mdash;<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.&mdash;A Man<br>
+Who has so practised on the world's cold sense,<br>
+May well deceive his Child&mdash;what! leave her thus,<br>
+A prey to a deceiver?&mdash;no&mdash;no&mdash;no&mdash;<br>
+'Tis but a word and then&mdash;</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&mdash;you have had enemies.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>Enemies!&mdash;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.&mdash;<br>
+I am perplexed.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>No&mdash;no&mdash;the thing stands clear of mystery;<br>
+(As you have said) he coins himself the slander<br>
+With which he taints her ear;&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Oswald</i></td>
+ <td> Heaven forbid!&mdash;<br>
+There was a circumstance, trifling indeed&mdash;<br>
+It struck me at the time&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;it cannot be&mdash;<br>
+I dare not trust myself with such a thought&mdash;<br>
+Yet whence this strange aversion? You are a man<br>
+Not used to rash conjectures&mdash;</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&mdash;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,&mdash;I have measured many a league<br>
+When these old limbs had need of rest,&mdash;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!&mdash;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;&mdash;but One so young,<br>
+And One so fair, it goes against my heart<br>
+That you should travel unattended, Lady!&mdash;<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&mdash;protect him, Saints&mdash;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&mdash;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.&mdash;<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&mdash;a wedding festival&mdash;<br>
+That's all&mdash;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.&mdash;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!&mdash;<br>
+That noise!&mdash;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;&mdash;the Baron might<br>
+Have heard my suit, and urged my plea at Court.<br>
+No matter&mdash;he's a dangerous Man.&mdash;That noise!&mdash;<br>
+'Tis too disorderly for sleep or rest.<br>
+Idonea would have fears for me,&mdash;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&mdash;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!&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;</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.&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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&mdash; 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.&mdash;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!&mdash;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.&mdash;You gentlefolk have got <br>
+Warm chambers to your wish. I'd rather be<br>
+A stone than what I am.&mdash;But two nights gone,<br>
+The darkness overtook me&mdash;wind and rain<br>
+Beat hard upon my head&mdash;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.&mdash;<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&mdash;no matter&mdash;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&mdash;it cuts me to the heart&mdash;<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&mdash;<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&mdash;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!&mdash;Charity!<br>
+If you can melt a rock, he is your man;<br>
+But I'll be even with him&mdash;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;&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+Well!&mdash;he has often spurned me like a toad,<br>
+But yesterday was worse than all;&mdash;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&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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?&mdash;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?&mdash;</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&mdash;<br>
+But how's the day?&mdash;I fear, my little Boy,<br>
+We've overslept ourselves.&mdash;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;&mdash;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!&mdash;</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!&mdash;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&mdash;not I; my husband, Sir,<br>
+Was of Kirkoswald&mdash;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&mdash;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!&mdash;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!&mdash;</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&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;<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!&mdash;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&mdash;holla!<br>
+ <i> [Calling to the Beggar, who returns; he looks at her stedfastly.]</i><br>
+ You are Idonea's Mother?&mdash;<br>
+Nay, be not terrified&mdash;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&mdash;did you see him talk with Herbert?</td>
+</tr><tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Beggar</i></td>
+ <td>Yes, to my sorrow&mdash;under the great oak<br>
+At Herbert's door&mdash;and when he stood beside<br>
+The blind Man&mdash;at the silent Girl he looked<br>
+With such a look&mdash;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!&mdash;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!&mdash;<br>
+Oswald, the firm foundation of my life<br>
+Is going from under me; these strange discoveries&mdash;<br>
+Looked at from every point of fear or hope,<br>
+Duty, or love&mdash;involve, I feel, my ruin.</td>
+</tr>
+</table><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<span style="font-size: 150%;">Act II</span><br>
+<br>
+<i><b>Scene&mdash;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!&mdash;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&mdash;a most unnatural fire<br>
+That died the moment the air breathed upon it.<br>
+&mdash;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;&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;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;&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;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&mdash;</td>
+</tr><tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Oswald</i></td>
+ <td>You will forgive me&mdash;</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.&mdash;Oswald, I have loved<br>
+To be the friend and father of the oppressed,<br>
+A comforter of sorrow;&mdash;there is something<br>
+Which looks like a transition in my soul,<br>
+And yet it is not.&mdash;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&mdash;if you will have it so&mdash;<br>
+Here where we stand&mdash;that tribe of vulgar wretches<br>
+(You saw them gathering for the festival)<br>
+Rush in&mdash;the villains seize us&mdash;</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&mdash;<br>
+Men who are little given to sift and weigh&mdash;<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&mdash;farewell&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+ <i> (to <b>Herbert</b>) </i>Sir!<br>
+I hope you are refreshed.&mdash;I have just written<br>
+A notice for your Daughter, that she may know<br>
+What is become of you.&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;he shakes.</td>
+</tr><tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td></td>
+ <td><i>[Exeunt <b>Oswald</b> and <b>Herbert</b>&mdash;<b>Marmaduke</b> following.]</i></td>
+</tr>
+</table><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<b><i>Scene changes to a Wood&mdash;</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.&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+But you were then a tottering Little-one&mdash;<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&mdash;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.&mdash;<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&mdash;The Area of a half-ruined Castle&mdash;on one side the entrance to a
+dungeon&mdash;</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&mdash;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,&mdash;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!&mdash;</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!&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;what say you to it?<br>
+Three of us&mdash;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?&mdash;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&mdash;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,&mdash;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,&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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!&mdash;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!&mdash;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!&mdash;<br>
+When from the Holy Land I had returned<br>
+Sightless, and from my heritage was driven,<br>
+A wretched Outcast&mdash;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&mdash;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?&mdash;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!&mdash;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!&mdash;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?&mdash;away!&mdash;<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&mdash;</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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+Murder&mdash;perhaps asleep, blind, old, alone,<br>
+Betrayed, in darkness! Here to strike the blow&mdash;<br>
+Away! away!&mdash; <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&mdash;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!&mdash;</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&mdash;I see it now!<br>
+The same that tempted me to loathe the gift.&mdash;<br>
+For this old venerable Grey-beard&mdash;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&mdash;that countenance&mdash;<br>
+His staff&mdash;his figure&mdash;Murder!&mdash;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;&mdash;<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&mdash;<br>
+This Boy&mdash;when he comes forth with bloody hands&mdash;<br>
+Might envy, and am now,&mdash;but he shall know<br>
+What I am now&mdash; <i> [Goes and listens at the dungeon.]</i><br>
+ Praying or parleying?&mdash;tut!<br>
+Is he not eyeless? He has been half-dead<br>
+These fifteen years&mdash;<br><br>
+
+<i>[Enter female Beggar with two or three of her Companions.]</i><br><br>
+
+<i>(Turning abruptly.)</i> Ha! speak&mdash;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!&mdash;</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&mdash;<i>I repent me.</i><br>
+<br>
+<i>[<b>Oswald</b> goes to the dungeon&mdash;listens&mdash;returns to the Beggar.]</i></td>
+</tr><tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Oswald</i></td>
+ <td>Woman, thou hast a helpless Infant&mdash;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,&mdash;</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;&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;</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&mdash;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&mdash;dark as the grave; yet did I see,<br>
+Saw him&mdash;his face turned toward me; and I tell thee<br>
+Idonea's filial countenance was there<br>
+To baffle me&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+ <i> [The sound of a horn is heard.]</i><br>
+That horn again&mdash;'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&mdash;<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;&mdash;<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&mdash;</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&mdash;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Lacy</i></td>
+ <td>Troth, 'tis hard&mdash;<br>
+But in a world like ours&mdash;</td>
+</tr><tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td><i>(changing his tone)</i><br>
+ This self-same Man&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;</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&mdash;</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&mdash;<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&mdash;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!&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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!&mdash;<br>
+I am of flesh and blood, and may I perish<br>
+When my heart does not ache to think of it!&mdash;<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&mdash;pure<br>
+As beautiful, and gentle and benign,<br>
+And in her ample heart loving even me&mdash;<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!&mdash;</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&mdash; _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&mdash;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&mdash;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.&mdash;Methinks<br>
+It were a pleasant pastime to construct<br>
+A scale and table of belief&mdash;as thus&mdash;<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&mdash;proof&mdash;<br>
+Nay, we must travel in another path,<br>
+Or we're stuck fast for ever;&mdash;passion, then,<br>
+Shall be a unit <i>for</i> us; proof&mdash;no, passion!<br>
+We'll not insult thy majesty by time,<br>
+Person, and place&mdash;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?&mdash;<br>
+These are strange sights&mdash;the mind of man, upturned,<br>
+Is in all natures a strange spectacle;<br>
+In some a hideous one&mdash;hem! shall I stop?<br>
+No.&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;</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&mdash;prove this&mdash;'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&mdash;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&mdash;strange if she were not!&mdash;<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!&mdash;</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&mdash;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!&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;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&mdash;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!&mdash;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.&mdash;<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&mdash;see him yonder.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>Ha! ha!&mdash;</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&mdash;</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!&mdash;'tis well&mdash;I feared,<br>
+The Stranger had some pitiable sorrow<br>
+Pressing upon his solitary heart.<br>
+Hush!&mdash;'tis the feeble and earth-loving wind<br>
+That creeps along the bells of the crisp heather. <br>
+Alas! 'tis cold&mdash;I shiver in the sunshine&mdash;<br>
+What can this mean? There is a psalm that speaks<br>
+Of God's parental mercies&mdash;with Idonea<br>
+I used to sing it.&mdash;Listen!&mdash;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&mdash;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;&mdash;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&mdash;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;&mdash;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!&mdash;<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&mdash;pshaw!&mdash;</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&mdash;<br>
+The Spirit of a murdered man, for instance&mdash;<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&mdash;</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!&mdash;A Flower,<br>
+Fairest of all flowers, was she once, but now<br>
+They have snapped her from the stem&mdash;Poh! let her lie<br>
+Besoiled with mire, and let the houseless snail<br>
+Feed on her leaves. You knew her well&mdash;ay, there,<br>
+Old Man! you were a very Lynx, you knew<br>
+The worm was in her&mdash;</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!&mdash;<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&mdash;I could weep too&mdash; <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&mdash;<br>
+I did not think that aught was left in me <br>
+Of what I have been&mdash;yes, I thank thee, Heaven!<br>
+One happy thought has passed across my mind.<br>
+&mdash;It may not be&mdash;I am cut off from man;<br>
+No more shall I be man&mdash;no more shall I<br>
+Have human feelings!&mdash;<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,&mdash;<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!&mdash;<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!&mdash;<br>
+But I had once a spirit and an arm&mdash;</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&mdash;what's your title&mdash;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;&mdash;<br>
+I murmured&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;that innocent Babe&mdash;<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&mdash;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,&mdash;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.&mdash;Innocent!&mdash;<br>
+If he were innocent&mdash;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&mdash;here&mdash;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>!&mdash;<br>
+He heard a voice&mdash;a shepherd-lad came to him<br>
+And was his guide; if once, why not again,<br>
+And in this desert? If never&mdash;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!&mdash;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&mdash;</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;&mdash;repent and be forgiven&mdash;<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&mdash;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!&mdash;<br>
+Our Captain made a prey to foul device!&mdash;</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&mdash;<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!&mdash;<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&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;I am mistaken. There's a weakness<br>
+About you still; you talk of solitude&mdash;<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;&mdash;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!&mdash;<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!&mdash;<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?&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;a step, a blow,<br>
+The motion of a muscle&mdash;this way or that&mdash;<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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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!&mdash;pity!&mdash;pride can do without them;<br>
+And what if you should never know them more!&mdash; <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&mdash;to teach<br>
+And not to purchase puling sympathy. <br>
+&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;<br>
+It is most strange.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Oswald</i></td>
+ <td>Murder!&mdash;what's in the word!&mdash;<br>
+I have no cases by me ready made<br>
+To fit all deeds. Carry him to the Camp!&mdash;<br>
+A shallow project;&mdash;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?&mdash;<br>
+This flimsy barrier you have overleaped.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>My Office is fulfilled&mdash;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&mdash;<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.&mdash;Oswald knows it all&mdash;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?&mdash;not thine.</td>
+</tr><tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Idonea</i></td>
+ <td>Ill can I bear that look&mdash;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&mdash; <br>
+<i> [Hides her face.]</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>Patience&mdash;Heaven grant me patience!&mdash;<br>
+She weeps, she weeps&mdash;<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;&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash; <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!&mdash;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!&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;A desolate prospect&mdash;a ridge of rocks&mdash;a Chapel on the summit of
+one&mdash;Moon behind the rocks&mdash; night stormy&mdash;irregular sound of a
+bell</b>&mdash;<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&mdash;my Child&mdash;dark&mdash;dark&mdash;I faint&mdash;this wind&mdash;<br>
+These stifling blasts&mdash;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&mdash;and that weary bell!<br>
+Surely some evil Spirit abroad to-night<br>
+Is ringing it&mdash;'twould stop a Saint in prayer, <br>
+And that&mdash;what is it? never was sound so like<br>
+A human groan. Ha! what is here? Poor Man&mdash;<br>
+Murdered! alas! speak&mdash;speak, I am your friend:<br>
+No answer&mdash;hush&mdash;lost wretch, he lifts his hand<br>
+And lays it to his heart&mdash;(<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&mdash;well&mdash;that is well&mdash;<br>
+I was too fearful&mdash;take me for your guide<br>
+And your support&mdash;my hut is not far off.<br>
+ <i> [Draws him gently off the stage.]</i></td>
+</tr>
+</table><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<i><b>Scene&mdash;A room in the Hostel&mdash;</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!&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;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;&mdash;to a deep stillness<br>
+Did my pride tame my pride;&mdash;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;&mdash;if a breeze had blown,<br>
+It might have found its way into my heart,<br>
+And I had been&mdash;no matter&mdash;do you mark me?</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>Quick&mdash;to the point&mdash;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!&mdash;<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!&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;even so&mdash;<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&mdash;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>You returned<br>
+Upon that dismal hearing&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+All vanished. I gave way&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;I was o'erthrown<br>
+But not destroyed.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>The proofs&mdash;you ought to have seen<br>
+The guilt&mdash;have touched it&mdash;felt it at your heart&mdash;<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&mdash;I was comforted;<br>
+I saw that every possible shape of action <br>
+Might lead to good&mdash;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&mdash;without meat or drink<br>
+Have I lived many days&mdash;my sleep was bound<br>
+To purposes of reason&mdash;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!&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>Stop&mdash;<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&mdash;<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&mdash;'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&mdash;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.&mdash;You have betrayed me&mdash;I have done&mdash;<br>
+I am content&mdash;I know that he is guiltless&mdash;<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!&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;for the future day,<br>
+'Tis his who will command it.&mdash;Think of my story&mdash;<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!&mdash;oh, breaking heart!&mdash;<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&mdash;perdition! <br>
+ <br>
+ <i>[Exit.]</i></td>
+</tr>
+</table><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<i><b>Scene&mdash;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&mdash;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!&mdash;<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&mdash;my heart beats so&mdash;<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&mdash;<br>
+Not even in theirs&mdash;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;&mdash;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!&mdash;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&mdash;
+<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&mdash;&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;his Daughter&mdash;<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&mdash;his wound terrified me&mdash;if I had
+brought him along with me, and he had died in my
+arms!&mdash;&mdash;I am sure I heard something breathing&mdash;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&mdash;no hand to grasp your dying
+hand&mdash;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!&mdash;the damps of death were upon him&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;</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!&mdash;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!&mdash;you heard him breathe? quick, quick&mdash;</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&mdash;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!&mdash;<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!&mdash;</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&mdash;<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&mdash;made by myself.</td>
+</tr>
+</table><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<i><b>Scene&mdash;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&mdash;</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!&mdash;he called you to him? Of all men<br>
+The best and kindest!&mdash;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&mdash;<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.&mdash;<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&mdash;</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&mdash;and thou art one of them!<br>
+But things substantial have so pressed on me&mdash;</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.&mdash;<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&mdash;</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.&mdash;Oh save me, Sir,<br>
+From such a journey!&mdash;there was a black tree,<br>
+A single tree; she thought it was her Father.&mdash;<br>
+Oh Sir, I would not see that hour again<br>
+For twenty lives. The daylight dawned, and now&mdash;<br>
+Nay; hear my tale, 'tis fit that you should hear it&mdash;<br>
+As we approached, a solitary crow<br>
+Rose from the spot;&mdash;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!&mdash;</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&mdash;</b><br>
+<br>
+<b>Idonea</b> seated&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+ <i> [She turns and sees <b>Marmaduke</b> leaning on <b>Eleanor</b>&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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?&mdash;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!&mdash;</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.&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;so meek and unoffending&mdash;<br>
+Helpless and harmless as a babe: a Man,<br>
+By obvious signal to the world's protection,<br>
+Solemnly dedicated&mdash;to decoy him!&mdash;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Idonea</i></td>
+ <td>Oh, had you seen him living!&mdash;</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!&mdash;</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!&mdash;<i>(kneeling)</i>&mdash;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!&mdash;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.&mdash;<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?&mdash;</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;&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+<i>(Striking his heart and forehead.)</i> And here, and here,<br>
+A mortal malady.&mdash;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&mdash;by what mischance?</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Marmaduke</i></td>
+ <td>Belovèd!&mdash;if I dared, so would I call thee&mdash;<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,&mdash;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&mdash;</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!&mdash;that Moor&mdash;how shall I cross it?<br>
+By night, by day, never shall I be able<br>
+To travel half a mile alone.&mdash;Good Lady!<br>
+Forgive me!&mdash;Saints forgive me. Had I thought<br>
+It would have come to this!&mdash;</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!&mdash;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&mdash;oh pity me&mdash;<br>
+I said, sweet Lady, you were not his Daughter&mdash;<br>
+Pity me, I am haunted;&mdash;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?&mdash;no, no, no, for he<br>
+Was meek and patient, feeble, old and blind,<br>
+Helpless, and loved me dearer than his life<br>
+&mdash;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&mdash;left him&mdash;and so he died!&mdash;<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!&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;<br>
+'Twas nothing more than darkness deepening darkness,<br>
+And weakness crowned with the impotence of death!&mdash;<br>
+Your pupil is, you see, an apt proficient.<i> (ironically)</i><br>
+Start not!&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+Of this too much.<br>
+ <i> [Drawing <b>Oswald</b> towards the Cottage&mdash;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;&mdash;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&mdash;<br>
+The wider space the better&mdash;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&mdash;several of the Band enter&mdash;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&mdash;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr align="left" valign="top">
+ <td><i>Oswald</i></td>
+ <td>Ha! is it so!&mdash;That vagrant Hag!&mdash;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!&mdash;<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&mdash;<br>
+Few must they be, and delicate in their touch<br>
+As light itself&mdash;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&mdash;sustain her&mdash;</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&mdash;<br>
+A Man by pain and thought compelled to live,<br>
+Yet loathing life&mdash;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;">&mdash;Ed.</span></blockquote><br>
+
+<hr width="25%" align="left"><br>
+<br>
+<a name="9v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;He doubtless refers to the lines (Act iii. l. 405) "Action
+is transitory&mdash;a step, a blow," etc., which followed the Dedication of
+<i>The White Doe of Rylstone</i> in the edition of 1836.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr9A">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="9B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp; Note prefixed to the edition of 1842.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr9A">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="9C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> &nbsp;Note appended to the edition of 1842.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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."&mdash;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&mdash;and the
+poem must have been written before the edition of 1800 came out&mdash; 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>.&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+The following stanza, in the edition of 1800, was omitted in
+subsequent ones:
+
+<blockquote>Poor Outcast! return&mdash;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> &nbsp; Wordsworth originally wrote "sees." S.T.C. suggested
+"views."&mdash;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> &nbsp;</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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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,&mdash;'He looks up, the clouds are split,' etc.&mdash;I. F.</span></blockquote><br>
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">Classed by Wordsworth among his "Poems of the Imagination."&mdash;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> &mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;the clouds are split<br>
+Asunder,&mdash;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!&mdash;the wind is in the tree,<br>
+But they are silent;&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;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.&mdash;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&mdash;</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 &mdash;&mdash; Meyrick's impertinent structure and all the fopperies it
+ contains.&mdash;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&mdash;a collector of ancient armour, and a great
+authority on the subject&mdash;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."&mdash;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>&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;It was in June, after leaving Alfoxden finally.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr13A">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="13B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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."&mdash;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&mdash;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."&mdash;<br>
+"I cannot tell, I do not know."&mdash;<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&mdash;there was in sight,<br>
+It caught his eye, he saw it plain&mdash;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> ...&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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&mdash;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; See <a href="#section32">Appendix IV.</a>&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#section14">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="14B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;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>.&mdash;I. F.]</span></blockquote>
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">Classed among the "Poems of the Fancy."&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;no breath of air&mdash;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+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> &nbsp;Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal gives the date 1798, and in
+the spring of 1799 the Wordsworths were not at Alfoxden but in
+Germany.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr15A">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="15B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp;The friends were Mrs. Wordsworth, Miss Fenwick, Edward and
+Dora Quillinan, and William Wordsworth (the poet's son). The date was
+May 13, 1841.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr15A">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="15C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> &nbsp; Compare a letter from Wordsworth to Sir George Beaumont,
+written in November 1806, and one to Lady Beaumont in December
+1806.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr15C">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="15D"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote D:</span></a> &nbsp;
+
+ <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).&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;I. F.</span></blockquote>
+
+<hr width="25%" align="left"><br>
+<br>
+<i>The Thorn</i> was always placed among the "Poems of the Imagination."&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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?&mdash;<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&mdash;and Thorn, so old and grey;<br>
+Pass by her door&mdash;'tis seldom shut&mdash;<br>
+And, if you see her in her hut&mdash;<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&mdash;<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?&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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:&mdash;<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,&mdash;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&mdash;I saw her face;<br>
+Her face!&mdash;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&mdash;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!&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+In the editions 1798 to 1815.
+
+ <blockquote>Nay rack your brain&mdash;'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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+
+ <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).&mdash;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).&mdash;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> &nbsp;</a> Compare in Bürger's <i>Pfarrer's Tochter</i>, "drei Spannen
+lang," and see <a href="#section33">Appendix V.</a>&mdash;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.&mdash;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'.&mdash;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>&mdash;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."&mdash;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&mdash;<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>
+&mdash;He hears a noise&mdash;he's all awake&mdash;<br>
+Again?&mdash;on tip-toe down the hill<br>
+He softly creeps&mdash;'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&mdash;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;Compare the many entries about "gathering sticks" in the
+Alfoxden woods, in Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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."&mdash;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!&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+
+ <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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;I. F.</span></blockquote>
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">This poem was classed among those of "Sentiment and Reflection."&mdash;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,&mdash;<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!&mdash;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,&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>
+ &mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; Note that the phrase: 'But oh the heavy change,' occurs in
+Milton's <i>Lycidas</i>. (Professor Dowden.) See <i>Lycidas</i>, l. 37.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr19A">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="19B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; See <a href="#section34">Appendix VI.</a> to this volume.&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;an ash
+ if I rightly remember&mdash;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.&mdash;I. F.</span></blockquote>
+
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">These <i>Lines</i> were included among the "Poems of Sentiment
+and Reflection."&mdash;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:&mdash;<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;&mdash;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.&mdash;Ed.</span><br>
+<br>
+<hr width="25%" align="left"><br>
+<br>
+<a name="20v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; See the Fenwick note to "A whirl-blast from behind the
+hill," p. 238.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr20A">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="20B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp; See <a href="#section35">Appendix VII.</a>&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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."&mdash;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;&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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.&mdash;Ed.</span><br>
+<br>
+<hr width="25%" align="left"><br>
+<br>
+<a name="21v1"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 1:</span></a> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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.&mdash;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>&mdash;I.F.</span></blockquote>
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."&mdash;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?&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+
+"&mdash;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> &nbsp; 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 &mdash;a much more probable
+supposition&mdash;his friend, S. T. Coleridge?&mdash;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.&mdash;Published 1798.</h4>
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."&mdash;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&mdash;<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:&mdash;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;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>.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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."&mdash;I. F.</span></blockquote>
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">Classed among the "Poems founded on the Affections." &mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+This stanza was omitted in the editions 1815 to 1832, but
+restored in 1836.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr24v12">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="24v13"><span style="color: #FF3300;">Variant 13:</span></a> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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.&mdash;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.&mdash;I. F</span></blockquote>.
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">Included among the "Poems founded on the Affections."&mdash;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>
+&mdash;"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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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;&mdash;<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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.&mdash;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.&mdash;I. F.</span></blockquote>
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."&mdash;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,&mdash;a clear March night,<br>
+The moon is up,&mdash;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>
+
+&mdash;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,&mdash;<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,&mdash;<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&mdash;he turns right;<br>
+She watches till he's out of sight,<br>
+And Betty will not then depart.<br><br>
+
+Burr, burr&mdash;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&mdash;'tis almost ten&mdash;<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&mdash;"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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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"&mdash;<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&mdash;<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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;The clock strikes three&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;'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&mdash;her arms are up&mdash;<br>
+She screams&mdash;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,&mdash;<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&mdash;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."&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
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+<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>
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+<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>
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+<br>
+<br>
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+<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>
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+<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>
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+<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>
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+<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>
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+<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>
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+<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>
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+<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>
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+<a name="fr26A"></a><a href="#26A"><sup>A</sup></a><br>
+</td>
+ <td><br>
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+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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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&mdash;"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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp; 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.&mdash;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> &nbsp;</a> This change was made by S. T. C.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;I. F.</span></blockquote>
+
+<span style="color: #555555;">Included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Old Age."&mdash;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,&mdash;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,&mdash;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&mdash;all pass him by:<br>
+Him even the slow-paced waggon leaves behind.<br><br>
+
+But deem not this Man useless.&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;that ever owned<br>
+The heaven-regarding eye and front sublime<br>
+Which man is born to&mdash;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>
+ &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 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,&mdash;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;&mdash;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.&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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!&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;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>.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#section27">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="27B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp;Wordsworth went to Racedown in 1795, when he was
+twenty-five years of age; and was at Alfoxden in his twenty-eighth
+year.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr27B">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="27C"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote C:</span></a> &nbsp; Compare Ovid's <i>Metamorphoses</i> I. 84:
+
+ <blockquote>Os homini sublime dedit, c&oelig;lumque 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;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.)&mdash;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.&mdash;Published 1798.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><span style="color: #663300;">If I recollect right, these verses were an overflowing from <i>The Old
+ Cumberland Beggar</i>.&mdash;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."&mdash;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.&mdash;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> &nbsp;
+<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> &nbsp;
+<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>&mdash;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> &nbsp;</a> The edition of 1800 has "lying," evidently a
+misprint.&mdash;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 &mdash;<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&mdash;Pleasures of the pedestrian Traveller&mdash;Author crosses France to
+the Alps&mdash;Present state of the Grande Chartreuse&mdash;Lake of Como&mdash;Time,
+Sunset&mdash;Same Scene, Twilight&mdash;Same Scene, Morning, it's Voluptuous
+Character; Old Man and Forest Cottage Music&mdash;River Tusa&mdash;Via Mala and
+Grison Gypsey. Valley of Sckellenen-thal&mdash;Lake of Uri, Stormy
+Sunset&mdash;Chapel of William Tell&mdash;force of Local Emotion&mdash;Chamois
+Chaser&mdash;View of the higher Alps&mdash;Manner of Life of a Swiss Mountaineer
+interspersed with views of the higher Alps&mdash;Golden Age of the Alps&mdash;Life
+and Views continued&mdash;Ranz des Vaches famous Swiss Air&mdash;Abbey of
+Einsiedlen and it's Pilgrims&mdash;Valley of Chamouny&mdash;Mont Blanc&mdash;Slavery of
+Savoy&mdash;Influence of Liberty on Cottage Happiness&mdash;France&mdash;Wish for the
+extirpation of Slavery&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+
+&mdash;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&mdash;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?&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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,&mdash;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>
+
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;'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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;<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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;Oh pass and leave it there.<br><br>
+
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;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>
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+790<br>
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+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+795<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+800<br>
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+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+805<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+810<br>
+<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> &nbsp;All the notes to this reprint of the edition of 1793 are
+Wordsworth's own, as given in that edition.&mdash;Ed.<br>
+<a href="#fr29A">return to footnote mark</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="29B"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote B:</span></a> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+
+ <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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+
+ <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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; Optima quæque dies, etc.<br>
+<a href="#fr29Aa">return</a><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<a name="29Bb"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote Bb:</span></a> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;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> &nbsp; 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> &nbsp;
+
+ <blockquote> &mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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.&mdash;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>
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+Wordsworth, Edited by William Knight
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
+Edited by William Knight
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
+ Volume 1 of 8
+
+Author: (Edited by William Knight)
+
+Release Date: November 23, 2003 [EBook #10219]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETRY OF WORDSWORTH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Clytie Siddall and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE POETICAL WORKS
+
+ OF
+
+
+
+ WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
+
+
+
+
+
+ EDITED BY
+ WILLIAM KNIGHT
+
+
+ VOL. I
+
+
+ 1896
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+Extract from the Conclusion of a Poem, composed in Anticipation of
+ leaving School
+Written in very Early Youth
+An Evening Walk
+Lines written while Sailing in a Boat at Evening
+Remembrance of Collins
+Descriptive Sketches taken during a Pedestrian Tour among the Alps
+Guilt and Sorrow; or, Incidents upon Salisbury Plain
+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
+The Borderers
+The Reverie of Poor Susan
+1798
+A Night Piece
+We are Seven
+Anecdote for Fathers
+"A whirl-blast from behind the hill"
+The Thorn
+Goody Blake and Harry Gill
+Her Eyes are Wild
+Simon Lee, the Old Huntsman
+Lines written in Early Spring
+To my Sister
+Expostulation and Reply
+The Tables Turned
+The Complaint of a Forsaken Indian Woman
+The Last of the Flock
+The Idiot Boy
+The Old Cumberland Beggar
+Animal Tranquillity and Decay
+
+APPENDIX I.
+APPENDIX II.
+APPENDIX III.
+APPENDIX IV.
+APPENDIX V.
+APPENDIX VI.
+APPENDIX VII.
+APPENDIX VIII.
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+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 'Description of the Scenery of the Lakes in the North of England'.
+This edition was published by Mr. Paterson, Edinburgh, at intervals
+between the years 1882 and 1886: and it was followed in 1889 by a 'Life
+of Wordsworth', in three volumes, which was a continuation of the
+previous eight.
+
+The 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 'Memorials of Coleorton', and in 'The
+English Lake District as interpreted in the Poems of Wordsworth'--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 [1].
+'Errata' 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.
+
+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:
+
+FIRST, 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.
+
+SECOND, the changes of text made by Wordsworth in the successive
+editions of his Poems, are given in footnotes, with the dates of the
+changes.
+
+THIRD, 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.
+
+FOURTH, 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.
+
+FIFTH, 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.
+
+SIXTH, 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.
+
+SEVENTH, 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.
+
+EIGHTH, a new Life of the Poet is given.
+
+These features of the edition of 1882-6 are preserved in that of 1896,
+and the following are added:
+
+FIRST, 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.
+
+SECOND, 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, the Fenwick notes, and the Editor's in
+different type, and in type of a decreasing size; but the idea occurred
+to me too late, i. e. after the first volume had been passed for press.
+
+THIRD, 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.
+
+FOURTH, 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.
+
+FIFTH, 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 'Memoirs' of his uncle, in
+'The Diary, Reminiscences, and Correspondence of Henry Crabb Robinson',
+in the 'Memorials of Coleorton' and my own 'Life' of the Poet, in the
+'Prose Works', in the 'Transactions of the Wordsworth Society', in the
+'Letters of Charles Lamb', in the 'Memorials of Thomas De Quincey', 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.
+
+SIXTH, 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, 'Le General Michel Beaupuy' (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, 'William Wordsworth: sein Leben, seine Werke, seine
+Zeitgenossen', (1893), has similarly helped me in reference to German
+criticism.
+
+SEVENTH, As the Poet's Letters, and his sister's Journals, will appear
+in earlier volumes, the new 'Life of Wordsworth' will be much shorter
+than that which was published in 1889, in three volumes 8vo. It will not
+exceed a single volume.
+
+EIGHTH, 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 'Life'. 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.
+
+
+ Vol. PORTRAITS / VIGNETTES
+
+
+THE POEMS.
+
+ I. W. Wordsworth, by W. Shuter. Cockermouth.
+
+ II. " " by Robert Hancock. Dame Tyson's Cottage, Hawkshead.
+
+ III. " " by Edward Nash. Room in St. John's College, Cambridge.
+
+ IV. " " by Richard Carruthers. Racedown, Dorsetshire.
+
+ V. " " by William Boxall. Alfoxden, Somersetshire.
+
+ VI. " " by Henry William Pickersgill. Goslar.
+
+ VII. " " by Margaret Gillies. Dove Cottage.
+
+VIII. " " by Benjamin R. Haydon. The Rock of Names, Thirlmere.
+
+
+THE PROSE WORKS.
+
+ IX. " " by Henry Inman. Gallow Hill, Yorkshire.
+
+ X. " " by Margaret Gillies. Coleorton Hall, Leicestershire.
+
+
+THE JOURNALS.
+
+ XI. Dorothy Wordsworth, (Artist unknown). Allan Bank, Grasmere.
+
+ XII. Mary Wordsworth, by Margaret Gillies. Rydal Mount.
+
+
+CORRESPONDENCE.
+
+XIII. Dora Wordsworth, by Margaret Gillies. Bolton Abbey.
+
+ XIV. W. Wordsworth, by Edward C. Wyon. Blea Tarn.
+
+ XV. " " by Thomas Woolner. Peele Castle.
+
+
+THE LIFE.
+
+ XVI. " " by Frederick Thrupp. Grasmere Church and Churchyard.
+
+ " " by Samuel Laurence.
+
+ " " by Benjamin R. Haydon.
+
+
+All the etchings will be prepared by H. Manesse. The portraits, with
+many others, will be described in detail in a subsequent volume.
+
+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 italicised in this edition.
+
+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, 'Apology for the French
+Revolution'. 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 'Essays on Epitaphs'.
+
+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, 'or in any subsequent issue' 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 'The Thrush at Twilight', and 'The Thrush at Dawn'.
+Possibly Wordsworth would have approved of both of those titles: but,
+that they are not his, should have been indicated.
+
+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 'when' the title was Wordsworth's, and 'when' 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 'Margaret, or the Ruined
+Cottage', 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 'The Excursion'--written, it is true, in these early
+years,--but only issued as part of the latter poem, first published in
+1814.
+
+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 'sub judice'. 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 'The Excursion', 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.
+
+On the other hand, it would be quite out of place, in a note to the
+famous passage in the 4th book of 'The Excursion', beginning
+
+ ... I have seen
+ A curious child applying to his ear
+
+to enter on a discussion as to the extent of Wordsworth's debt--if
+any--to the author of 'Gebir'. It is quite sufficient to print the
+relative passage from Landor's poem at the foot of the page.
+
+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 'addenda', 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 'The Excursion', containing a reprint
+of the 'Essay upon Epitaphs'--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 'The Excursion'.
+
+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," 'The Prelude', 'The White Doe
+of Rylstone', 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."
+
+I have the greatest admiration for the work which Professor Dowden has
+done in his edition of Wordsworth; but the 'plan' 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
+'critically' 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 'addenda' they will be read by very few, and studied by
+fewer.
+
+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
+'must' 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, 'have' taken that
+trouble, or that future readers of the Aldine edition will take it.
+
+To refer, somewhat more in detail, to the features of this edition.
+
+
+FIRST. As to the 'Chronological Order' of the Poems.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Then, there is the case of two Poems following each other, in
+Wordsworth's own arrangement, by natural affinity; such as the 'Epistle
+to Sir George Beaumont', written in 1811, which in almost all existing
+editions is followed by the Poem written in 1841, and entitled, 'Upon
+perusing the foregoing Epistle thirty years after its composition'; or,
+the dedication to 'The White Doe of Rylstone', 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 'it was Wordsworth's own'; 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.
+
+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, 'Guilt and Sorrow; or,
+Incidents upon Salisbury Plain'--written in the years 1791-94--was not
+published 'in extenso' till 1842. The tragedy of 'The Borderers',
+composed in 1795-96, was also first published in 1842. 'The
+Prelude'--"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.
+
+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 'The
+Old Cumberland Beggar' 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 'Rural Architecture' 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 'The Reverie of
+Poor Susan', which had also appeared in "Lyrical Ballads," 1800.
+
+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 'Alice Fell' (1802), 'Beggars' (1802), 'To
+a Sky-Lark' (1805), and 'Resolution and Independence' (1802).
+
+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.
+
+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 'Inscription for the spot where the
+Hermitage stood on St. Herbert's Island, Derwentwater', 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.
+
+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.
+
+This chronological method of arrangement, however, has its limits. It is
+not possible always to adopt it: nor is it invariably 'necessary', 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 'Address to Kilchurn Castle' 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, 'The Highland Girl' 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 'Glen Almain'--although written afterwards at Rydal--retains its
+published place in the memorial group. Again the 'Departure from the
+Vale of Grasmere, August 1803', 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.
+
+On the same principle I have followed the 'Address to the Scholars of
+the Village School of----', by its natural sequel--'By the Side of the
+Grave some Years after', the date of the composition of which is
+unknown: and the 'Epistle to Sir George Beaumont' (1811) is followed by
+the later Lines, to which Wordsworth gave the most prosaic title--he was
+often infelicitous in his titles--'Upon perusing the foregoing Epistle
+thirty years after its composition'. A like remark applies to the poem
+'Beggars', which is followed by its own 'Sequel', although the order of
+date is disturbed; while all the "Epitaphs," translated from Chiabrera,
+are printed together.
+
+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." These, 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; [2] 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:
+
+ O mountain Stream! the Shepherd and his Cot,
+
+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 think 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. [3] 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 'or suggested'
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Poems which were several years in process of composition, having been
+laid aside, and taken up repeatedly; 'e.g. The Prelude', 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.
+
+There is one Poem which I have intentionally placed out of its
+chronological place, viz. the 'Ode, Intimations of Immortality from
+Recollections of Early Childhood'. 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; 'The
+Excursion' only following it, in a volume of its own. This was an
+arrangement made by Wordsworth, of set purpose, and steadily adhered
+to--the 'Ode' 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.
+
+Mr. Arnold's arrangement of the Poems, in his volume of Selections [4],
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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." Aubrey 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."
+[5] 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
+'The Horn of Egremont Castle' (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 'Ode' on
+Immortality among his "Epitaphs and Elegiac Poems"! As late as 27th
+September 1845, he wrote to Professor Henry Reed,
+
+ "Following your example" (i. e. 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 'primum mobile' 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."
+
+Could anything show more explicitly than this that Wordsworth was not
+perfectly satisfied with his own artificial groups? Professor 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.
+[6]
+
+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.
+
+
+SECOND The various Readings, or variations of text, 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 have 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. [7]
+
+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. The great public libraries of the country do
+not possess them all.[8] 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.
+
+The text which--after much consideration--I have resolved to place
+throughout, in the body of the work, is Wordsworth's own final 'textus
+receptus', i.e. the text of 1849-50, reproduced in the posthumous
+edition of 1857; [9] 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.
+
+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, 1st, the earliest text
+may be taken, or 2nd, the latest may be chosen, or 3rd, 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. A composite text, made up from two or more editions, would be
+inadmissible.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 'To a
+Skylark'--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.
+
+
+ Ethereal Minstrel! Pilgrim of the sky!
+ Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
+ Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye
+ Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?
+ Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,
+ Those quivering wings composed, that music still!
+
+ To the last point of vision, and beyond,
+ Mount, daring Warbler! that love-prompted strain,
+ ('Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond)
+ Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain:
+ Yet might'st thou seem, proud privilege! to sing
+ All independent of the leafy spring.
+
+ Leave to the Nightingale her shady wood;
+ A privacy of glorious light is thine;
+ Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
+ Of harmony, with rapture more divine;
+ Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
+ True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!
+
+
+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 'The Glowworm', of the edition of 1807,
+never republished; while 'The Waterfall and the Eglantine', and 'To the
+Spade of a Friend', were retained? To give one other illustration, where
+a score are possible. In the sonnet, belonging to the year 1807,
+beginning:
+
+ "Beloved Vale!" I said, "when I shall con,"
+
+we find, in the latest text, the lines--first adopted in 1827:
+
+ I stood, of simple shame the blushing Thrall;
+ So narrow seemed the brooks, the fields so small,
+
+while the early edition of 1807 contains the far happier lines:
+
+ To see the Trees, which I had thought so tall,
+ Mere dwarfs; the Brooks so narrow, Fields so small.
+
+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 'To the
+Cuckoo' (written in 1802) appeared in 1845, is an improvement on all its
+predecessors. I give the readings of 1807, 1815, 1820, 1827, and 1845.
+
+
+ While I am lying on the grass,
+ I hear thy restless shout:
+ From hill to hill it seems to pass,
+ About, and all about! 1807.
+
+ While I am lying on the grass,
+ Thy loud note smites my ear!--
+ From hill to hill it seems to pass,
+ At once far off and near! 1815.
+
+ While I am lying on the grass,
+ Thy loud note smites my ear!
+ It seems to fill the whole air's space,
+ At once far off and near. 1820.
+
+ While I am lying on the grass
+ Thy twofold shout I hear,
+ That seems to fill the whole air's space,
+ As loud far off as near. 1827.
+
+ While I am lying on the grass
+ Thy twofold shout I hear,
+ From hill to hill it seems to pass,
+ At once far off, and near. 1845.
+
+
+Similarly, in each of the three poems 'To the Daisy', composed in 1802,
+and in the 'Afterthought, to the Duddon', the alterations introduced
+into the latest editions were all improvements upon the early version.
+
+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.
+
+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 'The Prelude'.
+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.
+
+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. 'An Evening Walk' and 'Descriptive
+Sketches',--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 'Descriptive
+Sketches', 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." Nevertheless the earliest text of
+these 'Sketches' 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. [10] 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 'School
+Exercise written at Hawkshead' in the poet's fourteenth year, will be
+found in vol. viii. Passing over these juvenile efforts, there are
+poems--such as 'Guilt and Sorrow', 'Peter Bell', 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.
+
+It may 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." ('Memoirs of Wordsworth',
+vol. i. p. 174.) [11] 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."
+
+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 'The Female Vagrant', 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.
+
+A further reference to the 'Evening Walk' 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 'An Evening Walk',
+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 'verbatim' 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,
+
+ In these lone vales, if aught of faith may claim,
+ Thin silver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame;
+ When up the hills, as now, retreats the light,
+ Strange apparitions mock the village sight,
+
+is better than that finally adopted,
+
+ In these secluded vales, if village fame,
+ Confirmed by hoary hairs, belief may claim;
+ When up the hills, as now, retired the light,
+ Strange apparitions mocked the shepherd's sight.
+
+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.
+
+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, 'before' 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. The earlier readings then follow, in
+chronological order, with the year to which they belong; [12] 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.
+
+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 'Evening Walk' the following lines occur--
+
+ The dog, loud barking, 'mid the glittering rocks,
+ Hunts, where his master points, the intercepted flocks.
+
+And the footnote is as follows:
+
+ 1836.
+ That, barking busy 'mid the glittering rocks,
+ Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks; 1793.
+
+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.
+
+Again, in 'Simon Lee', the lines occur:
+
+ But what to them avails the land
+ Which he can till no longer?
+
+And the following are the footnotes:
+
+ 1845.
+ But what avails the land to them,
+ Which they can till no longer? 1798.
+
+ "But what," saith he, "avails the land,
+ Which I can till no longer? 1827.
+
+ But what avails it now, the land
+ Which he can till no longer? 1832.
+
+ 'Tis his, but what avails the land
+ Which he can till no longer? 1837.
+
+ The time, alas! is come when he
+ Can till the land no longer. 1840.
+
+ The time is also come when he
+ Can till the land no longer. C.
+
+
+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.
+
+The same thing is true of 'Descriptive Sketches'. 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.
+
+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 'Simon
+Lee', for example--it is always indicated.
+
+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.
+
+
+THIRD. In the present edition several suggested changes of text, 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:
+
+
+ "FOX GHYLL, AMBLESIDE, '4th October 1881'.
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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."
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+A copy of the 1814 (quarto) edition of 'The Excursion', 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.
+
+
+FOURTH. In the present edition all the Notes and Memoranda, explanatory
+of the Poems, which Wordsworth dictated to Miss Fenwick, 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 'Memoirs' 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 'The Prose Works of
+Wordsworth', 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
+'The Prose Works' 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.
+
+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.
+
+
+FIFTH. Topographical Notes, 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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. Of the 'Evening Walk'--written in his eighteenth year--he
+says that the plan of the poem
+
+ "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."[13]
+
+Again, he says of the 'Lines written while Sailing in a Boat at Evening':
+
+ "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"; [14]
+
+and of 'Guilt and Sorrow', he said,
+
+ "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." [15]
+
+In 'The Excursion' 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
+
+ "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. _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._ In every scene, many of the most brilliant details
+ are but accidental."
+
+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 'Evening Walk', 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.
+
+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 'The Excursion',--will admit that
+local commentary is an important aid to the understanding of Wordsworth.
+If to read the 'Yew Trees' in Borrowdale itself,
+
+ in mute repose
+ To lie, and listen to the mountain flood
+ Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves,
+
+to read 'The Brothers' 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 'The Prelude'? and who will fix the site of the pool in Rydal
+Upper Park, immortalised in the poem 'To M. H.'? 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 'The Prelude' 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 'The Excursion'; 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
+
+ the gleam,
+ The light that never was, on sea or land,
+ The consecration, and the Poet's dream.
+
+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.
+
+In this edition the topographical Notes usually follow the Poems to
+which they refer. But in the case of the longer Poems, such as 'The
+Prelude', 'The Excursion', 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.
+
+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 'authority' 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.
+
+
+SIXTH. Several Poems, and fragments of poems, hitherto unpublished--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.
+
+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.
+
+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 'Peter Bell' (1819) he put the following
+prefatory note to four sonnets, which had previously appeared in
+'Blackwood's Magazine', and which afterwards (1828) appeared in the
+'Poetical Album' of Alaric Watts, "The following Sonnets having lately
+appeared in Periodical Publications are here reprinted."
+
+Some of the poems (or fragments of poems), included in the 'addenda' 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. Even the Cambridge 'Installation Ode',
+which is so feeble, will be reprinted. [16] 'The Glowworm', which only
+appeared in the edition of 1807, will be republished in full. 'Andrew
+Jones',--also suppressed after appearing in "Lyrical Ballads" of 1800,
+1802, and 1805,--will be replaced, in like manner. The youthful 'School
+Exercise' written at Hawkshead, the translation from the 'Georgics' of
+Virgil, the poem addressed 'To the Queen' in 1846, will appear in their
+chronological place in vol. viii. There are also a translation of some
+French stanzas by Francis Wrangham on 'The Birth of Love'-a poem
+entitled 'The Eagle and the Dove', which was privately printed in a
+volume, consisting chiefly of French fragments, and called 'La petite
+Chouannerie, ou Historie d'un College Breton sous l'Empire'--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 truth is, as Sir Henry Taylor--himself a poet and critic of
+no mean order--remarked [17],
+
+ "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."
+
+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, "_Can these bones live_?" 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?
+
+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 great truth in what Mr. Arnold has lately said
+of Byron:
+
+ "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."
+ [18]
+
+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.
+
+It should also be noted that the fact of Wordsworth's having dictated to
+Miss Fenwick (so late as 1843) a stanza from 'The Convict' in his note
+to 'The Lament of Mary Queen of Scots' (1817), justifies the inclusion
+of the whole of that (suppressed) poem in such an edition as this.
+
+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
+'The Prelude' itself was a posthumous publication; and also that the
+fragmentary canto of 'The Recluse', 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:
+
+ Among all lovely things my Love had been,
+
+and of the sonnet on his 'Voyage down the Rhine', 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.
+
+Among the Poems which Wordsworth suppressed, in his final edition, is
+the Latin translation of 'The Somnambulist' by his son. This will be
+republished, more especially as it was included by Wordsworth himself in
+the second edition of his "Yarrow Revisited."
+
+It may be well to mention the 'repetitions' which are inevitable in this
+edition,
+
+(1) As already explained, those fragments of 'The Recluse'--which were
+issued in all the earlier volumes, and afterwards incorporated in 'The
+Prelude'--are printed as they originally appeared.
+
+(2) Short Notes are extracted from Dorothy Wordsworth's 'Recollections
+of a Tour made in Scotland' (1803), which illustrate the Poems composed
+during that Tour, while the whole text of that Tour will be printed in
+full in subsequent volumes.
+
+(3) Other fragments, including the lines beginning,
+
+ Wisdom and Spirit of the universe,
+
+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.
+
+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. When I have not done
+so, the reason will be obvious; viz. either the structure, or the
+brevity, of the poem. [19]
+
+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 his Chronological Table, Mr. Dowden adopts
+the word "composed"; but, in his edition of the Poems, he has made use
+of the term" written." [20]
+
+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:
+
+ Fresh springs of green boxwood, not six months before.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+William Knight.
+
+
+
+[Footnote 1: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote 2: See 'Memoirs of William Wordsworth', ii. pp. 113, 114.]
+
+
+[Footnote 3: It is however different with the fragments which were
+published in all the editions issued in the poet's lifetime, and
+afterwards in 'The Prelude', such as the lines on "the immortal boy" of
+Windermere. These are printed in their chronological place, and also in
+the posthumous poem.]
+
+
+[Footnote 4: 'Poems of Wordsworth selected and arranged by Matthew
+Arnold'. London: Macmillan and Co.]
+
+
+[Footnote 5: See the 'Life of Sir W. Rowan Hamilton', vol. ii. pp, 132,
+135.]
+
+
+[Footnote 6: See the Preface to the American edition of 1837.]
+
+
+[Footnote 7: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote 8: The collection in the British Museum, and those in all the
+University Libraries of the country, are incomplete.]
+
+
+[Footnote 9: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote 10: 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 'The
+Excursion'--was the quarry where Jeffrey or Gifford might have found
+abundant material for criticism.]
+
+
+[Footnote 11: It is unfortunate that the 'Memoirs' do not tell us to
+what poem the remark applies, or to whom the letter containing it was
+addressed.]
+
+
+[Footnote 12: It is important to note that the printed text in several
+of the editions is occasionally cancelled in the list of 'errata', 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
+'errata' list. In this edition there were two such lists, one of them
+very brief. But the cancelled words in these 'errata' lists, must be
+taken into account, in determining the text of each edition.]
+
+
+[Footnote 13: I. F. note. See vol. i. p. 5.]
+
+
+[Footnote 14: I. F. note. See vol. i. p. 32.]
+
+
+[Footnote 15: Advertisement. See vol. i. p. 78.]
+
+
+[Footnote 16: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote 17: In a letter to the writer in 1882.]
+
+
+[Footnote 18: 'The Poetry of Byron, chosen and arranged by Matthew
+Arnold'. London: Macmillan and Co.]
+
+
+[Footnote 19: It may not be too trivial a fact to mention that
+Wordsworth numbered the lines of his earliest publication, 'An Evening
+Walk, in 1793.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote 20: 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.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+EXTRACT FROM THE CONCLUSION OF A POEM, COMPOSED IN ANTICIPATION OF
+LEAVING SCHOOL
+
+Composed 1786.--Published 1815
+
+This poem was placed by Wordsworth among his "Juvenile Pieces." The
+following note was prefixed to that Series, from 1820 to 1832:
+
+ "Of the Poems in this class, "THE EVENING WALK" and "DESCRIPTIVE
+ SKETCHES" 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."
+
+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.
+
+ "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.'"
+
+In the editions of 1845 and 1849, Wordsworth called his "Juvenile
+Pieces," "Poems written in Youth."--Ed.
+
+ ["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.]
+
+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.
+
+In the "Autobiographical Memoranda," dictated by Wordsworth at Rydal
+Mount in November 1847, he says, " .... 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]
+
+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,
+
+ while, in that shade
+ Loitering, I watched the golden beams of light
+ Flung from the setting sun, as they reposed
+ In silent beauty on the naked ridge
+ Of a high eastern hill--thus flowed my thoughts
+ In a pure stream of words fresh from the heart:
+
+Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Dear native regions, [B] I foretell,
+ From what I feel at this farewell,
+ That, wheresoe'er my steps may [1] tend,
+ And whensoe'er my course shall end,
+
+ If in that hour a single tie [2] 5
+ Survive of local sympathy,
+ My soul will cast the backward view,
+ The longing look alone on you.
+
+ Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest
+ Far in the regions of the west, 10
+ Though to the vale no parting beam
+ Be given, not one memorial gleam, [3]
+ A lingering light he fondly throws [4]
+ On the dear hills [5] where first he rose.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Footnote A: See the 'Memoirs of William Wordsworth', by Christopher
+Wordsworth (1851), vol. i. pp. 10-31.--ED]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Compare the 'Ode, composed in January 1816', stanza
+v.--Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1832.
+
+ ....shall 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ That, when the close of life draws near,
+ And I must quit this earthly sphere,
+ If in that hour a tender tie MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1845.
+
+ Thus, when the Sun, prepared for rest,
+ Hath gained the precincts of the West,
+ Though his departing radiance fail
+ To illuminate the hollow Vale, 1815.
+
+ Thus, from the precincts of the West,
+ The Sun, when sinking down to rest, 1832.
+
+ ... while sinking ... 1836.
+
+ Hath reached the precincts ... MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1815.
+
+ A lingering lustre fondly throws 1832.
+
+The edition of 1845 reverts to the reading of 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1815.
+
+ On the dear mountain-tops ... 1820.
+
+The edition of 1845 returns to the text of 1815.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+WRITTEN IN VERY EARLY YOUTH
+
+
+Composed 1786. [A]--Published 1807 [B]
+
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
+ The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
+ The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
+ Is cropping audibly [1] his later meal: [C]
+ Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal 5
+ O'er vale, and mountain, and the starless sky.
+ Now, in this blank of things, a harmony,
+ Home-felt, and home-created, comes [2] to heal
+ That grief for which the senses still supply
+ Fresh food; for only then, when memory 10
+ Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain
+ Those busy cares that would allay my pain;
+ Oh! leave me to myself, nor let me feel
+ The officious touch that makes me droop again.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Footnote A: The date of the composition of this fragment is quite
+unknown.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: But previously, in 'The Morning Post', Feb. 13, 1802.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: 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.
+
+ Whose stealing pace and lengthened shade we fear,
+ Till torn-up forage in his teeth we hear.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827.
+
+ Is up, and cropping yet ... 1807.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1838.
+
+ ... seems ... 1807.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+AN EVENING WALK
+
+ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY
+
+
+Composed 1787-9. [A]--Published 1793
+
+
+ [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:
+
+ Waving his hat, the shepherd, from the vale,
+ Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,--
+ The dog, loud barking, 'mid the glittering rocks,
+ Hunts, where his master points, the intercepted flocks.
+
+ 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:
+
+ And, fronting the bright west, yon oak entwines
+ Its darkening boughs and leaves, in stronger lines.
+
+ 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. It 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'. [B] 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.]
+
+The title of this poem, as first published in 1793, was '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'.
+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.
+
+ "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."
+
+To this, Wordsworth added, in 1836,
+
+ "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.'"
+
+In May 1794 Wordsworth wrote to his friend Mathews,
+
+ "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 _could_ do
+ something."
+
+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.
+
+ 'General Sketch of the Lakes--Author's regret of his Youth which was
+ passed amongst them--Short description of Noon--Cascade--Noon-tide
+ Retreat--Precipice and sloping Lights--Face of Nature as the Sun
+ declines--Mountain-farm, and the
+ Cock--Slate-quarry--Sunset--Superstition of the Country connected with
+ that moment--Swans--Female Beggar--Twilight-sounds--Western
+ Lights--Spirits--Night--Moonlight--Hope--Night-sounds--Conclusion'.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Far from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
+ Through bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral cove;
+ Where Derwent rests, and listens to the roar
+ That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore; [1]
+ Where peace to Grasmere's lonely island leads, 5
+ To willowy hedge-rows, and to emerald meads;
+ Leads to her bridge, rude church, and cottaged grounds,
+ Her rocky sheepwalks, and her woodland bounds;
+ Where, undisturbed by winds, Winander [C] sleeps [2]
+ 'Mid clustering isles, and holly-sprinkled steeps; 10
+ Where twilight glens endear my Esthwaite's shore,
+ And memory of departed pleasures, more.
+
+ Fair scenes, erewhile, I taught, a happy child,
+ The echoes of your rocks my carols wild:
+ The spirit sought not then, in cherished sadness, 15
+ A cloudy substitute for failing gladness. [3]
+ In youth's keen [4] eye the livelong day was bright,
+ The sun at morning, and the stars at night,
+ Alike, when first the bittern's hollow bill
+ Was heard, or woodcocks [D] roamed the moonlight hill. [5] 20
+
+ In thoughtless gaiety I coursed the plain, [6]
+ And hope itself was all I knew of pain;
+ For then, the inexperienced heart would beat [7]
+ At times, while young Content forsook her seat,
+ And wild Impatience, pointing upward, showed, 25
+ Through passes yet unreached, a brighter road. [8]
+ Alas! the idle tale of man is found
+ Depicted in the dial's moral round;
+ Hope with reflection blends her social rays [9]
+ To gild the total tablet of his days; 30
+ Yet still, the sport of some malignant power,
+ He knows but from its shade the present hour.
+ [10]
+ But why, ungrateful, dwell on idle pain?
+ To show what pleasures yet to me remain, [11]
+ Say, will my Friend, with unreluctant ear, [12] 35
+ The history of a poet's evening hear?
+
+ When, in the south, the wan noon, brooding still,
+ Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill,
+ And shades of deep-embattled clouds were seen, 40
+ Spotting the northern cliffs with lights between;
+ When crowding cattle, checked by rails that make
+ A fence far stretched into the shallow lake,
+ Lashed the cool water with their restless tails,
+ Or from high points of rock looked out for fanning gales;[13] 45
+ When school-boys stretched their length upon the green;
+ And round the broad-spread oak, a glimmering scene,
+ In the rough fern-clad park, the herded deer [14]
+ Shook the still-twinkling tail and glancing ear;
+ When horses in the sunburnt intake [E] stood, 50
+ And vainly eyed below the tempting flood,
+ Or tracked the passenger, in mute distress,
+ With forward neck the closing gate to press--[15]
+ Then, while I wandered where the huddling rill
+ Brightens with water-breaks the hollow ghyll [F] [16] 55
+ As by enchantment, an obscure retreat [17]
+ Opened at once, and stayed my devious feet.
+ While thick above the rill the branches close,
+ In rocky basin its wild waves repose,
+ Inverted shrubs, [G] and moss of gloomy green, 60
+ Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between;
+ And its own twilight softens the whole scene, [H]
+ Save where aloft the subtle sunbeams shine
+ On withered briars that o'er the crags recline; [18]
+ Save where, with sparkling foam, a small cascade, 65
+ Illumines, from within, the leafy shade; [19]
+ Beyond, along the vista of the brook,
+ Where antique roots its bustling course [20] o'erlook,
+ The eye reposes on a secret bridge [J]
+ Half grey, half shagged with ivy to its ridge; 70
+ There, bending o'er the stream, the listless swain
+ Lingers behind his disappearing wain. [21]
+ --Did Sabine grace adorn my living line,
+ Blandusia's praise, wild stream, should yield to thine!
+ Never shall ruthless minister of death 75
+ 'Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath;
+ No goblets shall, for thee, be crowned with flowers,
+ No kid with piteous outcry thrill thy bowers;
+ The mystic shapes that by thy margin rove
+ A more benignant sacrifice approve-- 80
+ A mind, that, in a calm angelic mood
+ Of happy wisdom, meditating good,
+ Beholds, of all from her high powers required,
+ Much done, and much designed, and more desired,--
+ Harmonious thoughts, a soul by truth refined, 85
+ Entire affection for all human kind.
+
+ Dear Brook, [22] farewell! To-morrow's noon again
+ Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain;
+ But now the sun has gained his western road,
+ And eve's mild hour invites my steps abroad. 90
+
+ While, near the midway cliff, the silvered kite
+ In many a whistling circle wheels her flight;
+ Slant watery lights, from parting clouds, apace
+ Travel along the precipice's base;
+ Cheering its naked waste of scattered stone, 95
+ By lichens grey, and scanty moss, o'ergrown;
+ Where scarce the foxglove peeps, or [23] thistle's beard;
+ And restless [24] stone-chat, all day long, is heard.
+
+ How pleasant, as the sun declines, to view [25]
+ The spacious landscape change in form and hue! 100
+ Here, vanish, as in mist, before a flood
+ Of bright obscurity, hill, lawn, and wood;
+ There, objects, by the searching beams betrayed,
+ Come forth, and here retire in purple shade;
+ Even the white stems of birch, the cottage white, 105
+ Soften their glare before the mellow light;
+ The skiffs, at anchor where with umbrage wide
+ Yon chestnuts half the latticed boat-house hide,
+ Shed from their sides, that face the sun's slant beam,
+ Strong flakes of radiance on the tremulous stream: 110
+ Raised by yon travelling flock, a dusty cloud
+ Mounts from the road, and spreads its moving shroud;
+ The shepherd, all involved in wreaths of fire,
+ Now shows a shadowy speck, and now is lost entire.
+
+ Into a gradual calm the breezes [26] sink, [27] 115
+ A blue rim borders all the lake's still brink;
+ There doth the twinkling aspen's foliage sleep,
+ And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deep: [28]
+ And now, on every side, the surface breaks
+ Into blue spots, and slowly lengthening streaks; 120
+ Here, plots of sparkling water tremble bright
+ With thousand thousand twinkling points of light;
+ There, waves that, hardly weltering, die away,
+ Tip their smooth ridges with a softer ray;
+ And now the whole wide lake in deep repose 125
+ Is hushed, and like a burnished mirror glows, [29]
+ Save where, along the shady western marge,
+ Coasts, with industrious oar, the charcoal barge. [30]
+
+ Their panniered train a group of potters goad,
+ Winding from side to side up the steep road; 130
+ The peasant, from yon cliff of fearful edge
+ Shot, down the headlong path darts with his sledge; [31]
+ Bright beams the lonely mountain-horse illume
+ Feeding 'mid purple heath, "green rings," [K] and broom;
+ While the sharp slope the slackened team confounds, 135
+ Downward [L] the ponderous timber-wain resounds;
+ [32] In foamy breaks the rill, with merry song,
+ Dashed o'er [33] the rough rock, lightly leaps along;
+ From lonesome chapel at the mountain's feet,
+ Three humble bells their rustic chime repeat; 140
+ Sounds from the water-side the hammered boat;
+ And 'blasted' quarry thunders, heard remote!
+
+ Even here, amid the sweep of endless woods,
+ Blue pomp of lakes, high cliffs and falling floods,
+ Not undelightful are the simplest charms, 145
+ Found by the grassy [34] door of mountain-farms.
+
+ Sweetly ferocious, [M] round his native walks,
+ Pride of [35] his sister-wives, the monarch stalks;
+ Spur-clad his nervous feet, and firm his tread;
+ A crest of purple tops the warrior's head. [36] 150
+ Bright sparks his black and rolling [37] eye-ball hurls
+ Afar, his tail he closes and unfurls;
+ [38] On tiptoe reared, he strains [39] his clarion throat,
+ Threatened by faintly-answering farms remote:
+ Again with his shrill voice the mountain rings, 155
+ While, flapped with conscious pride, resound his wings! [40]
+
+ Where, mixed with graceful birch, the sombrous pine
+ And yew-tree [41] o'er the silver rocks recline;
+ I love to mark the quarry's moving trains,
+ Dwarf panniered steeds, and men, and numerous wains: 160
+ How busy all [42] the enormous hive within,
+ While Echo dallies with its [43] various din!
+ Some (hear you not their chisels' clinking sound?) [44]
+ Toil, small as pigmies in the gulf profound;
+ Some, dim between the lofty [45] cliffs descried, 165
+ O'erwalk the slender [46] plank from side to side;
+ These, by the pale-blue rocks that ceaseless ring,
+ In airy baskets hanging, work and sing.[47]
+
+ Just where a cloud above the mountain rears [48]
+ An [49] edge all flame, the broadening sun appears; 170
+ A long blue bar its aegis orb divides,
+ And breaks the spreading of its golden tides;
+ And now that orb has touched the purple steep
+ Whose softened image penetrates the deep.[50]
+
+ 'Cross the calm lake's blue shades the cliffs aspire, 175
+ With towers and woods, a "prospect all on fire"; [N]
+ While [51] coves and secret hollows, through a ray
+ Of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray.
+ Each slip of lawn the broken rocks between
+ Shines in the light with more than earthly green: [52] 180
+ Deep yellow beams the scattered stems [53] illume,
+ Far in the level forest's central gloom:
+ Waving his hat, the shepherd, from [54] the vale,
+ Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,--
+ The dog, loud barking, 'mid the glittering rocks, 185
+ Hunts, where his master points, the intercepted flocks. [55]
+ Where oaks o'erhang the road the radiance shoots
+ On tawny earth, wild weeds, and twisted roots;
+ The druid-stones a brightened ring unfold; [56]
+ And all the babbling brooks are liquid gold; 190
+ Sunk to a curve, the day-star lessens still,
+ Gives one bright glance, and drops [57] behind the hill. [P]
+
+ In these secluded vales, if village fame,
+ Confirmed by hoary hairs, belief may claim;
+ When up the hills, as now, retired the light, 195
+ Strange apparitions mocked the shepherd's sight. [58]
+
+ The form appears of one that spurs his steed
+ Midway along the hill with desperate speed; [59]
+ Unhurt pursues his lengthened flight, while all
+ Attend, at every stretch, his headlong fall. 200
+ Anon, appears a brave, a gorgeous show
+ Of horsemen-shadows moving to and fro; [60]
+ At intervals imperial banners stream, [61]
+ And now the van reflects the solar beam; [62]
+ The rear through iron brown betrays a sullen gleam. 205
+ While silent stands the admiring crowd below,
+ Silent the visionary warriors go,
+ Winding in ordered pomp their upward way [Q]
+ Till the last banner of their [63] long array
+ Has disappeared, and every trace is fled 210
+ Of splendour--save the beacon's spiry head
+ Tipt with eve's latest gleam of burning red. [64]
+
+ Now, while the solemn evening shadows sail,
+ On slowly-waving pinions, [65] down the vale;
+ And, fronting the bright west, yon oak entwines 215
+ Its darkening boughs and leaves, in stronger lines; [66]
+ 'Tis pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray [67]
+ Where, winding on along some secret bay, [68]
+ The swan uplifts his chest, and backward flings
+ His neck, a varying arch, between his towering wings: 220
+ The eye that marks the gliding creature sees
+ How graceful, pride can be, and how majestic, ease. [69]
+
+ While tender cares and mild domestic loves
+ With furtive watch pursue her as she moves,
+ The female with a meeker charm succeeds, 225
+ And her brown little-ones around her leads,
+ Nibbling the water lilies as they pass,
+ Or playing wanton with the floating grass.
+ She, in a mother's care, her beauty's pride
+ Forgetting, calls the wearied to her side; [70] 230
+ Alternately they mount her back, and rest
+ Close by her mantling wings' embraces prest. [R]
+
+ Long may they float upon this flood serene;
+ Theirs be these holms untrodden, still, and green,
+ Where leafy shades fence off the blustering gale, 235
+ And breathes in peace the lily of the vale![71]
+ Yon isle, which feels not even the milk-maid's feet,
+ Yet hears her song, "by distance made more sweet," [72] [S]
+ Yon isle conceals their home, their hut-like bower;
+ Green water-rushes overspread the floor; [73] 240
+ Long grass and willows form the woven wall,
+ And swings above the roof the poplar tall.
+ Thence issuing often with unwieldy stalk,
+ They crush with broad black feet their flowery walk; [74]
+ Or, from the neighbouring water, hear at morn [75] 245
+ The hound, the horse's tread, and mellow horn;
+ Involve their serpent-necks in changeful rings,
+ Rolled wantonly between their slippery wings,
+ Or, starting up with noise and rude delight,
+ Force half upon the wave their cumbrous flight. [76] 250
+
+ Fair Swan! by all a mother's joys caressed,
+ Haply some wretch has eyed, and called thee blessed;
+ When with her infants, from some shady seat
+ By the lake's edge, she rose--to face the noontide heat;
+ Or taught their limbs along the dusty road 255
+ A few short steps to totter with their load. [77]
+
+ I see her now, denied to lay her head,
+ On cold blue nights, in hut or straw-built shed,
+ Turn to a silent smile their sleepy cry,
+ By pointing to the gliding moon [78] on high. 260
+
+ --[79] When low-hung clouds each star of summer hide,
+ And fireless are the valleys far and wide,
+ Where the brook brawls along the public [80] road
+ Dark with bat-haunted ashes stretching broad,
+ [81] Oft has she taught them on her lap to lay 265
+ The shining glow-worm; or, in heedless play,
+ Toss it from hand to hand, disquieted;
+ While others, not unseen, are free to shed
+ Green unmolested light upon their mossy bed. [82]
+
+ Oh! when the sleety showers her path assail, 270
+ And like a torrent roars the headstrong gale; [83]
+ No more her breath can thaw their fingers cold,
+ Their frozen arms her neck no more can fold;
+ [84] Weak roof a cowering form two babes to shield,
+ And faint the fire a dying heart can yield! 275
+ Press the sad kiss, fond mother! vainly fears
+ Thy flooded cheek to wet them with its tears;
+ [85] No tears can chill them, and no bosom warms,
+ Thy breast their death-bed, coffined in thine arms!
+
+ Sweet are the sounds that mingle from afar, 280
+ Heard by calm lakes, as peeps the folding star,
+ Where the duck dabbles 'mid the rustling sedge,
+ And feeding pike starts from the water's edge,
+ Or the swan stirs the reeds, his neck and bill
+ Wetting, that drip upon the water still; 285
+ And heron, as resounds the trodden shore,
+ Shoots upward, darting his long neck before.
+ [86]
+ Now, with religious awe, the farewell light
+ Blends with the solemn colouring of night; [87]
+ 'Mid groves of clouds that crest the mountain's brow, 290
+ And round the west's proud lodge their shadows throw,
+ Like Una [T] shining on her gloomy way,
+ The half-seen form of Twilight roams astray;
+ Shedding, through paly loop-holes mild and small,
+ Gleams that upon the lake's still bosom fall; [88] 295
+ [89] Soft o'er the surface creep those lustres pale
+ Tracking the motions of the fitful gale. [90]
+ With restless interchange at once the bright
+ Wins on the shade, the shade upon the light.
+ No favoured eye was e'er allowed to gaze 300
+ On lovelier spectacle in faery days;
+ When gentle Spirits urged a sportive chase,
+ Brushing with lucid wands the water's face;
+ While music, stealing round the glimmering deeps,
+ Charmed the tall circle of the enchanted steeps. 305
+ --The lights are vanished from the watery plains:
+ No wreck of all the pageantry remains.
+ Unheeded night has overcome the vales:
+ On the dark earth the wearied vision fails;
+ The latest lingerer of the forest train, 310
+ The lone black fir, forsakes the faded plain;
+ Last evening sight, the cottage smoke, no more,
+ Lost in the thickened darkness, glimmers hoar;
+ And, towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,
+ Like a black wall, the mountain-steeps appear. [91] 315
+
+ --Now o'er the soothed accordant heart we feel
+ A sympathetic twilight slowly steal,
+ And ever, as we fondly muse, we find
+ The soft gloom deepening on the tranquil mind.
+ Stay! pensive, sadly-pleasing visions, stay! 320
+ Ah no! as fades the vale, they fade away:
+ Yet still the tender, vacant gloom remains;
+ Still the cold cheek its shuddering tear retains.
+
+ The bird, who ceased, with fading light, to thread
+ Silent the hedge or steamy rivulet's bed, [92] 325
+ From his grey re-appearing tower shall soon
+ Salute with gladsome note the rising moon,
+ While with a hoary light she frosts the ground,
+ And pours a deeper blue to Aether's bound;
+ Pleased, as she moves, her pomp of clouds to fold 330
+ In robes of azure, fleecy-white, and gold. [93]
+
+ Above yon eastern hill, [94] where darkness broods
+ O'er all its vanished dells, and lawns, and woods;
+ Where but a mass of shade the sight can trace,
+ Even now she shows, half-veiled, her lovely face: [95] 335
+ Across [96] the gloomy valley flings her light,
+ Far to the western slopes with hamlets white;
+ And gives, where woods the chequered upland strew,
+ To the green corn of summer, autumn's hue.
+
+ Thus Hope, first pouring from her blessed horn 340
+ Her dawn, far lovelier than the moon's own morn,
+ 'Till higher mounted, strives in vain to cheer
+ The weary hills, impervious, blackening near;
+ Yet does she still, undaunted, throw the while
+ On darling spots remote her tempting smile. 345
+
+ Even now she decks for me a distant scene,
+ (For dark and broad the gulf of time between)
+ Gilding that cottage with her fondest ray,
+ (Sole bourn, sole wish, sole object of my way; 350
+ How fair its lawns and sheltering [97] woods appear!
+ How sweet its streamlet murmurs in mine ear!)
+ Where we, my Friend, to happy [98] days shall rise,
+ 'Till our small share of hardly-paining sighs
+ (For sighs will ever trouble human breath) 355
+ Creep hushed into the tranquil breast of death.
+
+ But now the clear bright Moon her zenith gains,
+ And, rimy without speck, extend the plains:
+ The deepest cleft the mountain's front displays [99]
+ Scarce hides a shadow from her searching rays; 360
+ From the dark-blue faint silvery threads divide
+ The hills, while gleams below the azure tide;
+ Time softly treads; throughout the landscape breathes
+ A peace enlivened, not disturbed, by wreaths
+ Of charcoal-smoke, that o'er the fallen wood, 365
+ Steal down the hill, and spread along the flood.[100]
+
+ The song of mountain-streams, unheard by day,
+ Now hardly heard, beguiles my homeward way. [U]
+ Air listens, like the sleeping water, still,
+ To catch the spiritual music of the hill, [101] 370
+ Broke only by the slow clock tolling deep,
+ Or shout that wakes the ferry-man from sleep,
+ The echoed hoof nearing the distant shore,
+ The boat's first motion--made with dashing oar; [102]
+ Sound of closed gate, across the water borne, 375
+ Hurrying the timid [103] hare through rustling corn;
+ The sportive outcry of the mocking owl; [104]
+ And at long intervals the mill-dog's howl;
+ The distant forge's swinging thump profound;
+ Or yell, in the deep woods, of lonely hound. 380
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE ABOVE POEM:
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1836.
+
+ His wizard course where hoary Derwent takes
+ Thro' craggs, and forest glooms, and opening lakes,
+ Staying his silent waves, to hear the roar
+ That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore:
+ Where silver rocks the savage prospect chear
+ Of giant yews that frown on Rydale's mere; 1793.
+
+ Where Derwent stops his course to hear the roar
+ That stuns the tremulous cliffs ... 1827.
+
+(Omitting two lines of the 1793 text quoted above.)]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ Where, bosom'd deep, the shy Winander peeps 1793.
+
+ Where, deep embosom'd, shy Winander peeps 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ Fair scenes! with other eyes, than once, I gaze,
+ The ever-varying charm your round displays,
+ Than when, ere-while, I taught, "a happy child,"
+ The echoes of your rocks my carols wild:
+ Then did no ebb of chearfulness demand
+ Sad tides of joy from Melancholy's hand; 1793.
+
+ Upon the varying charm your round displays, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... wild ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... stars of night,
+ Alike, when first the vales the bittern fills,
+ Or the first woodcocks roam'd the moonlight hills. 1793.
+
+ Alike, when heard the bittern's hollow bill,
+ Or the first woodcocks roam'd the moonlight hill. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1820.
+
+ Return Delights! with whom my road begun,
+ When Life rear'd laughing up her morning sun;
+ When Transport kiss'd away my april tear,
+ "Rocking as in a dream the tedious year";
+ When link'd with thoughtless Mirth I cours'd the plain, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1836.
+
+ For then, ev'n then, the little heart would beat 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1836.
+
+ And wild Impatience, panting upward, show'd
+ Where tipp'd with gold the mountain-summits glow'd. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1836.
+
+ With Hope Reflexion blends her social rays 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1820.
+
+ While, Memory at my side, I wander here,
+ Starts at the simplest sight th' unbidden tear,
+ A form discover'd at the well-known seat,
+ A spot, that angles at the riv'let's feet,
+ The ray the cot of morning trav'ling nigh,
+ And sail that glides the well-known alders by.
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1820.
+
+ To shew her yet some joys to me remain, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... with soft affection's ear, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... with lights between;
+ Gazing the tempting shades to them deny'd,
+ When stood the shorten'd herds amid' the tide,
+ Where, from the barren wall's unshelter'd end,
+ Long rails into the shallow lake extend; 1793.
+
+ When, at the barren wall's unsheltered end,
+ Where long rails far into the lake extend,
+ Crowded the shortened herds, and beat the tides
+ With their quick tails, and lash'd their speckled sides; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1836.
+
+ And round the humming elm, a glimmering scene!
+ In the brown park, in flocks, the troubl'd deer 1793.
+
+ ... in herds, ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1820.
+
+ When horses in the wall-girt intake stood,
+ Unshaded, eying far below, the flood,
+ Crouded behind the swain, in mute distress,
+ With forward neck the closing gate to press;
+ And long, with wistful gaze, his walk survey'd,
+ 'Till dipp'd his pathway in the river shade; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1845.
+
+ --Then Quiet led me up the huddling rill,
+ Bright'ning with water-breaks the sombrous gill; 1793.
+
+ --Then, while I wandered up the huddling rill
+ Brightening with water-breaks the sombrous ghyll, 1820.
+
+ Then, while I wandered where the huddling rill
+ Brightens with water-breaks the sombrous ghyll, 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1820.
+
+ To where, while thick above the branches close,
+ In dark-brown bason its wild waves repose,
+ Inverted shrubs, and moss of darkest green,
+ Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between;
+ Save that, atop, the subtle sunbeams shine,
+ On wither'd briars that o'er the craggs recline;
+ Sole light admitted here, a small cascade,
+ Illumes with sparkling foam the twilight shade.
+ Beyond, along the visto of the brook,
+ Where antique roots its bustling path o'erlook,
+ The eye reposes on a secret bridge
+ Half grey, half shagg'd with ivy to its ridge.
+ --Sweet rill, farewel! ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1845.
+
+ But see aloft the subtle sunbeams shine,
+ On withered briars that o'er the crags recline;
+ Thus beautiful! as if the sight displayed,
+ By its own sparkling foam that small cascade;
+ Inverted shrubs, with moss of gloomy green
+ Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between. C.
+
+ Inverted shrubs with pale wood weeds between
+ Cling from the moss-grown rocks, a darksome green,
+ Save where aloft the subtle sunbeams shine
+ And its own twilight softens the whole scene.
+ And sparkling as it foams a small cascade
+ Illumines from within the impervious shade
+ Below, right in the vista of the brook,
+ Where antique roots, etc. MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1845.
+
+ Sole light admitted here, a small cascade,
+ Illumes with sparkling foam the impervious shade; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... path ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1845.
+
+ Whence hangs, in the cool shade, the listless swain
+ Lingering behind his disappearing wain. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 22:
+
+1845.
+
+ --Sweet rill, ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... and ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 24:
+
+1845.
+
+ And desert ... 1793]
+
+
+[Variant 25:
+
+1820.
+
+ How pleasant, as the yellowing sun declines,
+ And with long rays and shades the landscape shines;
+ To mark the birches' stems all golden light,
+ That lit the dark slant woods with silvery white!
+ The willow's weeping trees, that twinkling hoar,
+ Glanc'd oft upturn'd along the breezy shore,
+ Low bending o'er the colour'd water, fold
+ Their moveless boughs and leaves like threads of gold;
+ The skiffs with naked masts at anchor laid,
+ Before the boat-house peeping thro' the shade;
+ Th' unwearied glance of woodman's echo'd stroke;
+ And curling from the trees the cottage smoke.
+ Their pannier'd train ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 26:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... zephyrs ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 27: This stanza was added in the edition of 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 28:
+
+1845.
+
+This couplet was added in 1845.]
+
+
+[Variant 29:
+
+1845.
+
+ And now the universal tides repose,
+ And, brightly blue, the burnished mirror glows, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 30:
+
+1845.
+
+ The sails are dropped, the poplar's foliage sleeps,
+ And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deeps.
+
+This couplet followed l. 127 from 1820 to 1843.]
+
+
+[Variant 31:
+
+1820
+
+ Shot, down the headlong pathway darts his sledge; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 32:
+
+1820.
+
+ Beside their sheltering [i] cross of wall, the flock
+ Feeds on in light, nor thinks of winter's shock;
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 33:
+
+1820.
+
+ Dashed down ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 34:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... verdant ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 35:
+
+1820.
+
+ Gazed by ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 36:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... his warrior head. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 37:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... haggard ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 38:
+
+1836.
+
+ Whose state, like pine-trees, waving to and fro,
+ Droops, and o'er canopies his regal brow,
+
+This couplet was inserted in the editions 1793 to 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 39:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... blows ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 40: This couplet was first printed in the edition of 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 41:
+
+1836.
+
+ Bright'ning the cliffs between where sombrous pine,
+ And yew-trees ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 42:
+
+1836.
+
+ How busy the enormous hive within, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 43:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... with the ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 44:
+
+1836.
+
+ Some hardly heard their chissel's clinking sound, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 45:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... th' aereal ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 46:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... viewless ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 47:
+
+1836.
+
+ Glad from their airy baskets hang and sing. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 48:
+
+1836.
+
+ Hung o'er a cloud, above the steep that rears 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 49:
+
+1820.
+
+ It's ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 50:
+
+1845.
+
+ And now it touches on the purple steep
+ That flings his shadow on the pictur'd deep. 1793.
+
+ That flings its image ... 1832.
+
+ And now the sun has touched the purple steep
+ Whose softened image penetrates the deep. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 51:
+
+1836.
+
+ The coves ... 1793]
+
+
+[Variant 52:
+
+1836.
+
+ The gilded turn arrays in richer green
+ Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between; 1793.
+
+ ... invests with richer green 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 53:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... boles ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 54:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... in ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 55:
+
+1836.
+
+ That, barking busy 'mid the glittering rocks,
+ Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 56:
+
+1845.
+
+ The Druid stones [ii] their lighted fane unfold, 1793.
+
+ ... a burnished ring unfold; 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 57:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... sinks ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 58:
+
+1845.
+
+ In these lone vales, if aught of faith may claim,
+ Thin silver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame;
+ When up the hills, as now, retreats the light,
+ Strange apparitions mock the village sight. 1793.
+
+ In these secluded vales, if village fame,
+ Confirmed by silver hairs, belief may claim;
+ When up the hills, as now, retired the light,
+ Strange apparitions mocked the gazer's sight. 1820.
+
+ ... shepherd's sight. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 59:
+
+1836.
+
+ A desperate form appears, that spurs his steed,
+ Along the midway cliffs with violent speed; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 60:
+
+1836.
+
+ Anon, in order mounts a gorgeous show
+ Of horsemen shadows winding to and fro; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 61: This line was added in 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 62:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... is gilt with evening's beam, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 63:
+
+1849.
+
+ ... of the ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 64:
+
+1836.
+
+ Lost gradual o'er the heights in pomp they go,
+ While silent stands th' admiring vale below;
+ Till, but the lonely beacon all is fled,
+ That tips with eve's last gleam his spiry head. 1793.
+
+ Till, save the lonely beacon, ... 1820.
+
+In the edition of 1836 the seven lines of the printed
+text--205-211--replaced these four lines of the editions 1793-1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 65:
+
+1836.
+
+ On red slow-waving pinions ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 66:
+
+1820.
+
+ And, fronting the bright west in stronger lines,
+ The oak its dark'ning boughs and foliage twines, 1793.
+
+The edition of 1815 omitted this couplet. It was restored in its final
+form in the edition of 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 67:
+
+1836.
+
+ I love beside the glowing lake to stray, 1793.
+
+ How pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 68:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... to stray,
+ Where winds the road along the secret bay;
+ By rills that tumble down the woody steeps,
+ And run in transport to the dimpling deeps;
+ Along the "wild meand'ring shore" to view,
+ Obsequious Grace the winding swan pursue. 1793.
+
+ ... a secret bay; 1813.
+
+ ... meandering shore" ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 69:
+
+1836.
+
+ He swells his lifted chest, and backward flings
+ His bridling neck between his tow'ring wings;
+ Stately, and burning in his pride, divides
+ And glorying looks around, the silent tides:
+ On as he floats, the silver'd waters glow,
+ Proud of the varying arch and moveless form of snow. 1793.
+
+ ... his towering wings;
+ In all the majesty of ease divides, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 70:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... her beauty's pride
+ Forgets, unweary'd watching every side,
+ She calls them near, and with affection sweet
+ Alternately relieves their weary feet; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 71:
+
+1836.
+
+ Long may ye roam these hermit waves that sleep,
+ In birch-besprinkl'd cliffs embosom'd deep;
+ These fairy holms untrodden, still, and green,
+ Whose shades protect the hidden wave serene;
+ Whence fragrance scents the water's desart gale,
+ The violet, and the [iii] lily of the vale; 1793.
+
+ Long may ye float upon these floods serene;
+ Yours be these holms untrodden, still, and green,
+ Whose leafy shades fence off the blustering gale,
+ Where breathes in peace the lily of the vale. 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 72:
+
+1820.
+
+ Where, tho' her far-off twilight ditty steal,
+ They not the trip of harmless milkmaid feel. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 73:
+
+1836.
+
+ Yon tuft conceals your home, your cottage bow'r.
+ Fresh water rushes strew the verdant floor; 1793.
+
+ Yon isle conceals ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 74:
+
+1836.
+
+ Thence issuing oft, unwieldly as ye stalk,
+ Ye crush with broad black feet your flow'ry walk; 1793.
+
+ Thence issuing often with unwieldly stalk,
+ With broad black feet ye crush your flow'ry walk; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 75:
+
+1820.
+
+ Safe from your door ye hear at breezy morn, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 76:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... and mellow horn;
+ At peace inverted your lithe necks ye lave,
+ With the green bottom strewing o'er the wave;
+ No ruder sound your desart haunts invades,
+ Than waters dashing wild, or rocking shades.
+ Ye ne'er, like hapless human wanderers, throw
+ Your young on winter's winding sheet of snow. 1793.
+
+ ... and mellow horn;
+ Involve your serpent necks in changeful rings,
+ Rolled wantonly between your slippery wings,
+ Or, starting up with noise and rude delight,
+ Force half upon the wave your cumbrous flight. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 77:
+
+1836.
+
+ Fair Swan! by all a mother's joys caress'd,
+ Haply some wretch has ey'd, and call'd thee bless'd;
+ Who faint, and beat by summer's breathless ray,
+ Hath dragg'd her babes along this weary way;
+ While arrowy fire extorting feverish groans
+ Shot stinging through her stark o'er labour'd bones.
+ --With backward gaze, lock'd joints, and step of pain,
+ Her seat scarce left, she strives, alas! in vain,
+ To teach their limbs along the burning road
+ A few short steps to totter with their load,
+ Shakes her numb arm that slumbers with its weight,
+ And eyes through tears the mountain's shadeless height;
+ And bids her soldier come her woes to share,
+ Asleep on Bunker's [iv] charnel hill afar;
+ For hope's deserted well why wistful look?
+ Chok'd is the pathway, and the pitcher broke. 1793.
+
+In 1793 this passage occupied the place of the six lines of the final
+text (250-255).
+
+
+ ... and called thee bless'd;
+ The whilst upon some sultry summer's day
+ She dragged her babes along this weary way;
+ Or taught their limbs along the burning road
+ A few short steps to totter with their load. 1820.
+
+ The while ... 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 78:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... a shooting star ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 79:
+
+1845.
+
+ I hear, while in the forest depth he sees,
+ The Moon's fix'd gaze between the opening trees,
+ In broken sounds her elder grief demand,
+ And skyward lift, like one that prays, his hand,
+ If, in that country, where he dwells afar,
+ His father views that good, that kindly star;
+ --Ah me! all light is mute amid the gloom,
+ The interlunar cavern of the tomb. 1793-1832.
+
+ In broken sounds her elder child demand,
+ While toward the sky he lifts his pale bright hand, 1836.
+
+ --Alas! all light ... 1836.
+
+Those eight lines were withdrawn in 1845.]
+
+
+[Variant 80:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... painful ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 81:
+
+1820.
+
+ The distant clock forgot, and chilling dew,
+ Pleas'd thro' the dusk their breaking smiles to view,
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 82:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... on her lap to play
+ Delighted, with the glow-worm's harmless ray
+ Toss'd light from hand to hand; while on the ground
+ Small circles of green radiance gleam around. 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 83:
+
+1836.
+
+ Oh! when the bitter showers her path assail,
+ And roars between the hills the torrent gale, 1793.
+
+ ... sleety showers ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 84:
+
+1827.
+
+ Scarce heard, their chattering lips her shoulder chill,
+ And her cold back their colder bosoms thrill;
+ All blind she wilders o'er the lightless heath,
+ Led by Fear's cold wet hand, and dogg'd by Death;
+ Death, as she turns her neck the kiss to seek,
+ Breaks off the dreadful kiss with angry shriek.
+ Snatch'd from her shoulder with despairing moan,
+ She clasps them at that dim-seen roofless stone.--
+ "Now ruthless Tempest launch thy deadliest dart!
+ Fall fires--but let us perish heart to heart." 1793.
+
+The first, third, and fourth of these couplets were omitted
+from the edition of 1820. The whole passage was withdrawn in
+1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 85:
+
+1820.
+
+ Soon shall the Light'ning hold before thy head
+ His torch, and shew them slumbering in their bed,
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 86:
+
+1820.
+
+ While, by the scene compos'd, the breast subsides,
+ Nought wakens or disturbs it's tranquil tides;
+ Nought but the char that for the may-fly leaps,
+ And breaks the mirror of the circling deeps;
+ Or clock, that blind against the wanderer born
+ Drops at his feet, and stills his droning horn.
+ --The whistling swain that plods his ringing way
+ Where the slow waggon winds along the bay;
+ The sugh [v] of swallow flocks that twittering sweep,
+ The solemn curfew swinging long and deep;
+ The talking boat that moves with pensive sound,
+ Or drops his anchor down with plunge profound;
+ Of boys that bathe remote the faint uproar,
+ And restless piper wearying out the shore;
+ These all to swell the village murmurs blend,
+ That soften'd from the water-head descend.
+ While in sweet cadence rising small and still
+ The far-off minstrels of the haunted hill,
+ As the last bleating of the fold expires,
+ Tune in the mountain dells their water lyres.
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 87:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... of the night; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 88:
+
+1815.
+
+ Thence, from three paly loopholes mild and small,
+ Slow lights upon the lake's still bosom fall, 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 89:
+
+1827.
+
+ Beyond the mountain's giant reach that hides
+ In deep determin'd gloom his subject tides.
+ --Mid the dark steeps repose the shadowy streams,
+ As touch'd with dawning moonlight's hoary gleams,
+ Long streaks of fairy light the wave illume
+ With bordering lines of intervening gloom, 1793.
+
+The second and third of these couplets were cancelled in the edition of
+1815, and the whole passage was withdrawn in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 90:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soft o'er the surface creep the lustres pale
+ Tracking with silvering path the changeful gale. 1793.
+
+ ... those lustres pale
+ Tracking the fitful motions of the gale. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 91:
+
+1815.
+
+ --'Tis restless magic all; at once the bright [vi]
+ Breaks on the shade, the shade upon the light,
+ Fair Spirits are abroad; in sportive chase
+ Brushing with lucid wands the water's face,
+ While music stealing round the glimmering deeps
+ Charms the tall circle of th' enchanted steeps.
+ --As thro' th' astonished woods the notes ascend,
+ The mountain streams their rising song suspend;
+ Below Eve's listening Star, the sheep walk stills
+ It's drowsy tinklings on th' attentive hills;
+ The milkmaid stops her ballad, and her pail
+ Stays it's low murmur in th' unbreathing vale;
+ No night-duck clamours for his wilder'd mate,
+ Aw'd, while below the Genii hold their state.
+ --The pomp is fled, and mute the wondrous strains,
+ No wrack of all the pageant scene remains,
+ [vii] So vanish those fair Shadows, human Joys,
+ But Death alone their vain regret destroys.
+ Unheeded Night has overcome the vales,
+ On the dark earth the baffl'd vision fails,
+ If peep between the clouds a star on high,
+ There turns for glad repose the weary eye;
+ The latest lingerer of the forest train,
+ The lone-black fir, forsakes the faded plain;
+ Last evening sight, the cottage smoke no more,
+ Lost in the deepen'd darkness, glimmers hoar;
+ High towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,
+ Like a black wall, the mountain steeps appear,
+ Thence red from different heights with restless gleam
+ Small cottage lights across the water stream,
+ Nought else of man or life remains behind
+ To call from other worlds the wilder'd mind,
+ Till pours the wakeful bird her solemn strains
+ [viii] Heard by the night-calm of the watry plains.
+ --No purple prospects now the mind employ
+ Glowing in golden sunset tints of joy,
+ But o'er the sooth'd ...
+
+Only in the edition of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 92:
+
+1836.
+
+ The bird, with fading light who ceas'd to thread
+ Silent the hedge or steaming rivulet's bed, 1793.
+
+ The bird, who ceased, with fading light, to thread 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 93:
+
+1836.
+
+ Salute with boding note the rising moon,
+ Frosting with hoary light the pearly ground,
+ And pouring deeper blue to Aether's bound;
+ Rejoic'd her solemn pomp of clouds to fold
+ In robes of azure, fleecy white, and gold,
+ While rose and poppy, as the glow-worm fades,
+ Checquer with paler red the thicket shades. 1793.
+
+
+The last two lines occur only in the edition of 1793.
+
+ And pleased her solemn pomp of clouds to fold 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 94:
+
+1836.
+
+ Now o'er the eastern hill, ... 1793.
+
+ See, o'er ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 95:
+
+1836.
+
+ She lifts in silence up her lovely face; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 96:
+
+1836.
+
+ Above ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 97:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... silvery ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 98:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... golden ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 99:
+
+1836.
+
+ The deepest dell the mountain's breast displays, 1793.
+
+ ... the mountain's front ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 100:
+
+1836.
+
+ The scene is waken'd, yet its peace unbroke,
+ By silver'd wreaths of quiet charcoal smoke,
+ That, o'er the ruins of the fallen wood,
+ Steal down the hills, and spread along the flood. 1793.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 101:
+
+1836.
+
+ All air is, as the sleeping water, still,
+ List'ning th' aereal music of the hill, 1793.
+
+ Air listens, as the sleeping water still,
+ To catch the spiritual music of the hill, 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 102:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soon follow'd by his hollow-parting oar,
+ And echo'd hoof approaching the far shore; 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 103:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... the feeding ... 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 104:
+
+1836.
+
+ The tremulous sob of the complaining owl; 1793.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES ON VARIANTS (Sub-Footnotes)
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: 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.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote ii: 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.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote iii: The lily of the valley is found in great abundance in
+the smaller islands of Winandermere.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote iv: 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.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote v: 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' 'Cottar's Saturday
+Night'.--W. W. 1793.
+
+The line is in stanza ii., l. 1:
+
+ November chill blaws loud, wi' angry sugh.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote vi: This long passage occupies, in the edition of 1793,
+the place of lines 297-314 in the final text given above.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote vii:
+
+ "So break those glittering shadows, human joys"
+
+(YOUNG).--W. W. 1793.
+
+The line occurs 'Night V, The Complaint', l. 1042, or l. 27 from the
+end.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote viii:
+
+ "Charming the night-calm with her powerful song."
+
+A line of one of our older poets.--W. W. 1793.
+
+This line I have been unable to discover, but see Webster and Dekker in
+'Westward Hoe', iv. c.
+
+ "Charms with her excellent voice an awful silence through all this
+ building."
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836
+(p. 1).--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: These lines are only applicable to the middle part of that
+lake.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote E: The word 'intake' is local, and signifies a
+mountain-inclosure.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote F: Gill is also, I believe, a term confined to this country.
+Glen, gill, and dingle, have the same meaning.--W. W. 1793.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Footnote G: Compare Dr. John Brown:
+
+ Not a passing breeze
+ Sigh'd to the grove, which in the midnight air
+ Stood motionless, and in the peaceful floods
+ Inverted hung.
+
+and see note A to page 31.--Ed. [Footnote U of this poem]]
+
+
+[Footnote H: This line was first inserted in the edition of 1845. In the
+following line, the edition of 1793 has
+
+ Save that, atop, the subtle ...
+
+Subsequent editions previous to 1845 have
+
+ Save that aloft ...
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote J: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote K:
+
+ "Vivid rings of green."
+
+Greenwood's Poem on Shooting.--W. W. 1793.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Footnote L:
+
+ "Down the rough slope the pondrous waggon rings."
+
+BEATTIE.--W. W.
+
+1793. See 'The Minstrel', stanza xxxix., l. 4.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote M:
+
+"Dolcemente feroce."
+
+TASSO. In this description of the cock, I remembered a spirited one of
+the same animal in the 'L'Agriculture ou Les Georgiques Francoises', of
+M. Rossuet.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote N: I am unable to trace this quotation.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote P: From Thomson: see Scott's 'Critical Essays'.--W. W. 1793.
+
+It is difficult to know to what Wordsworth here alludes, but compare
+'The Seasons', "Summer," l. 1467.
+
+ and now a golden curve,
+ Gives one bright glance, then total disappears.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote Q: See a description of an appearance of this kind in Clark's
+'Survey of the Lakes', accompanied with vouchers of its veracity, that
+may amuse the reader.--W. W. 1793.
+
+The passage in Clark's folio volume, 'A Survey of the Lakes', etc.,
+which suggested to Wordsworth the above lines in the 'Evening Walk', 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
+
+ "Southen-fell side, as seen on the 25th of June 1744 by William
+ Lancaster of Blakehills, and a farm servant, David Strichet:
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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."
+
+This interesting optical illusion--which suggests the wonderful island
+in the Atlantic, seen from the isles of Aran near Galway, alluded to in
+the 'Chorographical description of West, or H-Ier-Connaught', 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,
+
+ "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."
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote R: This is a fact of which I have been an eye-witness.--W. W.
+1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote S: The quotation is from Collins' 'The Passions', l. 60.
+Compare 'Personal Talk', l. 26.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote T: Alluding to this passage of Spenser:
+
+ ... Her angel face
+ As the great eye of Heaven shined bright,
+ And made a sunshine in that shady place. W. W. 1793.
+
+This passage is in 'The Fairy Queen', book I. canto iii. stanza 4.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote U: Compare Dr. John Brown:
+
+ But the soft murmur of swift-gushing rills,
+ Forth issuing from the mountain's distant steep
+ (Unheard till now, and now scarce heard), proclaim'd
+ All things at rest.
+
+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 'Journal'. Wordsworth himself quotes the lines given in this
+footnote in the first section of his 'Guide through the District of the
+Lakes'.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+LINES WRITTEN WHILE SAILING IN A BOAT AT EVENING
+
+
+Composed 1789.--Published 1798
+
+
+ [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, 'Remembrance of Collins', formed one piece; but,
+ upon the recommendation of Coleridge, the three last stanzas were
+ separated from the other.--I. F.]
+
+The title of the poem in 1798, when it consisted of five stanzas, was
+'Lines written near Richmond, upon the Thames, at Evening'. When, in the
+edition of 1800, it was divided, the title of the first part was, 'Lines
+written when sailing in a Boat at Evening'; that of the second part was
+'Lines written near Richmond upon the Thames'.
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ How richly glows the water's breast
+ Before us, tinged with evening hues, [1]
+ While, facing thus the crimson west,
+ The boat her silent course [2] pursues!
+ And see how dark the backward stream! 5
+ A little moment past so smiling!
+ And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam,
+ Some other loiterers [3] beguiling.
+
+ Such views the youthful Bard allure;
+ But, heedless of the following gloom, 10
+ He deems their colours shall endure
+ Till peace go with him to the tomb.
+ --And let him nurse his fond deceit,
+ And what if he must die in sorrow!
+ Who would not cherish dreams so sweet, 15
+ Though grief and pain may come to-morrow?
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1815.
+
+ How rich the wave, in front, imprest
+ With evening-twilight's summer hues, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1802.
+
+ ... path ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... loiterer ... 1798.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+REMEMBRANCE OF COLLINS
+
+
+COMPOSED UPON THE THAMES NEAR RICHMOND [A]
+
+
+Composed 1789.--Published 1798
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ Glide gently, thus for ever glide,[B]
+ O Thames! that other bards may see
+ As lovely visions by thy side
+ As now, fair river! come to me.
+ O glide, fair stream! for ever so, 5
+ Thy quiet soul on all bestowing,
+ Till all our minds for ever flow
+ As thy deep waters now are flowing.
+
+ Vain thought!--Yet be as now thou art,
+ That in thy waters may be seen 10
+ The image of a poet's heart,
+ How bright, how solemn, how serene!
+ Such as did once the Poet bless, [1]
+ Who murmuring here a later [C] ditty, [2]
+ Could find no refuge from distress 15
+ But in the milder grief of pity.
+
+ Now let us, as we float along, [3]
+ For _him_ [4] suspend the dashing oar; [D]
+ And pray that never child of song
+ May know that Poet's sorrows more. [5] 20
+ How calm! how still! the only sound,
+ The dripping of the oar suspended!
+ --The evening darkness gathers round
+ By virtue's holiest Powers attended.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1800.
+
+ Such heart did once the poet bless, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ Who, pouring here a _later_ [i] ditty, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1802.
+
+ Remembrance, as we glide along, 1798.
+
+ ... float ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1802.
+
+ For him ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1802.
+
+ May know his freezing sorrows more. 1798.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: The italics only occur in the editions of 1798 and
+1800.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES TO THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: The title in the editions 1802-1815 was 'Remembrance of
+Collins, written upon the Thames near Richmond'.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Compare the 'After-thought' to "The River Duddon. A Series
+of Sonnets":
+
+ Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: Collins's 'Ode on the Death of Thomson', 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: Compare Collins's 'Ode on the Death of Thomson', 'The Scene
+on the Thames near Richmond':
+
+ Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore
+ When Thames in summer wreaths is drest.
+ And oft suspend the dashing oar
+ To bid his gentle spirit rest.
+
+As Mr. Dowden suggests, the _him_ 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.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES TAKEN DURING A PEDESTRIAN TOUR AMONG THE ALPS
+
+
+Composed 1791-2. [A]--Published 1793
+
+
+ TO THE REV. ROBERT JONES, FELLOW OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE
+
+ DEAR SIR, [B]--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 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. [C]
+
+ 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!
+
+ 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.
+
+ 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
+
+ I am, dear Sir,
+ Most sincerely yours,
+ W. WORDSWORTH.
+
+ LONDON, 1793.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+As the original text of the 'Descriptive Sketches' is printed in
+Appendix I. (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.
+
+'Descriptive Sketches' was ranked among the "Juvenile Pieces" from 1815
+onwards: but in 1836 it was put in a class by itself along with the
+'Female Vagrant'. [D]--Ed.
+
+'Happiness (if she had been to be found on earth) among 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; its voluptuous
+Character; Old man and forest-cottage music--River Tusa--Via Mala and
+Grison Gipsy--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 its
+pilgrims--Valley of Chamouny--Mont Blanc--Slavery of Savoy--Influence of
+liberty on cottage-happiness--France--Wish for the Extirpation of
+slavery--Conclusion'.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Were there, below, a spot of holy ground
+ Where from distress a refuge might be found,
+ And solitude prepare the soul for heaven;
+ Sure, nature's God that spot to man had given [1]
+ Where falls the purple morning far and wide 5
+ In flakes of light upon the mountain-side;
+ Where with loud voice the power of water shakes [2]
+ The leafy wood, or sleeps in quiet lakes.
+
+ Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
+ Who at the call of summer quits his home, 10
+ And plods through some wide realm o'er vale and height,
+ Though seeking only holiday delight; [3]
+ At least, not owning to himself an aim
+ To which the sage would give a prouder name. [4]
+ No gains too cheaply earned his fancy cloy, 15
+ Though every passing zephyr whispers joy;
+ Brisk toil, alternating with ready ease,
+ Feeds the clear current of his sympathies. [5]
+ For him sod-seats the cottage-door adorn;
+ And peeps the far-off spire, his evening bourn! 20
+ Dear is the forest frowning o'er his head,
+ And dear the velvet green-sward to his tread: [6]
+ Moves there a cloud o'er mid-day's flaming eye?
+ Upward he looks--"and calls it luxury:" [E]
+ Kind Nature's charities his steps attend; 25
+ In every babbling brook he finds a friend;
+ While [7] chastening thoughts of sweetest use, bestowed
+ By wisdom, moralise his pensive road.
+ Host of his welcome inn, the noon-tide bower,
+ To his spare meal he calls the passing poor; 30
+ He views the sun uplift his golden fire,
+ Or sink, with heart alive like Memnon's lyre; [F]
+ Blesses the moon that comes with kindly ray,
+ To light him shaken by his rugged way. [8]
+ Back from his sight no bashful children steal; 35
+ He sits a brother at the cottage-meal; [9]
+ His humble looks no shy restraint impart;
+ Around him plays at will the virgin heart.
+ While unsuspended wheels the village dance,
+ The maidens eye him with enquiring glance, 40
+ Much wondering by what fit of crazing care,
+ Or desperate love, bewildered, he came there. [10]
+
+ A hope, that prudence could not then approve,
+ That clung to Nature with a truant's love,
+ O'er Gallia's wastes of corn my footsteps led; 45
+ Her files of road-elms, high above my head
+ In long-drawn vista, rustling in the breeze;
+ Or where her pathways straggle as they please
+ By lonely farms and secret villages.
+ But lo! the Alps ascending white in air, [11] 50
+ Toy with the sun and glitter from afar.
+
+ And now, emerging from the forest's gloom,
+ I greet thee, Chartreuse, while I mourn thy doom.
+ Whither is fled that Power whose frown severe
+ Awed sober Reason till she crouched in fear? [12] 55
+ _That_ Silence, once in deathlike fetters bound,
+ Chains that were loosened only by the sound
+ Of holy rites chanted in measured round? [13]
+
+ --The voice of blasphemy the fane alarms,
+ The cloister startles at the gleam of arms. [14] 60
+ The [15] thundering tube the aged angler hears, [G]
+ Bent o'er the groaning flood that sweeps away his tears. [16]
+ Cloud-piercing pine-trees nod their troubled heads, [17]
+ Spires, rocks, and lawns a browner night o'erspreads;
+ Strong terror checks the female peasant's sighs, 65
+ And start the astonished shades at female eyes.
+ From Bruno's forest screams the affrighted jay,
+ And slow the insulted eagle wheels away.
+ A viewless flight of laughing Demons mock
+ The Cross, by angels planted [H] on the aerial rock. [18] 70
+ The "parting Genius" [J] sighs with hollow breath
+ Along the mystic streams of Life and Death.[K]
+ Swelling the outcry dull, that long resounds
+ Portentous through her old woods' trackless bounds,
+ Vallombre, [L] 'mid her falling fanes deplores 75
+ For ever broke, the sabbath of her bowers.
+
+ More pleased, my foot the hidden margin roves
+ Of Como, bosomed deep in chestnut groves.
+ No meadows thrown between, the giddy steeps
+ Tower, bare or sylvan, from the narrow deeps. 80
+ --To towns, whose shades of no rude noise [19] complain,
+ From ringing team apart [20] and grating wain--
+ To flat-roofed towns, that touch the water's bound,
+ Or lurk in woody sunless glens profound,
+ Or, from the bending rocks, obtrusive cling, 85
+ And o'er the whitened wave their shadows fling--
+ The pathway leads, as round the steeps it twines; [21]
+ And Silence loves its purple roof of vines.
+ The loitering traveller [22] hence, at evening, sees
+ From rock-hewn steps the sail between the trees; 90
+ Or marks, 'mid opening cliffs, fair dark-eyed maids
+ Tend the small harvest of their garden glades;
+ Or stops the solemn mountain-shades to view
+ Stretch o'er the pictured mirror broad and blue,
+ And track the yellow lights from steep to steep, 95
+ As up the opposing hills they slowly creep. [23]
+ Aloft, here, half a village shines, arrayed
+ In golden light; [24] half hides itself in shade:
+ While, from amid the darkened roofs, the spire,
+ Restlessly flashing, seems to mount like fire: [25] 100
+ There, all unshaded, blazing forests throw
+ Rich golden verdure on the lake [26] below.
+ Slow glides the sail along the illumined shore,
+ And steals into the shade the lazy oar;
+ Soft bosoms breathe around contagious sighs, 105
+ And amorous music on the water dies.
+
+ How blest, delicious scene! the eye that greets
+ Thy open beauties, or thy lone retreats;
+ Beholds the unwearied sweep of wood that scales
+ Thy cliffs; the endless waters of thy vales; [27] 110
+ Thy lowly cots that sprinkle all the shore, [28]
+ Each with its [29] household boat beside the door;
+ [30] Thy torrents shooting from the clear-blue sky;
+ Thy towns, that cleave, like swallows' nests, on high; [31]
+ That glimmer hoar in eve's last light descried 115
+ Dim from the twilight water's shaggy side,
+ Whence lutes and voices down the enchanted woods
+ Steal, and compose the oar-forgotten floods;
+ [32]--Thy lake, that, streaked or dappled, blue or grey,
+ 'Mid smoking woods gleams hid from morning's ray [33] 120
+ Slow-travelling down the western hills, to' enfold [34]
+ Its green-tinged margin in a blaze of gold;
+ Thy glittering steeples, whence the matin bell
+ Calls forth the woodman from his desert cell,
+ And quickens the blithe sound of oars that pass 125
+ Along the steaming lake, to early mass. [35]
+ But now farewell to each and all--adieu
+ To every charm, and last and chief to you, [36]
+ Ye lovely maidens that in noontide shade
+ Rest near your little plots of wheaten glade; [37] 130
+ To all that binds [38] the soul in powerless trance,
+ Lip-dewing song, and ringlet-tossing dance;
+ Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume
+ The sylvan cabin's lute-enlivened gloom.
+ --Alas! the very murmur of the streams 135
+ Breathes o'er the failing soul voluptuous dreams,
+ While Slavery, forcing the sunk mind to dwell
+ On joys that might disgrace the captive's cell,
+ Her shameless timbrel shakes on Como's marge,
+ And lures [39] from bay to bay the vocal barge. 140
+
+ Yet are thy softer arts with power indued
+ To soothe and cheer the poor man's solitude.
+ By silent cottage-doors, the peasant's home
+ Left vacant for the day, I loved to roam. [40]
+ But once I pierced the mazes of a wood 145
+ In which a cabin undeserted stood; [41]
+ There an old man an olden measure scanned
+ On a rude viol touched with withered hand. [42]
+ As lambs or fawns in April clustering lie [43]
+ Under a hoary oak's thin canopy, 150
+ Stretched at his feet, with stedfast upward eye,
+ His children's children listened to the sound; [44]
+ --A Hermit with his family around!
+
+ But let us hence; for fair Locarno smiles
+ Embowered in walnut slopes and citron isles: 155
+ Or seek at eve the banks of Tusa's stream,
+ Where, [45] 'mid dim towers and woods, her [M] waters gleam.
+ From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire
+ The dull-red steeps, and, darkening still, aspire
+ To where afar rich orange lustres glow 160
+ Round undistinguished clouds, and rocks, and snow:
+ Or, led where Via Mala's chasms confine
+ The indignant waters of the infant Rhine,
+ Hang o'er the abyss, whose else impervious gloom [46]
+ His burning eyes with fearful light illume. 165
+
+ The mind condemned, without reprieve, to go
+ O'er life's long deserts with its charge of woe,
+ With sad congratulation joins the train
+ Where beasts and men together o'er the plain
+ Move on--a mighty caravan of pain: 170
+ Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings,
+ Freshening the wilderness with shades and springs.
+ --There be whose lot far otherwise is cast:
+ Sole human tenant of the piny waste, [47]
+ By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here, 175
+ A nursling babe her only comforter;
+ Lo, where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock,
+ A cowering shape half hid in curling smoke! [48]
+
+ When lightning among clouds and mountain-snows
+ Predominates, and darkness comes and goes, 180
+ And the fierce torrent, at the flashes broad
+ Starts, like a horse, beside the glaring road--
+ She seeks a covert from the battering shower
+ In the roofed bridge [N]; the bridge, in that dread hour,
+ Itself all trembling at the torrent's power. [49] 185
+
+ Nor is she more at ease on some _still_ night,
+ When not a star supplies the comfort of its light;
+ Only the waning moon hangs dull and red
+ Above a melancholy mountain's head,
+ Then sets. In total gloom the Vagrant sighs, 190
+ Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes;
+ Or on her fingers counts the distant clock,
+ Or, to the drowsy crow of midnight cock,
+ Listens, or quakes while from the forest's gulf
+ Howls near and nearer yet the famished wolf. [50] 195
+
+ From the green vale of Urseren smooth and wide
+ Descend we now, the maddened Reuss our guide; [51]
+ By rocks that, shutting out the blessed day,
+ Cling tremblingly to rocks as loose as they;
+ By cells [P] upon whose image, while he prays, 200
+ The kneeling peasant scarcely dares to gaze;
+ By many a votive death-cross [Q] planted near,
+ And watered duly with the pious tear,
+ That faded silent from the upward eye
+ Unmoved with each rude form of peril nigh; [52] 205
+ Fixed on the anchor left by Him who saves
+ Alike in whelming snows, and roaring waves.
+
+ But soon a peopled region on the sight
+ Opens--a little world of calm delight; [53]
+ Where mists, suspended on the expiring gale, 210
+ Spread roof like o'er the deep secluded vale, [54]
+ And beams of evening slipping in between,
+ Gently illuminate a sober scene:--[55]
+ Here, on the brown wood-cottages [R] they sleep, [56]
+ There, over rock or sloping pasture creep. [57] 215
+ On as we journey, in clear view displayed,
+ The still vale lengthens underneath its shade
+ Of low-hung vapour: on the freshened mead
+ The green light sparkles;--the dim bowers recede. [58]
+ While pastoral pipes and streams the landscape lull, 220
+ And bells of passing mules that tinkle dull,
+ In solemn shapes before the admiring eye
+ Dilated hang the misty pines on high,
+ Huge convent domes with pinnacles and towers,
+ And antique castles seen through gleamy [59] showers. 225
+
+ From such romantic dreams, my soul, awake!
+ To sterner pleasure, where, by Uri's lake
+ In Nature's pristine majesty outspread,
+ Winds neither road nor path for foot to tread: [60]
+ The rocks rise naked as a wall, or stretch, 230
+ Far o'er the water, hung with groves of beech; [61]
+ Aerial pines from loftier steeps ascend,
+ Nor stop but where creation seems to end. [62]
+ Yet here and there, if 'mid the savage scene
+ Appears a scanty plot of smiling green, 235
+ Up from the lake a zigzag path will creep
+ To reach a small wood-hut hung boldly on the steep. [63]
+ --Before those thresholds (never can they know [64]
+ The face of traveller passing to and fro,)
+ No peasant leans upon his pole, to tell 240
+ For whom at morning tolled the funeral bell;
+ Their watch-dog ne'er his angry bark foregoes,
+ Touched by the beggar's moan of human woes;
+ The shady porch ne'er offered a cool seat
+ To pilgrims overcome by summer's heat. [65] 245
+ Yet thither the world's business finds its way
+ At times, and tales unsought beguile the day,
+ And _there_ are those fond thoughts which Solitude, [66]
+ However stern, is powerless to exclude. [67]
+ There doth the maiden watch her lover's sail 250
+ Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale;
+ At midnight listens till his parting oar,
+ And its last echo, can be heard no more. [68]
+
+ And what if ospreys, cormorants, herons cry,
+ Amid tempestuous vapours driving by, [69] 255
+ Or hovering over wastes too bleak to rear
+ That common growth of earth, the foodful ear; [70]
+ Where the green apple shrivels on the spray,
+ And pines the unripened pear in summer's kindliest ray; [71]
+ Contentment shares the desolate domain [72] 260
+ With Independence, child of high Disdain.
+ Exulting 'mid the winter of the skies,
+ Shy as the jealous chamois, Freedom flies,
+ And grasps by fits her sword, and often eyes;
+ And sometimes, as from rock to rock she bounds 265
+ The Patriot nymph starts at imagined sounds,
+ And, wildly pausing, oft she hangs aghast,
+ Whether some old Swiss air hath checked her haste
+ Or thrill of Spartan fife is caught between the blast. [73]
+
+ Swoln with incessant rains from hour to hour, [74] 270
+ All day the floods a deepening murmur pour:
+ The sky is veiled, and every cheerful sight:
+ Dark is the region as with coming night;
+ But what a sudden burst of overpowering light!
+ Triumphant on the bosom of the storm, 275
+ Glances the wheeling eagle's glorious form![75]
+ Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine
+ The wood-crowned cliffs that o'er the lake recline;
+ Those lofty cliffs a hundred streams unfold, [76]
+ At once to pillars turned that flame with gold: 280
+ Behind his sail the peasant shrinks, to shun
+ The _west_, [77] that burns like one dilated sun,
+ A crucible of mighty compass, felt
+ By mountains, glowing till they seem to melt. [78]
+
+ But, lo! the boatman, overawed, before 285
+ The pictured fane of Tell suspends his oar;
+ Confused the Marathonian tale appears,
+ While his eyes sparkle with heroic tears. [79]
+ And who, that walks where men of ancient days
+ Have wrought with godlike arm the deeds of praise, 290
+ Feels not the spirit of the place control,
+ Or rouse [80] and agitate his labouring soul?
+ Say, who, by thinking on Canadian hills,
+ Or wild Aosta lulled by Alpine rills,
+ On Zutphen's plain; or on that highland dell, 295
+ Through which rough Garry cleaves his way, can tell
+ What high resolves exalt the tenderest thought
+ Of him whom passion rivets to the spot, [81]
+ Where breathed the gale that caught Wolfe's happiest sigh,
+ And the last sunbeam fell on Bayard's eye; 300
+ Where bleeding Sidney from the cup retired,
+ And glad Dundee in "faint huzzas" [S] expired?
+
+ But now with other mind I stand alone
+ Upon the summit of this naked cone,
+ And watch the fearless chamois-hunter chase 305
+ His prey, through tracts abrupt of desolate space, [82]
+ [T] Through vacant worlds where Nature never gave
+ A brook to murmur or a bough to wave,
+ Which unsubstantial Phantoms sacred keep;
+ Thro' worlds where Life, and Voice, and Motion sleep; 310
+ Where silent Hours their death-like sway extend,
+ Save when the avalanche breaks loose, to rend
+ Its way with uproar, till the ruin, drowned
+ In some dense wood or gulf of snow profound,
+ Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound. [83] 315
+ --'Tis his, while wandering on from height to height,
+ To see a planet's pomp and steady light
+ In the least star of scarce-appearing night;
+ While the pale moon moves near him, on the bound
+ Of ether, shining with diminished round, [84] 320
+ And far and wide the icy summits blaze,
+ Rejoicing in the glory of her rays:
+ To him the day-star glitters small and bright,
+ Shorn of its beams, insufferably white,
+ And he can look beyond the sun, and view 325
+ Those fast-receding depths of sable blue
+ Flying till vision can no more pursue! [85]
+ --At once bewildering mists around him close,
+ And cold and hunger are his least of woes;
+ The Demon of the snow, with angry roar 330
+ Descending, shuts for aye his prison door.
+ Soon with despair's whole weight his spirits sink;
+ Bread has he none, the snow must be his drink;
+ And, ere his eyes can close upon the day, [86]
+ The eagle of the Alps o'ershades her prey. 335
+
+ Now couch thyself where, heard with fear afar, [87]
+ Thunders through echoing pines the headlong Aar;
+ Or rather stay to taste the mild delights
+ Of pensive Underwalden's [U] pastoral heights.
+ --Is there who 'mid these awful wilds has seen 340
+ The native Genii walk the mountain green?
+ Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal,
+ Soft music o'er [88] the aerial summit steal?
+ While o'er the desert, answering every close,
+ Rich steam of sweetest perfume comes and goes. 345
+ --And sure there is a secret Power that reigns
+ Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes,
+ Nought but the _chalets_, [V] flat and bare, on high
+ Suspended 'mid the quiet of the sky;
+ Or distant herds that pasturing upward creep, 350
+ And, not untended, climb the dangerous steep. [89]
+ How still! no irreligious sound or sight
+ Rouses the soul from her severe delight.
+ An idle voice the sabbath region fills
+ Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills, 355
+ And with that voice accords the soothing sound [90]
+ Of drowsy bells, for ever tinkling round;
+ Faint wail of eagle melting into blue
+ Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods' steady _sugh_; [W]
+ The solitary heifer's deepened low; 360
+ Or rumbling, heard remote, of falling snow.
+ All motions, sounds, and voices, far and nigh,
+ Blend in a music of tranquillity; [91]
+ Save when, a stranger seen below [92] the boy
+ Shouts from the echoing hills with savage joy. 365
+
+ When, from the sunny breast of open seas,
+ And bays with myrtle fringed, the southern breeze
+ Comes on to gladden April with the sight
+ Of green isles widening on each snow-clad height; [93]
+ When shouts and lowing herds the valley fill, 370
+ And louder torrents stun the noon-tide hill,
+ [94] The pastoral Swiss begin the cliffs to scale,
+ Leaving to silence the deserted vale; [95]
+ And like the Patriarchs in their simple age
+ Move, as the verdure leads, from stage to stage; [96] 375
+ High and more high in summer's heat they go, [97]
+ And hear the rattling thunder far below;
+ Or steal beneath the mountains, half-deterred,
+ Where huge rocks tremble to the bellowing herd. [98]
+
+ One I behold who, 'cross the foaming flood, 380
+ Leaps with a bound of graceful hardihood;
+ Another high on that green ledge;--he gained
+ The tempting spot with every sinew strained; [99]
+ And downward thence a knot of grass he throws,
+ Food for his beasts in time of winter snows. [100] 385
+ --Far different life from what Tradition hoar
+ Transmits of happier lot in times of yore! [101]
+ Then Summer lingered long; and honey flowed
+ From out the rocks, the wild bees' safe abode: [102]
+ Continual waters [103] welling cheered the waste, 390
+ And plants were wholesome, now of deadly taste:
+ Nor Winter yet his frozen stores had piled,
+ Usurping where the fairest herbage smiled:
+ Nor Hunger driven the herds from pastures bare,
+ To climb the treacherous cliffs for scanty fare. [104] 395
+ Then the milk-thistle flourished through the land,
+ And forced the full-swoln udder to demand,
+ Thrice every day, the pail and welcome hand. [105]
+ Thus does the father to his children tell
+ Of banished bliss, by fancy loved too well. [106] 400
+ Alas! that human guilt provoked the rod [107]
+ Of angry Nature to avenge her God.
+ Still, Nature, ever just, to him imparts
+ Joys only given to uncorrupted hearts.
+
+ 'Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows; 405
+ More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose.
+ Far-stretched beneath the many-tinted hills,
+ A mighty waste of mist the valley fills,
+ A solemn sea! whose billows wide around [108]
+ Stand motionless, to awful silence bound: 410
+ Pines, on the coast, through mist their tops uprear,
+ That like to leaning masts of stranded ships appear.
+ A single chasm, a gulf of gloomy blue,
+ Gapes in the centre of the sea--and through
+ That dark mysterious gulf ascending, sound 415
+ Innumerable streams with roar profound. [109]
+ Mount through the nearer vapours notes of birds,
+ And merry flageolet; the low of herds,
+ The bark of dogs, the heifer's tinkling bell,
+ Talk, laughter, and perchance a church-tower knell: [110] 420
+ Think not, the peasant from aloft has gazed
+ And heard with heart unmoved, with soul unraised: [111]
+ Nor is his spirit less enrapt, nor less
+ Alive to independent happiness, [112]
+ Then, when he lies, out-stretched, at even-tide 425
+ Upon the fragrant mountain's purple side: [113]
+ For as the pleasures of his simple day
+ Beyond his native valley seldom stray,
+ Nought round its darling precincts can he find
+ But brings some past enjoyment to his mind; 430
+ While Hope, reclining upon Pleasure's urn, [114]
+ Binds her wild wreaths, and whispers his return.
+
+ Once, Man entirely free, alone and wild,
+ Was blest as free--for he was Nature's child.
+ He, all superior but his God disdained, 435
+ Walked none restraining, and by none restrained:
+ Confessed no law but what his reason taught,
+ Did all he wished, and wished but what he ought.
+ As man in his primeval dower arrayed
+ The image of his glorious Sire displayed, 440
+ Even so, by faithful [115] Nature guarded, here
+ The traces of primeval Man appear;
+ The simple [116] dignity no forms debase;
+ The eye sublime, and surly lion-grace:
+ The slave of none, of beasts alone the lord, 445
+ His book he prizes, nor neglects his sword; [117]
+ --Well taught by that to feel his rights, prepared
+ With this "the blessings he enjoys to guard." [X]
+
+ And, as his native hills encircle ground
+ For many a marvellous [118] victory renowned, 450
+ The work of Freedom daring to oppose,
+ With few in arms, [Y] innumerable foes,
+ When to those famous [119] fields his steps are led,
+ An unknown power connects him with the dead:
+ For images of other worlds are there; 455
+ Awful the light, and holy is the air.
+ Fitfully, and in flashes, through his soul,
+ Like sun-lit tempests, troubled transports roll;
+ His bosom heaves, his Spirit towers amain, [120]
+ Beyond the senses and their little reign. 460
+
+ And oft, when that dread vision hath past by, [121]
+ He holds with God himself communion high,
+ There where the peal [122] of swelling torrents fills
+ The sky-roofed temple of the eternal hills;
+ Or, when upon the mountain's silent brow 465
+ Reclined, he sees, above him and below,
+ Bright stars of ice and azure fields of snow;
+ While needle peaks of granite shooting bare
+ Tremble in ever-varying tints of air.
+ And when a gathering weight of shadows brown 470
+ Falls on the valleys as the sun goes down;
+ And Pikes, of darkness named and fear and storms, [Z]
+ Uplift in quiet their illumined forms, [123]
+ In sea-like reach of prospect round him spread,
+ Tinged like an angel's smile all rosy red-- 475
+ Awe in his breast with holiest love unites,
+ And the near heavens impart their own delights. [124]
+
+ When downward to his winter hut he goes,
+ Dear and more dear the lessening circle grows;
+ That hut which on the hills so oft employs 480
+ His thoughts, the central point of all his joys. [125]
+ And as a swallow, at the hour of rest,
+ Peeps often ere she darts into her nest,
+ So to the homestead, where the grandsire tends
+ A little prattling child, he oft descends, 485
+ To glance a look upon the well-matched pair; [126]
+ Till storm and driving ice blockade him there.
+ There, [127] safely guarded by the woods behind,
+ He hears the chiding of the baffled wind,
+ Hears Winter calling all his terrors round, 490
+ And, blest within himself, he shrinks not from the sound. [128]
+
+ Through Nature's vale his homely pleasures glide,
+ Unstained by envy, discontent, and pride;
+ The bound of all his vanity, to deck,
+ With one bright bell, a favourite heifer's neck; 495
+ Well pleased [129] upon some simple annual feast,
+ Remembered half the year and hoped the rest,
+ If dairy-produce, from his inner hoard,
+ Of thrice ten summers dignify [130] the board.
+ --Alas! in every clime a flying ray 500
+ Is all we have to cheer our wintry way;
+ [131]
+ And here the unwilling mind [132] may more than trace
+ The general sorrows of the human race:
+ The churlish gales of penury, that blow
+ Cold as the north-wind o'er a waste of snow, [133] 505
+ To them [134] the gentle groups of bliss deny
+ That on the noon-day bank of leisure lie.
+ Yet more;--compelled by Powers which only deign
+ That _solitary_ man disturb their reign,
+ Powers that support an unremitting [135] strife 510
+ With all the tender charities of life,
+ Full oft the father, when his sons have grown
+ To manhood, seems their title to disown; [136]
+ And from his nest [137] amid the storms of heaven
+ Drives, eagle-like, those sons as he was driven; 515
+ With stern composure [138] watches to the plain--
+ And never, eagle-like, beholds again!
+
+ When long familiar joys are all resigned,
+ Why does their sad remembrance haunt the mind? [139]
+ Lo! where through flat Batavia's willowy groves, 520
+ Or by the lazy Seine, the exile roves;
+ O'er the curled waters Alpine measures swell,
+ And search the affections to their inmost cell;
+ Sweet poison spreads along the listener's veins,
+ Turning past pleasures into mortal pains; [140] 525
+ Poison, which not a frame of steel can brave,
+ Bows his young head with sorrow to the grave. [Aa]
+
+ Gay lark of hope, thy silent song resume!
+ Ye flattering eastern lights, once more the hills illume! [141]
+ Fresh [142] gales and dews of life's delicious morn, 530
+ And thou, lost fragrance of the heart, return!
+ Alas! the little joy to man allowed,
+ Fades like the lustre of an evening cloud; [143]
+ Or like the beauty in a flower installed,
+ Whose season was, and cannot be recalled. 535
+ Yet, when opprest by sickness, grief, or care,
+ And taught that pain is pleasure's natural heir,
+ We still confide in more than we can know;
+ Death would be else the favourite friend of woe. [144]
+
+ 'Mid savage rocks, and seas of snow that shine, 540
+ Between interminable tracts of pine,
+ Within a temple stands an awful shrine, [145]
+ By an uncertain light revealed, that falls
+ On the mute Image and the troubled walls.
+ Oh! give not me that eye of hard disdain 545
+ That views, undimmed, Ensiedlen's [Bb] wretched fane.
+ While ghastly faces through the gloom appear, [146]
+ Abortive joy, and hope that works in fear; [147]
+ While prayer contends with silenced agony, [148]
+ Surely in other thoughts contempt may die. 550
+ If the sad grave of human ignorance bear
+ One flower of hope--oh, pass and leave it there! [Cc]
+
+ The tall sun, pausing [149] on an Alpine spire,
+ Flings o'er the wilderness a stream of fire:
+ Now meet we other pilgrims ere the day [150] 555
+ Close on the remnant of their weary way;
+ While they are drawing toward the sacred floor
+ Where, so they fondly think, the worm shall gnaw no more. [151]
+ How gaily murmur and how sweetly taste
+ The fountains [Dd] reared for them [152] amid the waste! 560
+ Their thirst they slake:--they wash their toil-worn feet,
+ And some with tears of joy each other greet. [153]
+ Yes, I must [154] see you when ye first behold
+ Those holy turrets tipped with evening gold,
+ In that glad moment will for you a sigh 565
+ Be heaved, of charitable sympathy; [155]
+ In that glad moment when your [156] hands are prest
+ In mute devotion on the thankful breast!
+
+ Last, let us turn to Chamouny that shields [157]
+ With rocks and gloomy woods [158] her fertile fields: 570
+ Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,
+ And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend;--[Ee]
+ A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns
+ Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains;
+ Here all the seasons revel hand in hand: 575
+ 'Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned [159]
+ [160] They sport beneath that mountain's matchless height [161]
+ That holds no commerce with the summer night. [Ee]
+ From age to age, throughout [162] his lonely bounds
+ The crash of ruin fitfully resounds; 580
+ Appalling [163] havoc! but serene his brow,
+ Where daylight lingers on [164] perpetual snow;
+ Glitter the stars, and all is black below. [Ee]
+
+ What marvel then if many a Wanderer sigh,
+ While roars the sullen Arve in anger by, [165] 585
+ That not for thy reward, unrivall'd [166] Vale! [Ff]
+ Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale;
+ That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed to pine
+ And droop, while no Italian arts are thine,
+ To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine. [167] 590
+
+ Hail Freedom! whether it was mine to stray,
+ With shrill winds whistling round my lonely way, [168]
+ On [169] the bleak sides of Cumbria's heath-clad moors,
+ Or where dank sea-weed lashes Scotland's shores;
+ To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose, 595
+ And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;
+ Still have I found, where Tyranny prevails,
+ That virtue languishes and pleasure fails, [170]
+ While the remotest hamlets blessings share
+ In thy loved [171] presence known, and only there; 600
+ _Heart_-blessings--outward treasures too which the eye
+ Of the sun peeping through the clouds can spy,
+ And every passing breeze will testify. [172]
+ There, to the porch, belike with jasmine bound
+ Or woodbine wreaths, a smoother path is wound; [173] 605
+ The housewife there a brighter garden sees,
+ Where hum on busier wing her happy bees; [174]
+ On infant cheeks there fresher roses blow;
+ And grey-haired men look up with livelier brow,--[175]
+ To greet the traveller needing food and rest; 610
+ Housed for the night, or but a half-hour's guest. [176]
+
+ And oh, fair France! though now the traveller sees
+ Thy three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze;[177]
+ Though martial songs have banished songs of love,
+ And nightingales desert the village grove, [178] 615
+ Scared by the fife and rumbling drum's alarms,
+ And the short thunder, and the flash of arms;
+ That cease not till night falls, when far and nigh,
+ Sole sound, the Sourd [Gg] prolongs his mournful cry! [179]
+ --Yet, hast thou found that Freedom spreads her power 620
+ Beyond the cottage-hearth, the cottage-door:
+ All nature smiles, and owns beneath her eyes
+ Her fields peculiar, and peculiar skies.
+ Yes, as I roamed where Loiret's waters glide
+ Through rustling aspens heard from side to side, 625
+ When from October clouds a milder light
+ Fell where the blue flood rippled into white;
+ Methought from every cot the watchful bird
+ Crowed with ear-piercing power till then unheard;
+ Each clacking mill, that broke the murmuring streams, 630
+ Rocked the charmed thought in more delightful dreams;
+ Chasing those pleasant dreams, [180] the falling leaf
+ Awoke a fainter sense [181] of moral grief;
+ The measured echo of the distant flail
+ Wound in more welcome cadence down the vale; 635
+ With more majestic course the water rolled,
+ And ripening foliage shone with richer gold. [182]
+ --But foes are gathering--Liberty must raise
+ Red on the hills her beacon's far-seen blaze;
+ Must bid the tocsin ring from tower to tower!-- 640
+ Nearer and nearer comes the trying hour! [183]
+ Rejoice, brave Land, though pride's perverted ire
+ Rouse hell's own aid, and wrap thy fields in fire:
+ Lo, from the flames a great and glorious birth;
+ As if a new-made heaven were hailing a new earth! [184] 645
+ --All cannot be: the promise is too fair
+ For creatures doomed to breathe terrestrial air:
+ Yet not for this will sober reason frown
+ Upon that promise, not the hope disown;
+ She knows that only from high aims ensue 650
+ Rich guerdons, and to them alone are due. [185]
+
+ Great God! by whom the strifes of men are weighed
+ In an impartial balance, give thine aid
+ To the just cause; and, oh! do thou preside
+ Over the mighty stream now spreading wide: [Hh] 655
+ So shall its waters, from the heavens supplied
+ In copious showers, from earth by wholesome springs,
+ Brood o'er the long-parched lands with Nile-like wings!
+ And grant that every sceptred child of clay
+ Who cries presumptuous, "Here the flood shall stay," [186] 660
+ May in its progress see thy guiding hand,
+ And cease the acknowledged purpose to withstand; [187]
+ Or, swept in anger from the insulted shore,
+ Sink with his servile bands, to rise no more! [188]
+
+ To-night, my Friend, within this humble cot 665
+ Be scorn and fear and hope alike forgot [189]
+ In timely sleep; and when, at break of day,
+ On the tall peaks the glistening sunbeams play, [190]
+ With a light heart our course we may renew,
+ The first whose footsteps print the mountain dew. [191] 670
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... a spot of holy ground,
+ By Pain and her sad family unfound,
+ Sure, Nature's God that spot to man had given,
+ Where murmuring rivers join the song of even;
+ Where falls ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ Where the resounding power of water shakes 1820.
+
+ Where with loud voice the power of waters shakes 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ And not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
+ Who, to converse with Nature, quits his home,
+ And plods o'er hills and vales his way forlorn,
+ Wooing her various charms from eve to morn. 1820.
+
+ Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
+ Who at the call of summer quits his home,
+ And plods through some far realm o'er vale and height,
+ Though seeking only holiday delight; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 4: Lines 13 and 14 were introduced in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1827.
+
+ No sad vacuities [i] his heart annoy;--
+ Blows not a Zephyr but it whispers joy;
+ For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale;
+ He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale;
+ For him sod-seats ... 1815.
+
+ Breathes not a zephyr but it whispers joy;
+ For him the loneliest flowers their sweets exhale;
+ He marks "the meanest note that swells the [ii] gale;" 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1820.
+
+ And dear the green-sward to his velvet tread; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1815.
+
+ Whilst ... Only in 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... with kindest ray
+ To light him shaken by his viewless way. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1836.
+
+ With bashful fear no cottage children steal
+ From him, a brother at the cottage meal, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1845.
+
+ Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing Care,
+ Or desperate Love could lead a wanderer there. 1815.
+
+ Much wondering in what fit of crazing care,
+ Or desperate love, a wanderer came there. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1836.
+
+ Me, lured by hope her sorrows to remove,
+ A heart that could not much itself approve,
+ O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led,
+ Her road elms rustling high above my head,
+ Or through her truant pathways' native charms,
+ By secret villages and lonely farms,
+ To where the Alps ... 1820.
+
+ ... could not much herself approve, 1827.
+
+ ... lured by hope its sorrows to remove, 1832.
+
+The lines 46, 47, were expanded in the edition of 1836 from one line in
+the editions of 1820-1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1836.
+
+ I sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.
+ Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe
+ Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear?
+ That breathed a death-like peace these woods around;
+ The cloister startles ... 1815.
+
+ Even now, emerging from the forest's gloom,
+ I heave a sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.
+ Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe
+ Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear? 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1836.
+
+ That breathed a death-like silence wide around,
+ Broke only by the unvaried torrent's sound,
+ Or prayer-bell by the dull cicada drown'd. 1820.
+
+The editions of 1827 and 1832 omit these lines.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1836.
+
+ The cloister startles at the gleam of arms,
+ And Blasphemy the shuddering fane alarms; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1793.
+
+ That ... 1827.
+
+The edition of 1836 returns to the text of 1793.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1836.
+
+ And swells the groaning torrent with his tears. 1815.
+
+In the editions 1815-1832 lines 61, 62 followed line 66.]
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1836.
+
+ Nod the cloud-piercing pines their troubled heads, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1836.
+
+ The cross with hideous laughter Demons mock,
+ By angels planted on the aereal rock. 1815.
+
+ The cross, by angels on the aerial rock
+ Planted, a flight of laughing demons mock. 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... sound ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1836.
+
+ To ringing team unknown ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1827.
+
+ Wild round the steeps the little pathway twines, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 22:
+
+1836.
+
+ The viewless lingerer ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1845.
+
+ Tracking the yellow sun from steep to steep,
+ As up the opposing hills, with tortoise foot, they creep. 1815.
+
+ And track the yellow light ... 1836.
+
+ ... on naked steeps
+ As up the opposing hill it slowly creeps. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 24:
+
+1845.
+
+ Here half a village shines, in gold arrayed,
+ Bright as the moon; ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 25:
+
+1827.
+
+ From the dark sylvan roofs the restless spire
+ Inconstant glancing, mounts like springing fire. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 26:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... the waves ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 27:
+
+1836.
+
+ Th' unwearied sweep of wood thy cliffs that scales;
+ The never-ending waters of thy vales; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 28:
+
+1836.
+
+Line 111 was previously three lines, thus--
+
+ The cots, those dim religious groves embower,
+ Or, under rocks that from the water tower
+ Insinuated, sprinkling all the shore, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 29:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... his ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 30:
+
+1836.
+
+ Whose flaccid sails in forms fantastic droop,
+ Bright'ning the gloom where thick the forests stoop;
+
+Only in the editions 1815 to 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 31:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... like swallows' nests that cleave on high; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 32:
+
+1827.
+
+ While Evening's solemn bird melodious weeps,
+ Heard, by star-spotted bays, beneath the steeps;
+
+Only in the editions of 1815 and 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 33:
+
+1836.
+
+ --Thy lake, mid smoking woods, that blue and grey
+ Gleams, streaked or dappled, hid from morning's ray 1815.
+
+ As beautiful the flood where blue or grey
+ Dappled, or streaked, as hid from morning's ray. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 34:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... to fold 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 35:
+
+1836.
+
+ From thickly-glittering spires the matin bell
+ Calling the woodman from his desert cell,
+ A summons to the sound of oars, that pass,
+ Spotting the steaming deeps, to early mass;
+ Slow swells the service o'er the water born,
+ While fill each pause the ringing woods of morn. 1815.
+
+ Calls forth the woodman with its cheerful knell. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 36: This couplet was first added in 1845.]
+
+
+[Variant 37:
+
+1845.
+
+ Farewell those forms that in thy noon-tide shade,
+ Rest, near their little plots of wheaten glade; 1820.
+
+ Ye lovely forms that in the noontide shade
+ Rest near their little plots of wheaten glade. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 38:
+
+1845.
+
+ Those charms that bind ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 39:
+
+1836.
+
+ And winds, ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 40:
+
+1836.
+
+ Yet arts are thine that soothe the unquiet heart,
+ And smiles to Solitude and Want impart.
+ I lov'd, 'mid thy most desart woods astray,
+ With pensive step to measure my slow way,
+ By lonely, silent cottage-doors to roam,
+ The far-off peasant's day-deserted home. 1820.
+
+ I loved by silent cottage-doors to roam,
+ The far-off peasant's day-deserted home; 1827.
+
+These two lines take the place of the second and third couplets of the
+1820 text quoted above.]
+
+
+[Variant 41:
+
+1836.
+
+ Once did I pierce to where a cabin stood;
+ The red-breast peace had buried it in wood, 1820.
+
+ And once I pierced the mazes of a wood,
+ Where, far from public haunt, a cabin stood; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 42:
+
+1836.
+
+ There, by the door a hoary-headed Sire
+ Touched with his withered hand an ancient lyre; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 43:
+
+1836.
+
+This and the following line were expanded from
+
+ Beneath an old-grey oak, as violets lie, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 44:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... joined the holy sound; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 45:
+
+1836.
+
+ While ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 46:
+
+1845.
+
+ Bend o'er th' abyss, the else impervious gloom 1820.
+
+ Hang o'er th' abyss:--... 1827.
+
+ ... the abyss:--... 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 47:
+
+1836.
+
+ Freshening the waste of sand with shades and springs.
+ --_She_, solitary, through the desart drear
+ Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear. 1820.
+
+ By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here,
+ Companionless, or hand in hand with fear;
+ Lo! where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock,
+ A cowering shape half-seen through curling smoke. MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 48:
+
+1836.
+
+ The Grison gypsey here her tent hath placed,
+ Sole human tenant of the piny waste;
+ Her tawny skin, dark eyes, and glossy locks,
+ Bend o'er the smoke that curls beneath the rocks.[iii] 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 49:
+
+1845.
+
+Lines 179-185 were substituted in 1845 for
+
+ A giant moan along the forest swells
+ Protracted, and the twilight storm foretels,
+ And, ruining from the cliffs, their deafening load
+ Tumbles,--the wildering Thunder slips abroad;
+ On the high summits Darkness comes and goes,
+ Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows;
+ The torrent, traversed by the lustre broad,
+ Starts like a horse beside the flashing road;
+ In the roofed bridge, at that terrific hour,
+ She seeks a shelter from the battering show'r.
+ --Fierce comes the river down; the crashing wood
+ Gives way, and half it's pines torment the flood;
+ [iv] Fearful, beneath, the Water-spirits call,
+ And the bridge vibrates, tottering to its fall. 1820.
+
+ When rueful moans along the forest swell
+ Protracted, and the twilight storm foretel,
+ And, headlong from the cliffs, a deafening load
+ Tumbles,--and wildering thunder slips abroad;
+ When on the summits Darkness comes and goes,
+ Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows;
+ And the fierce torrent, from the lustre broad,
+ Starts, like a horse beside the flashing road--
+ She seeks a covert from the battering shower
+ In the roofed bridge; the bridge, in that dread hour,
+ Itself all quaking at the torrent's power. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 50:
+
+1845.
+
+Lines 186-195 were substituted in 1845 for
+
+ --Heavy, and dull, and cloudy is the night;
+ No star supplies the comfort of it's light,
+ Glimmer the dim-lit Alps, dilated, round,
+ And one sole light shifts in the vale profound; [s1]
+ While, [s2] opposite, the waning moon hangs still,
+ And red, above her [s3] melancholy hill.
+ By the deep quiet gloom appalled, she sighs, [s4]
+ Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes.
+ She hears, upon the mountain forest's brow,
+ The death-dog, howling loud and long, below;
+ --Breaking th' ascending roar of desert floods,
+ And insect buzz, that stuns the sultry woods, [s5]
+ On viewless fingers [s6] counts the valley-clock,
+ Followed by drowsy crow of midnight cock.
+ --Bursts from the troubled larch's giant boughs
+ The pie, and, chattering, breaks the night's repose. [s7]
+ The dry leaves stir as with the serpent's walk,
+ And, far beneath, Banditti voices talk;
+ Behind her hill, [s8] the Moon, all crimson, rides,
+ And his red eyes the slinking Water hides.
+ --Vexed by the darkness, from the piny gulf
+ Ascending, nearer howls the famished wolf, [s9]
+ While thro' the stillness scatters wild dismay
+ Her babe's small cry, that leads him to his prey. 1820.
+
+s1-s9: see Sub-Variants below. txt. Ed.]
+
+
+[Variant 51:
+
+1836.
+
+ Now, passing Urseren's open vale serene,
+ Her quiet streams, and hills of downy green,
+ Plunge with the Russ embrowned by Terror's breath,
+ Where danger roofs the narrow walks of death; 1815.
+
+ Plunge where the Reuss with fearless might has rent
+ His headlong way along a dark descent. MS.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Variant 52:
+
+1836.
+
+ By floods, that, thundering from their dizzy height,
+ Swell more gigantic on the stedfast sight;
+ Black drizzling crags, that beaten by the din,
+ Vibrate, as if a voice complained within;
+ Bare steeps, where Desolation stalks afraid,
+ Unstedfast, by a blasted yew unstayed;
+ By cells whose image, trembling as he prays,
+ Awe-struck, the kneeling peasant scarce surveys;
+ Loose hanging rocks the Day's bless'd eye that hide,
+ And crosses reared to Death on every side,
+ Which with cold kiss Devotion planted near,
+ And bending water'd with the human tear;
+ That faded "silent" from her upward eye,
+ Unmoved with each rude form of Danger nigh, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 53:
+
+1836.
+
+ On as we move a softer prospect opes,
+ Calm huts, and lawns between, and sylvan slopes. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 54:
+
+1845.
+
+ While mists, suspended on the expiring gale,
+ Moveless o'er-hang the deep secluded vale, 1815.
+
+ Where mists, 1836.
+
+ Where mists suspended on the evening gale,
+ Spread roof-like o'er a deep secluded vale, C.
+
+ Given to clear view beneath a hoary veil
+ Of mists suspended on the evening gale. MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 55:
+
+1836.
+
+ The beams of evening, slipping soft between,
+ Light up of tranquil joy a sober scene. 1815.
+
+ Gently illuminate a sober scene; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 56: In the editions 1815-1832 ll. 214, 215 follow, instead of
+preceding, ll. 216-219.]
+
+
+[Variant 57:
+
+1845.
+
+ On the low brown wood-huts delighted sleep
+ Along the brightened gloom reposing deep. 1815.
+
+ Here, on the brown wood-cottages they sleep,
+ There, over lawns and sloping woodlands creep. 1836.
+
+ There, over lawn or sloping pasture creep. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 58:
+
+1845.
+
+ Winding its dark-green wood and emerald glade,
+ The still vale lengthens underneath the shade;
+ While in soft gloom the scattering bowers recede,
+ Green dewy lights adorn the freshened mead, 1815.
+
+ Winding its darksome wood and emerald glade,
+ The still vale lengthens underneath the shade
+ Of low-hung vapour: on the freshened mead
+ The green light sparkles;--the dim bowers recede. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 59:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... drizzling ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 60:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... my soul awake,
+ Lo! Fear looks silent down on Uri's lake;
+ Where by the unpathwayed margin still and dread
+ Was never heard the plodding peasant's tread: 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 61:
+
+1845.
+
+ Tower like a wall the naked rocks, or reach
+ Far o'er the secret water dark with beech; 1815.
+
+ Tower-like rise up the naked rocks, or stretch 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 62:
+
+1845.
+
+ More high, to where creation seems to end,
+ Shade above shade the desert pines ascend. 1815.
+
+ ... the aerial pines ... 1820.
+
+ Shade above shade, the aerial pines ascend,
+ Nor stop but where creation seems to end. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 63:
+
+1845.
+
+(Compressing eight lines into four.)
+
+ Yet, with his infants, man undaunted creeps
+ And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps,
+ Where'er, below, amid the savage scene
+ Peeps out a little speck of smiling green.
+ A garden-plot the mountain air perfumes,
+ Mid the dark pines a little orchard blooms;
+ A zig-zag path from the domestic skiff,
+ Threading the painful crag, surmounts the cliff. 1815.
+
+ ... wood-cabin on the steeps. 1820.
+
+ ... the desert air perfumes, 1820.
+
+ Thridding the painful crag, ... 1832.
+
+ Yet, wheresoe'er amid the savage scene
+ Peeps out a little spot of smiling green,
+ Man with his babes undaunted thither creeps,
+ And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps.
+ A garden-plot ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 64:
+
+1845.
+
+ --Before those hermit doors, that never know 1815.
+
+ --Before those lonesome doors, ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 65:
+
+1845.
+
+ The grassy seat beneath their casement shade
+ The pilgrim's wistful eye hath never stayed. 1815.
+
+ The shady porch ne'er offered a cool seat
+ To pilgrims overpowered by summer's heat. 1836.]
+
+[Variants 66 and 67: See Appendix III.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Variant 68:
+
+1845.
+
+Lines 246 to 253 were previously:
+
+ --There, did the iron Genius not disdain
+ The gentle Power that haunts the myrtle plain,
+ There might the love-sick Maiden sit, and chide
+ Th' insuperable rocks and severing tide,
+ There watch at eve her Lover's sun-gilt sail
+ Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale,
+ There list at midnight, till is heard no more,
+ Below, the echo of his parting oar,
+ There hang in fear, when growls the frozen stream, [v]
+ To guide his dangerous tread, the taper's gleam. 1815.
+
+ There might the maiden chide, in love-sick mood,
+ The insuperable rocks and severing flood; 1836.
+
+ At midnight listen till his parting oar,
+ And its last echo, can be heard no more. 1836.
+
+ Yet tender thoughts dwell there, no solitude
+ Hath power youth's natural feelings to exclude;
+ There doth the maiden watch her lover's sail
+ Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 69:
+
+1845.
+
+ Mid stormy vapours ever driving by,
+ Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry; 1815.
+
+ Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry,
+ 'Mid stormy vapours ever driving by, 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 70:
+
+1836.
+
+ Where hardly given the hopeless waste to cheer,
+ Denied the bread of life the foodful ear, 1815.
+
+ Hovering o'er rugged wastes too bleak to rear
+ That common growth of earth, the foodful ear; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 71:
+
+1820.
+
+ Dwindles the pear on autumn's latest spray,
+ And apple sickens pale in summer's ray; 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 72:
+
+1845.
+
+ Ev'n here Content has fixed her smiling reign 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 73:
+
+1845.
+
+ And often grasps her sword, and often eyes:
+ Her crest a bough of Winter's bleakest pine,
+ Strange "weeds" and alpine plants her helm entwine,
+ And wildly-pausing oft she hangs aghast,
+ While thrills the "Spartan fife" between the blast. 1815.
+
+ Flowers of the loftiest Alps her helm entwine;
+ And, wildly pausing, oft she hangs aghast,
+ As thrills ... 1836.
+
+ And oft at Fancy's call she stands aghast,
+ As if some old Swiss air had checked her haste,
+ Or thrill of Spartan fife were caught between the blast. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 74:
+
+1845.
+
+ 'Tis storm; and, hid in mist from hour to hour, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 75:
+
+1845.
+
+ Glances the fire-clad eagle's wheeling form; 1815.
+
+ ... glorious form; 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 76:
+
+1845.
+
+ Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold, 1815.
+
+ Those eastern cliffs ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 77:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... strives to shun
+ The west ... 1815.
+
+ ... tries to shun
+ The _west_, ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 78:
+
+1845.
+
+ Where in a mighty crucible expire
+ The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 79:
+
+1836.
+
+ While burn in his full eyes the glorious tears. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 80:
+
+1836.
+
+ Exalt, and agitate ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 81:
+
+1836.
+
+ On Zutphen's plain; or where, with soften'd gaze,
+ The old grey stones the plaided chief surveys;
+ Can guess the high resolve, the cherished pain
+ Of him whom passion rivets to the plain, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 82:
+
+1836.
+
+ And watch, from pike to pike, amid the sky
+ Small as a bird the chamois-chaser fly, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 83:
+
+1836.
+
+ Thro' worlds where Life, and Sound, and Motion sleep;
+ Where Silence still her death-like reign extends,
+ Save when the startling cliff unfrequent rends:
+ In the deep snow the mighty ruin drowned,
+ Mocks the dull ear ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 84:
+
+1836.
+
+ While the near moon, that coasts the vast profound,
+ Wheels pale and silent her diminished round, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 85:
+
+1827.
+
+ Flying more fleet than vision can pursue! 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 86:
+
+1836.
+
+ Then with Despair's whole weight his spirits sink,
+ No bread to feed him, and the snow his drink,
+ While, ere his eyes ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 87:
+
+1836.
+
+ Hence shall we turn where, heard with fear afar, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 88:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... from ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 89:
+
+1836.
+
+ Nought but the herds that pasturing upward creep,
+ Hung dim-discover'd from the dangerous steep,
+ Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high
+ Suspended, mid the quiet of the sky. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 90:
+
+1836.
+
+ Broke only by the melancholy sound 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 91: The two previous lines were added in 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 92:
+
+1832.
+
+ Save that, the stranger seen below, ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 93:
+
+1836.
+
+ When warm from myrtle bays and tranquil seas,
+ Comes on, to whisper hope, the vernal breeze,
+ When hums the mountain bee in May's glad ear,
+ And emerald isles to spot the heights appear, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 94:
+
+ When fragrant scents beneath th' enchanted tread
+ Spring up, his choicest wealth around him spread,
+
+Inserted in the editions 1815 to 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 95:
+
+1836.
+
+ The pastoral Swiss begins the cliffs to scale,
+ To silence leaving the deserted vale, 1815]
+
+
+[Variant 96:
+
+1836.
+
+ Mounts, where the verdure leads, from stage to stage,
+ And pastures on, as in the Patriarch's age: 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 97:
+
+1836.
+
+ O'er lofty heights serene and still they go, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 98:
+
+1836.
+
+(Omitting the first of the two following couplets.)
+
+ They cross the chasmy torrent's foam-lit bed,
+ Rocked on the dizzy larch's narrow tread;
+ Or steal beneath loose mountains, half deterr'd,
+ That sigh and shudder to the lowing herd. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 99: This couplet was added in the edition of 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 100:
+
+1836.
+
+Lines 380-385 were previously:
+
+ --I see him, up the midway cliff he creeps
+ To where a scanty knot of verdure peeps,
+ Thence down the steep a pile of grass he throws,
+ The fodder of his herds in winter snows. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 101:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... to what tradition hoar
+ Transmits of days more blest ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 102:
+
+1845.
+
+ Then Summer lengthened out his season bland,
+ And with rock-honey flowed the happy land. 1815.
+
+ Then Summer lingered long; and honey flowed
+ Out of the rocks, the wild bees' safe abode. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 103:
+
+1836.
+
+ Continual fountains ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 104:
+
+1836.
+
+ Nor Hunger forced the herds from pastures bare
+ For scanty food the treacherous cliffs to dare. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 105:
+
+1836.
+
+ Then the milk-thistle bade those herds demand
+ Three times a day the pail and welcome hand. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 106:
+
+1836.
+
+ Thus does the father to his sons relate,
+ On the lone mountain top, their changed estate. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 107:
+
+1836.
+
+ But human vices have provoked the rod 1815.
+
+In the editions 1815-1832 this and the following line preceded lines
+399-400. They took their final position in the edition of 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 108:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... whose vales and mountains round 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 109:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing eight lines into six.)
+
+ ... to awful silence bound.
+ A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide
+ And bottomless, divides the midway tide.
+ Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear
+ The pines that near the coast their summits rear;
+ Of cabins, woods, and lawns a pleasant shore
+ Bounds calm and clear the chaps still and hoar;
+ Loud thro' that midway gulf ascending, sound
+ Unnumber'd streams with hollow roar profound: 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 110:
+
+1836.
+
+ Mount thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds,
+ And talking voices, and the low of herds,
+ The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell,
+ And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 111:
+
+1836.
+
+ Think not, suspended from the cliff on high,
+ He looks below with undelighted eye. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 112: This couplet was added in the edition of 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 113:
+
+1836.
+
+ --No vulgar joy is his, at even tide
+ Stretch'd on the scented mountain's purple side. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 114:
+
+1836.
+
+ While Hope, that ceaseless leans on Pleasure's urn, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 115:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... by vestal ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 116:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... native ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 117:
+
+1832.
+
+ He marches with his flute, his book, and sword; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 118:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... wonderous ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 119:
+
+1840.
+
+ ... glorious ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 120:
+
+1836.
+
+ Uncertain thro' his fierce uncultured soul
+ Like lighted tempests troubled transports roll;
+ To viewless realms his Spirit towers amain, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 121:
+
+1836.
+
+ And oft, when pass'd that solemn vision by, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 122:
+
+1836.
+
+ Where the dread peal ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 123:
+
+1836.
+
+ --When the Sun bids the gorgeous scene farewell,
+ Alps overlooking Alps their state up-swell;
+ Huge Pikes of Darkness named, of Fear and Storms,
+ Lift, all serene, their still, illumined forms, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 124:
+
+1845.
+
+ --Great joy, by horror tam'd, dilates his heart,
+ And the near heavens their own delights impart. 1820.
+
+In the editions 1820-1832 this couplet preceded the four lines above
+quoted.
+
+ Fear in his breast with holy love unites,
+ And the near heavens impart their own delights. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 125:
+
+1836.
+
+ That hut which from the hills his eyes employs
+ So oft, the central point of all his joys, 1815.
+
+ ... his eye ... 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 126:
+
+1836
+
+ And as a swift, by tender cares opprest,
+ Peeps often ere she dart into her nest,
+ So to the untrodden floor, where round him looks
+ His father, helpless as the babe he rocks,
+ Oft he descends to nurse the brother pair, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 127:
+
+1820.
+
+ Where, ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 128:
+
+1836.
+
+ Rush down the living rocks with whirlwind sound. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 129:
+
+1820.
+
+ Content ... 1815. ]
+
+
+[Variant 130:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... consecrate ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 131: The following lines were erased in 1836, and in all
+subsequent editions:
+
+ "Here," cried a swain, whose venerable head
+ Bloom'd with the snow-drops of Man's narrow bed,
+ Last night, while by his dying fire, as clos'd
+ The day, in luxury my limbs repos'd,
+ Here Penury oft from misery's mount will guide
+ Ev'n to the summer door his icy tide,
+ And here the avalanche of Death destroy
+ The little cottage of domestic Joy. 1793.]
+
+ ... a Swain, upon whose hoary head
+ The "blossoms of the grave" were thinly spread, 1820.
+
+ ... a thoughtful Swain, upon whose head 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 132:
+
+1836.
+
+ But, ah! the unwilling mind ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 133:
+
+1836.
+
+ The churlish gales, that unremitting blow
+ Cold from necessity's continual snow, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 134:
+
+1836.
+
+ To us ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 135:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... a never-ceasing ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 136:
+
+1836.
+
+ The father, as his sons of strength become
+ To pay the filial debt, for food to roam, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 137:
+
+1836.
+
+ From his bare nest ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 138:
+
+1836.
+
+ His last dread pleasure! watches ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 139:
+
+1836.
+
+ When the poor heart has all its joys resigned,
+ Why does their sad remembrance cleave behind? 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 140:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell,
+ Unlocking tender thought's "memorial cell";
+ Past pleasures are transformed to mortal pains
+ And poison spreads along the listener's veins. 1820.
+
+ While poison ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 141:
+
+1836.
+
+ Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume! 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 142:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soft ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 143:
+
+1836.
+
+ Soon flies the little joy to man allowed,
+ And grief before him travels like a cloud: 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 144:
+
+1836. (Expanding four lines into six.)
+
+ For come Diseases on, and Penury's rage,
+ Labour, and Care, and Pain, and dismal Age,
+ Till, Hope-deserted, long in vain his breath
+ Implores the dreadful untried sleep of Death. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 145:
+
+1836.
+
+ A Temple stands; which holds an awful shrine, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 146:
+
+1836.
+
+ Pale, dreadful faces round the Shrine appear, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 147:
+
+1836. After this line the editions of 1815-1832 have the following
+couplet:
+
+ While strives a secret Power to hush the crowd,
+ Pain's wild rebellious burst proclaims her rights aloud,
+
+and this is followed by lines 545-6 of the final text.]
+
+
+[Variant 148:
+
+1836.
+
+From 1815 to 1832, the following two couplets followed line 546. The
+first of these was withdrawn in 1836.
+
+ Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torment meet,
+ Dire clap of hands, distracted chafe of feet;
+ While loud and dull ascends the weeping cry,
+ Surely in other thoughts contempt may die. 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 149:
+
+1836.
+
+ --The tall Sun, tiptoe ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 150:
+
+1836.
+
+ At such an hour there are who love to stray,
+ And meet the advancing Pilgrims ere the day 1820.
+
+ Now let us meet the Pilgrims ere the day
+ Close on the remnant of their weary way; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 151:
+
+1836.
+
+ For ye are drawing tow'rd that sacred floor,
+ Where the charmed worm of pain shall gnaw no more. 1820.
+
+ While they are drawing toward the sacred floor 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 152:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... for you ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 153:
+
+1836.
+
+ --Now with a tearful kiss each other greet,
+ Nor longer naked be your toil-worn feet, 1820.
+
+ There some with tearful kiss each other greet,
+ And some, with reverence, wash their toil-worn feet. 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 154:
+
+1836.
+
+ Yes I will see you when you first behold 1820.
+
+ ... ye ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 155: This couplet was added in 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 156:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... the hands ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 157:
+
+1836.
+
+ Last let us turn to where Chamouny shields, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 158:
+
+1827.
+
+ Bosomed in gloomy woods, ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 159:
+
+1836.
+
+ Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fann'd,
+ Here all the Seasons revel hand in hand. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 160:
+
+1836.
+
+ --Red stream the cottage-lights; the landscape fades,
+ Erroneous wavering mid the twilight shades.
+
+Inserted in the editions 1820 to 1832.]
+
+
+[Variant 161:
+
+1836.
+
+ Alone ascends that Mountain named of white, 1820.
+
+ Alone ascends that Hill of matchless height, 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 162:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... amid ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 163:
+
+1836.
+
+ Mysterious ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 164:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... 'mid ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 165:
+
+1836.
+
+ At such an hour I heaved a pensive sigh,
+ When roared the sullen Arve in anger by, 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 166:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... delicious ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 167:
+
+1836.
+
+ Hard lot!--for no Italian arts are thine
+ To cheat, or chear, to soften, or refine. 1820.
+
+ To soothe or cheer, ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 168:
+
+1836.
+
+ Beloved Freedom! were it mine to stray,
+ With shrill winds roaring ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 169:
+
+1836.
+
+ O'er ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 170:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing four lines into two.)
+
+ ... o'er Lugano blows;
+ In the wide ranges of many a varied round,
+ Fleet as my passage was, I still have found
+ That where proud courts their blaze of gems display,
+ The lilies of domestic joy decay, 1820.
+
+ That where despotic courts their gems display, 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 171:
+
+1836.
+
+ In thy dear ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 172: The previous three lines were added in the edition of 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 173:
+
+1836.
+
+ The casement's shed more luscious woodbine binds,
+ And to the door a neater pathway winds; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 174:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing six lines into two.)
+
+ At early morn, the careful housewife, led
+ To cull her dinner from its garden bed,
+ Of weedless herbs a healthier prospect sees,
+ While hum with busier joy her happy bees;
+ In brighter rows her table wealth aspires,
+ And laugh with merrier blaze her evening fires; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 175:
+
+1836.
+
+ Her infants' cheeks with fresher roses glow,
+ And wilder graces sport around their brow; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 176:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing four lines into two.)
+
+ By clearer taper lit, a cleanlier board
+ Receives at supper hour her tempting hoard;
+ The chamber hearth with fresher boughs is spread,
+ And whiter is the hospitable bed. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 177:
+
+1845.
+
+(Compressing four lines into two.)
+
+ And oh, fair France! though now along the shade
+ Where erst at will the grey-clad peasant strayed,
+ Gleam war's discordant garments through the trees,
+ And the red banner mocks the froward breeze; 1820.
+
+ ... discordant vestments through the trees,
+ And the red banner fluctuates in the breeze; 1827.
+
+ ... though in the rural shade
+ Where at his will, so late, the grey-clad peasant strayed,
+ Now, clothed in war's discordant garb, he sees
+ The three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze; 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 178:
+
+1836.
+
+ Though now no more thy maids their voices suit
+ To the low-warbled breath of twilight lute,
+ And, heard the pausing village hum between,
+ No solemn songstress lull the fading green, 1820.
+
+ Though martial songs have banish'd songs of love,
+ And nightingales forsake the village grove, 1827.
+
+(Compressing the four lines of 1820 into two.)]
+
+
+[Variant 179:
+
+1836.
+
+ While, as Night bids the startling uproar die,
+ Sole sound, the Sourd renews his mournful cry! 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 180:
+
+1836.
+
+ Chasing those long long dreams, ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 181:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... fainter pang ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 182:
+
+1836.
+
+ A more majestic tide [vi] the water roll'd,
+ And glowed the sun-gilt groves in richer gold. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 183:
+
+1836.
+
+(Compressing six lines into four.)
+
+ --Though Liberty shall soon, indignant, raise
+ Red on the hills his beacon's comet blaze;
+ Bid from on high his lonely cannon sound,
+ And on ten thousand hearths his shout rebound;
+ His larum-bell from village-tower to tower
+ Swing on the astounded ear its dull undying roar; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 184:
+
+1836.
+
+ Yet, yet rejoice, though Pride's perverted ire
+ Rouze Hell's own aid, and wrap thy hills on fire!
+ Lo! from the innocuous flames, a lovely birth,
+ With its own Virtues springs another earth: 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 185:
+
+1836.
+
+Lines 646-651 were previously
+
+ Nature, as in her prime, her virgin reign
+ Begins, and Love and Truth compose her train;
+ While, with a pulseless hand, and stedfast gaze,
+ Unbreathing Justice her still beam surveys. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 186:
+
+1836.
+
+(Expanding eight lines into nine.)
+
+ Oh give, great God, to Freedom's waves to ride
+ Sublime o'er Conquest, Avarice, and Pride,
+ To sweep where Pleasure decks her guilty bowers
+ And dark Oppression builds her thick-ribbed towers!
+ --Give them, beneath their breast while gladness springs
+ To brood the nations o'er with Nile-like wings;
+ And grant that every sceptred Child of clay,
+ Who cries, presumptuous, "here their tides shall stay," 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 187: This couplet was added in 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 188:
+
+1836.
+
+ Swept in their anger from the affrighted shore,
+ With all his creatures sink--to rise no more! 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 189:
+
+1845.
+
+ Be the dead load of mortal ills forgot! 1820
+
+ Be fear and joyful hope alike forgot 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 190: This couplet was added in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 191:
+
+1836.
+
+ Renewing, when the rosy summits glow
+ At morn, our various journey, sad and slow. 1820.
+
+ With lighter heart our course we may renew,
+ The first whose footsteps print the mountain dew. 1827.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-VARIANTS
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 1:
+
+ A single taper in the vale profound
+ Shifts, while the Alps dilated glimmer round; 1832.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 2:
+
+ And, ... 1832.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 3:
+
+ ... above yon ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 4:
+
+ By the deep gloom appalled, the Vagrant sighs, 1836.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 5: This couplet was cancelled in the edition of 1827.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 6:
+
+ Or on her fingers ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 7: This couplet was withdrawn in 1827.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 8:
+
+ Behind the hill ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Sub-Variant 9:
+
+ Near and yet nearer, from the piny gulf
+ Howls, by the darkness vexed, the famished wolf, 1836.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES
+
+
+[Footnote A: See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836
+(p. 1).--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: In a small pocket copy of the 'Orlando Furioso' 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this
+edition (1840). See p. 79.--Ed. [the end of the introductory text to
+'Guilt and Sorrow', the next poem in this text.]]
+
+
+[Footnote E: See Addison's 'Cato', Act 1. Scene i., l. 171:
+
+ Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote F: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote G: Compare Pope's 'Windsor Forest', ll. 129, 130;
+
+ He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye:
+ Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky:
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote H: Alluding to crosses seen on the tops of the spiry rocks of
+the Chartreuse, which have every appearance of being inaccessible.--W.
+W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote J: Compare Milton's 'Ode on the Nativity', stanza xx.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote K: Names of rivers at the Chartreuse.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote L: Name of one of the valleys of the Chartreuse.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote M: The river along whose banks you descend in crossing the
+Alps by the Simplon Pass---W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote N: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote P: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Q: Crosses commemorative of the deaths of travellers by the
+fall of snow and other accidents very common along this dreadful
+road.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote R: The houses in the more retired Swiss valleys are all built
+of wood.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote S: See Burns's 'Postscript' to his 'Cry and Prayer':
+
+ And when he fa's,
+His latest draught o' breathin' leaves him
+ In faint huzzas.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote T: 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 'Tour in Switzerland'.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote U: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote V: This picture is from the middle region of the Alps.--W. W.
+1815. _Chalets_ are summer huts for the Swiss herdsmen.--W. W. 1836.]
+
+
+[Footnote W: Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind
+through the trees.--W. W. 1793.
+
+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.]
+
+
+[Footnote X: See Smollett's 'Ode to Leven Water' in 'Humphry Clinker',
+and compare 'The Italian Itinerant and the Swiss Goatherd', in
+"Memorials of a Tour on the Continent" in 1820, part ii. 1.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote Y: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Z: As Schreck-Horn, the pike of terror. Wetter-Horn, the pike
+of storms, etc., etc.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote Aa: The effect of the famous air called in French Ranz des
+Vaches upon the Swiss troops.--W. W. 1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote Bb: 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.]
+
+[Footnote Cc: Compare the Stanzas 'Composed in one of the Catholic
+Cantons', in the "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent" (1820), which
+refer to Einsiedlen.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote Dd: Rude fountains built and covered with sheds for the
+accommodation of the pilgrims, in their ascent of the mountain.--W. W.
+1793.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ee: Compare Coleridge's 'Hymn before Sun-rise, in the Vale of
+Chamouni':
+
+ And you, ye five wild torrents fiercely glad!
+ ...
+ ... Who, with living flowers
+ Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet?
+ ...
+ O struggling with the darkness all the night,
+ And visited all night by troops of stars,
+ ...
+ The Arve and Arveiron at thy base
+ Rave ceaselessly;
+
+Compare also Shelley's 'Mont Blanc'.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ff: See note on Coleridge's 'Hymn before Sun-rise' on previous
+page.--Ed.[in Footnote Ff directly above]]
+
+
+[Footnote Gg: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Hh: 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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTES
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: In the edition of 1815, the 28 lines, from "No sad
+vacuities" to "a wanderer came there," are entitled "Pleasures of the
+Pedestrian."--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote ii: See 'Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude', l.
+54:
+
+ The meanest floweret of the vale,
+ The simplest note that swells the gale.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote iii: In the editions of 1820 to 1832 the four lines
+beginning "The Grison gypsey," etc., precede those beginning "The mind
+condemned," etc.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote iv: In the edition of 1793 Wordsworth put the following
+note:
+
+ "Red came the river down, and loud, and oft
+ The angry Spirit of the water shriek'd."
+
+(HOME'S _Douglas_.)
+
+See Act III. l. 86; or p. 32 in the edition of 1757.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote v: This and the following line are only in the editions of
+1815 and 1820.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote vi: Compare the Sonnet entitled 'The Author's Voyage down
+the Rhine, thirty years ago', in the "Memorials of a Tour on the
+Continent' in 1820, and the note appended to it.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+GUILT AND SORROW; OR, INCIDENTS UPON SALISBURY PLAIN
+
+
+Composed 1791-4.--Published as 'The Female Vagrant' in "Lyrical Ballads"
+in 1798, and as 'Guilt and Sorrow' in the "Poems of Early and Late
+Years," and in "Poems written in Youth," in 1845, and onward.
+
+
+ ADVERTISEMENT, PREFIXED TO THE FIRST EDITION OF THIS POEM, PUBLISHED
+ IN 1842.
+
+ 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 'The Female Vagrant'. 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.
+
+ 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. After leaving
+ the Isle of Wight, I spent two [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.
+
+ 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.
+
+ 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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ [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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The foregoing is the Fenwick note to 'Guilt and Sorrow'. The note to
+'The Female Vagrant',--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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ [I find the date of this is placed in 1792, in contradiction, by
+ mistake, to what I have asserted in 'Guilt and Sorrow'. 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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+In 1798 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 'The Female Vagrant' among
+his "Juvenile Pieces" from 1815 to 1832. In 1836, he included it along
+with 'Descriptive Sketches' in his Table of Contents; [B] 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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+I
+
+ A traveller on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
+ Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;
+ Stooping his gait, but not as if to gain
+ Help from the staff he bore; for mien and air
+ Were hardy, though his cheek seemed worn with care 5
+ Both of the time to come, and time long fled:
+ Down fell in straggling locks his thin grey hair;
+ A coat he wore of military red
+ But faded, and stuck o'er with many a patch and shred.
+
+
+II
+
+ While thus he journeyed, step by step led on, 10
+ He saw and passed a stately inn, full sure
+ That welcome in such house for him was none.
+ No board inscribed the needy to allure
+ Hung there, no bush proclaimed to old and poor
+ And desolate, "Here you will find a friend!" 15
+ The pendent grapes glittered above the door;--
+ On he must pace, perchance 'till night descend,
+ Where'er the dreary roads their bare white lines extend.
+
+
+III
+
+ The gathering clouds grew red with stormy fire,
+ In streaks diverging wide and mounting high; 20
+ That inn he long had passed; the distant spire,
+ Which oft as he looked back had fixed his eye,
+ Was lost, though still he looked, in the blank sky.
+ Perplexed and comfortless he gazed around,
+ And scarce could any trace of man descry, 25
+ Save cornfields stretched and stretching without bound;
+ But where the sower dwelt was nowhere to be found.
+
+
+IV
+
+ No tree was there, no meadow's pleasant green,
+ No brook to wet his lip or soothe his ear;
+ Long files of corn-stacks here and there were seen, 30
+ But not one dwelling-place his heart to cheer.
+ Some labourer, thought he, may perchance be near;
+ And so he sent a feeble shout--in vain;
+ No voice made answer, he could only hear
+ Winds rustling over plots of unripe grain, 35
+ Or whistling thro' thin grass along the unfurrowed plain.
+
+
+V
+
+ Long had he fancied each successive slope
+ Concealed some cottage, whither he might turn
+ And rest; but now along heaven's darkening cope
+ The crows rushed by in eddies, homeward borne. 40
+ Thus warned he sought some shepherd's spreading thorn
+ Or hovel from the storm to shield his head,
+ But sought in vain; for now, all wild, forlorn,
+ And vacant, a huge waste around him spread;
+ The wet cold ground, he feared, must be his only bed. 45
+
+
+VI
+
+ And be it so--for to the chill night shower
+ And the sharp wind his head he oft hath bared;
+ A Sailor he, who many a wretched hour
+ Hath told; for, landing after labour hard,
+ Full long [1] endured in hope of just reward, 50
+ He to an armed fleet was forced away
+ By seamen, who perhaps themselves had shared
+ Like fate; was hurried off, a helpless prey,
+ 'Gainst all that in _his_ heart, or theirs perhaps, said nay.
+
+
+VII
+
+ For years the work of carnage did not cease. 55
+ And death's dire aspect daily he surveyed,
+ Death's minister; then came his glad release,
+ And hope returned, and pleasure fondly made
+ Her dwelling in his dreams. By Fancy's aid
+ The happy husband flies, his arms to throw 60
+ Round his wife's neck; the prize of victory laid
+ In her full lap, he sees such sweet tears flow
+ As if thenceforth nor pain nor trouble she could know.
+
+
+VIII
+
+ Vain hope! for fraud took all that he had earned.
+ The lion roars and gluts his tawny brood 65
+ Even in the desert's heart; but he, returned,
+ Bears not to those he loves their needful food.
+ His home approaching, but in such a mood
+ That from his sight his children might have run,
+ He met a traveller, robbed him, shed his blood; 70
+ And when the miserable work was done
+ He fled, a vagrant since, the murderer's fate to shun.
+
+
+IX
+
+ From that day forth no place to him could be
+ So lonely, but that thence might come a pang
+ Brought from without to inward misery. 75
+ Now, as he plodded on, with sullen clang
+ A sound of chains along the desert rang;
+ He looked, and saw upon a gibbet high
+ A human body that in irons swang,
+ Uplifted by the tempest whirling by; 80
+ And, hovering, round it often did a raven fly. [C]
+
+
+X
+
+ It was a spectacle which none might view,
+ In spot so savage, but with shuddering pain;
+ Nor only did for him at once renew
+ All he had feared from man, but roused a train 85
+ Of the mind's phantoms, horrible as vain.
+ The stones, as if to cover him from day,
+ Rolled at his back along the living plain;
+ He fell, and without sense or motion lay;
+ But, when the trance was gone, feebly pursued [2] his way. 90
+
+
+XI
+
+ As one whose brain habitual [3] frensy fires
+ Owes to the fit in which his soul hath tossed
+ Profounder quiet, when the fit retires,
+ Even so the dire phantasma which had crossed
+ His sense, in sudden vacancy quite lost, 95
+ Left his mind still as a deep evening stream.
+ Nor, if accosted now, in thought engrossed,
+ Moody, or inly troubled, would he seem
+ To traveller who might talk of any casual theme.
+
+
+XII
+
+ Hurtle the clouds in deeper darkness piled, 100
+ Gone is the raven timely rest to seek;
+ He seemed the only creature in the wild
+ On whom the elements their rage might wreak;
+ Save that the bustard, of those regions bleak
+ Shy tenant, seeing by the uncertain light 105
+ A man there wandering, gave a mournful shriek,
+ And half upon the ground, with strange affright,
+ Forced hard against the wind a thick unwieldy flight.
+
+
+XIII
+
+ All, all was cheerless to the horizon's bound;
+ The weary eye--which, wheresoe'er it strays, 110
+ Marks nothing but the red sun's setting round,
+ Or on the earth strange lines, in former days
+ Left by gigantic arms--at length surveys
+ What seems an antique castle spreading wide;
+ Hoary and naked are its walls, and raise 115
+ Their brow sublime: in shelter there to bide
+ He turned, while rain poured down smoking on every side.
+
+
+XIV
+
+ Pile of Stone-henge! so proud to hint yet keep
+ Thy secrets, thou that lov'st to stand and hear
+ The Plain resounding to the whirlwind's sweep, 120
+ Inmate of lonesome Nature's endless year;
+ Even if thou saw'st the giant wicker rear
+ For sacrifice its throngs of living men,
+ Before thy face did ever wretch appear,
+ Who in his heart had groaned with deadlier pain 125
+ Than he who, tempest-driven, thy shelter now would gain? [4]
+
+XV
+
+ Within that fabric of mysterious form,
+ Winds met in conflict, each by turns supreme;
+ And, from the perilous ground dislodged, [5] through storm
+ And rain he wildered on, no moon to stream 130
+ From gulf of parting clouds one friendly beam,
+ Nor any friendly sound his footsteps led;
+ Once did the lightning's faint disastrous gleam
+ Disclose a naked guide-post's double head,
+ Sight which tho' lost at once a gleam of pleasure shed. 135
+
+
+XVI
+
+ No swinging sign-board creaked from cottage elm
+ To stay his steps with faintness overcome;
+ 'Twas dark and void as ocean's watery realm
+ Roaring with storms beneath night's starless gloom;
+ No gipsy cower'd o'er fire of furze or broom; 140
+ No labourer watched his red kiln glaring bright,
+ Nor taper glimmered dim from sick man's room;
+ Along the waste no line of mournful light
+ From lamp of lonely toll-gate streamed athwart the night.
+
+
+XVII
+
+ At length, though hid in clouds, the moon arose; 145
+ The downs were visible--and now revealed
+ A structure stands, which two bare slopes enclose.
+ It was a spot, where, ancient vows fulfilled,
+ Kind pious hands did to the Virgin build
+ A lonely Spital, the belated swain 150
+ From the night terrors of that waste to shield:
+ But there no human being could remain,
+ And now the walls are named the "Dead House" of the plain.
+
+
+XVIII
+
+ Though he had little cause to love the abode
+ Of man, or covet sight of mortal face, 155
+ Yet when faint beams of light that ruin showed,
+ How glad he was at length to find some trace
+ Of human shelter in that dreary place.
+ Till to his flock the early shepherd goes,
+ Here shall much-needed sleep his frame embrace. 160
+ In a dry nook where fern the floor bestrows
+ He lays his stiffened limbs,--his eyes begin to close;
+
+
+XIX
+
+ When hearing a deep sigh, that seemed to come
+ From one who mourned in sleep, he raised his head,
+ And saw a woman in the naked room 165
+ Outstretched, and turning on a restless bed:
+ The moon a wan dead light around her shed.
+ He waked her--spake in tone that would not fail,
+ He hoped, to calm her mind; but ill he sped,
+ For of that ruin she had heard a tale 170
+ Which now with freezing thoughts did all her powers assail;
+
+
+XX
+
+ Had heard of one who, forced from storms to shroud,
+ Felt the loose walls of this decayed Retreat
+ Rock to incessant neighings shrill and loud,
+ While his horse pawed the floor with furious heat; 175
+ Till on a stone, that sparkled to his feet,
+ Struck, and still struck again, the troubled horse:
+ The man half raised the stone with pain and sweat,
+ Half raised, for well his arm might lose its force
+ Disclosing the grim head of a late murdered corse. 180
+
+
+XXI
+
+ Such tale of this lone mansion she had learned,
+ And, when that shape, with eyes in sleep half drowned,
+ By the moon's sullen lamp she first discerned,
+ Cold stony horror all her senses bound.
+ Her he addressed in words of cheering sound; 185
+ Recovering heart, like answer did she make;
+ And well it was that, of the corse there found,
+ In converse that ensued she nothing spake;
+ She knew not what dire pangs in him such tale could wake.
+
+
+XXII
+
+ But soon his voice and words of kind intent 190
+ Banished that dismal thought; and now the wind
+ In fainter howlings told its _rage_ was spent:
+ Meanwhile discourse ensued of various kind,
+ Which by degrees a confidence of mind
+ And mutual interest failed not to create. 195
+ And, to a natural sympathy resigned,
+ In that forsaken building where they sate
+ The Woman thus retraced her own untoward fate.
+ [6]
+
+
+XXIII
+
+ "By Derwent's side my father dwelt--a man
+ Of virtuous life, by pious parents bred; [7] 200
+ And I believe that, soon as I began
+ To lisp, he made me kneel beside my bed,
+ And in his hearing there my prayers I said:
+ And afterwards, by my good father taught,
+ I read, and loved the books in which I read; 205
+ For books in every neighbouring house I sought,
+ And nothing to my mind a sweeter pleasure brought.
+
+
+XXIV [8]
+
+ "A little croft we owned--a plot of corn,
+ A garden stored with peas, and mint, and thyme,
+ And flowers for posies, oft on Sunday morn 210
+ Plucked while the church bells rang their earliest chime.
+ Can I forget our freaks at shearing time!
+ My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;
+ The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime;
+ The swans that with white chests upreared in pride 215
+ Rushing and racing came to meet me at the water-side! [9]
+
+
+XXV
+
+ "The staff I well [10] remember which upbore
+ The bending body of my active sire;
+ His seat beneath the honied sycamore
+ Where [11] the bees hummed, and chair by winter fire; 220
+ When market-morning came, the neat attire
+ With which, though bent on haste, myself I decked;
+ Our watchful house-dog, that would tease and tire
+ The stranger till its barking-fit I checked; [12]
+ The red-breast, known for years, which at my casement pecked. 225
+
+
+XXVI
+
+ "The suns of twenty summers danced along,--
+ Too little marked how fast they rolled away:
+ But, through severe mischance and cruel wrong,
+ My father's substance fell into decay:
+ We toiled and struggled, hoping for a day 230
+ When Fortune might [13] put on a kinder look;
+ But vain were wishes, efforts vain as they;
+ He from his old hereditary nook
+ Must part; the summons [14] came;--our final leave we took. [15]
+ [16]
+
+
+XXVII
+
+ "It was indeed a miserable hour [17] 235
+ When, from the last hill-top, my sire surveyed,
+ Peering above the trees, the steeple tower
+ That on his marriage day sweet music made!
+ Till then, he hoped his bones might there be laid
+ Close by my mother in their native bowers: 240
+ Bidding me trust in God, he stood and prayed;--
+ I could not pray:--through tears that fell in showers
+ Glimmered our dear-loved home, alas! no longer ours! [18]
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+ "There was a Youth whom I had loved so long,
+ That when I loved him not I cannot say: 245
+ 'Mid the green mountains many a thoughtless song [19]
+ We two had sung, like gladsome birds [20] in May;
+ When we began to tire of childish play,
+ We seemed still more and more to prize each other;
+ We talked of marriage and our marriage day; 250
+ And I in truth did love him like a brother,
+ For never could I hope to meet with such another.
+
+
+XXIX
+
+ "Two years were passed since to a distant town
+ He had repaired to ply a gainful trade: [21]
+ What tears of bitter grief, till then unknown! 255
+ What tender vows our last sad kiss delayed!
+ To him we turned:--we had no other aid:
+ Like one revived, upon his neck I wept;
+ And her whom he had loved in joy, he said,
+ He well could love in grief; his faith he kept; 260
+ And in a quiet home once more my father slept.
+
+
+XXX
+
+ "We lived in peace and comfort; and were blest
+ With daily bread, by constant toil supplied. [22]
+ Three lovely babes had lain upon my breast; [23]
+ And often, viewing their sweet smiles, I sighed, 265
+ And knew not why. My happy father died,
+ When threatened war [24] reduced the children's meal:
+ Thrice happy! that for him the grave could hide [25]
+ The empty loom, cold hearth, and silent wheel,
+ And tears that [26] flowed for ills which patience might [27] 270
+ not heal.
+
+
+XXXI
+
+ "'Twas a hard change; an evil time was come;
+ We had no hope, and no relief could gain:
+ But soon, with proud parade, [28] the noisy drum
+ Beat round to clear [29] the streets of want and pain.
+ My husband's arms now only served to strain 275
+ Me and his children hungering in his view;
+ In such dismay my prayers and tears were vain:
+ To join those miserable men he flew,
+ And now to the sea-coast, with numbers more, we drew.
+
+
+XXXII
+
+ "There were we long neglected, and we bore 280
+ Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weighed [30]
+ Green fields before us, and our native shore,
+ We breathed a pestilential air, that made
+ Ravage for which no knell was heard. We prayed
+ For our departure; wished and wished--nor knew, 285
+ 'Mid that long sickness and those hopes delayed, [31]
+ That happier days we never more must view.
+ The parting signal streamed--at last the land withdrew.
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+ "But the calm summer season now was past. [32]
+ On as we drove, the equinoctial deep 290
+ Ran mountains high before the howling blast,
+ And many perished in the whirlwind's sweep.
+ We gazed with terror on their gloomy sleep, [33]
+ Untaught that soon such anguish must ensue,
+ Our hopes such harvest of affliction reap, 295
+ That we the mercy of the waves should rue:
+ We reached the western world, a poor devoted crew.
+ [34]
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+ "The pains and plagues that on our heads came down,
+ Disease and famine, agony and fear,
+ In wood or wilderness, in camp or town, 300
+ It would unman the firmest heart to hear. [35]
+ All perished--all in one remorseless year,
+ Husband and children! one by one, by sword
+ And ravenous plague, all perished: every tear
+ Dried up, despairing, desolate, on board 305
+ A British ship I waked, as from a trance restored."
+
+
+XXXV
+
+ Here paused she of all present thought forlorn,
+ Nor voice, nor sound, that moment's pain expressed,
+ Yet Nature, with excess of grief o'erborne,
+ From her full eyes their watery load released. 310
+ He too was mute: and, ere her weeping ceased,
+ He rose, and to the ruin's portal went,
+ And saw the dawn opening the silvery east
+ With rays of promise, north and southward sent;
+ And soon with crimson fire kindled the firmament. 315
+
+
+XXXVI
+
+ "O come," he cried, "come, after weary night
+ Of such rough storm, this happy change to view."
+ So forth she came, and eastward looked; the sight
+ Over her brow like dawn of gladness threw;
+ Upon her cheek, to which its youthful hue 320
+ Seemed to return, dried the last lingering tear,
+ And from her grateful heart a fresh one drew:
+ The whilst her comrade to her pensive cheer
+ Tempered fit words of hope; and the lark warbled near.
+
+
+XXXVII
+
+ They looked and saw a lengthening road, and wain 325
+ That rang down a bare slope not far remote:
+ The barrows glistered bright with drops of rain,
+ Whistled the waggoner with merry note,
+ The cock far off sounded his clarion throat;
+ But town, or farm, or hamlet, none they viewed, 330
+ Only were told there stood a lonely cot
+ A long mile thence. While thither they pursued
+ Their way, the Woman thus her mournful tale renewed.
+
+
+XXXVIII
+
+ "Peaceful as this immeasurable plain
+ Is now, by beams of dawning light imprest, [36] 335
+ In the calm sunshine slept the glittering main;
+ The very ocean hath its hour of rest.
+ I too forgot the heavings of my breast. [37]
+ How quiet 'round me ship and ocean were!
+ As quiet all within me. I was blest, 340
+ And looked, and fed upon the silent air
+ Until it seemed to bring a joy to my despair.[38]
+
+
+XXXIX
+
+ "Ah! how unlike those late terrific sleeps,
+ And groans that rage of racking famine spoke;
+ The unburied dead that lay in festering heaps,[39] 345
+ The breathing pestilence that rose like smoke,
+ The shriek that from the distant battle broke,
+ The mine's dire earthquake, and the pallid host
+ Driven by the bomb's incessant thunder-stroke
+ To loathsome vaults, where heart-sick anguish tossed, 350
+ Hope died, and fear itself in agony was lost!
+ [40]
+
+
+XL
+
+ "Some mighty gulf of separation passed,
+ I seemed transported to another world;
+ A thought resigned with pain, when from the mast
+ The impatient mariner the sail unfurled, 355
+ And, whistling, called the wind that hardly curled
+ The silent sea. From the sweet thoughts of home
+ And from all hope I was for ever hurled.
+ For me--farthest from earthly port to roam
+ Was best, could I but shun the spot where man might come. 360
+
+
+XLI
+
+ "And oft I thought (my fancy was so strong)
+ That I, at last, a resting-place had found;
+ 'Here will I dwell,' said I, 'my whole life long, [41]
+ Roaming the illimitable waters round;
+ Here will I live, of all but heaven disowned, 365
+ And end my days upon the peaceful flood.'--[42]
+ To break my dream the vessel reached its bound;
+ And homeless near a thousand homes I stood,
+ And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.
+
+
+XLII
+
+ "No help I sought; in sorrow turned adrift, 370
+ Was hopeless, as if cast on some bare rock; [43]
+ Nor morsel to my mouth that day did lift,
+ Nor raised [44] my hand at any door to knock.
+ I lay where, with his drowsy mates, the cock
+ From the cross-timber of an out-house hung: 375
+ Dismally [45] tolled, that night, the city clock!
+ At morn my sick heart hunger scarcely stung,
+ Nor to the beggar's language could I fit [46] my tongue.
+
+
+XLIII
+
+ "So passed a second day; and, when the third
+ Was come, I tried in vain the crowd's resort. [47] 380
+ --In deep despair, by frightful wishes stirred,
+ Near the sea-side I reached a ruined fort;
+ There, pains which nature could no more support,
+ With blindness linked, did on my vitals fall;
+ And, after many interruptions short [48] 385
+ Of hideous sense, I sank, [49] nor step could crawl:
+ Unsought for was the help that did my life recal. [50]
+
+
+XLIV
+
+ "Borne to a hospital, I lay with brain
+ Drowsy and weak, and shattered memory; [51]
+ I heard my neighbours in their beds complain 390
+ Of many things which never troubled me--
+ Of feet still bustling round with busy glee,
+ Of looks where common kindness had no part,
+ Of service done with cold formality, [52]
+ Fretting the fever round the languid heart, 395
+ And groans which, as they said, might [53] make a dead man
+ start.
+
+
+XLV
+
+ "These things just served to stir the slumbering [54] sense,
+ Nor pain nor pity in my bosom raised.
+ With strength did memory return; [55] and, thence
+ Dismissed, again on open day I gazed, 400
+ At houses, men, and common light, amazed.
+ The lanes I sought, and, as the sun retired,
+ Came where beneath the trees a faggot blazed;
+ The travellers [56] saw me weep, my fate inquired,
+ And gave me food--and rest, more welcome, more desired. 405
+ [57]
+
+
+XLVI
+
+ "Rough potters seemed they, trading soberly
+ With panniered asses driven from door to door;
+ But life of happier sort set forth to me, [58]
+ And other joys my fancy to allure--
+ The bag-pipe dinning on the midnight moor 410
+ In barn uplighted; and companions boon,
+ Well met from far with revelry secure
+ Among the forest glades, while jocund June [59]
+ Rolled fast along the sky his warm and genial moon.
+
+
+XLVII
+
+ "But ill they suited me--those journeys dark [60] 415
+ O'er moor and mountain, midnight theft to hatch!
+ To charm the surly house-dog's faithful bark,
+ Or hang on tip-toe at the lifted latch.
+ The gloomy lantern, and the dim blue match.
+ The black disguise, the warning whistle shrill, 420
+ And ear still busy on its nightly watch,
+ Were not for me, brought up in nothing ill:
+ Besides, on griefs so fresh my thoughts were brooding still.
+
+
+XLVIII
+
+ "What could I do, unaided and unblest?
+ My [61] father! gone was every friend of thine: 425
+ And kindred of dead husband are at best
+ Small help; and, after marriage such as mine,
+ With little kindness would to me incline.
+ Nor was I [62] then for toil or service fit;
+ My deep-drawn sighs no effort could confine; 430
+ In open air forgetful would I sit [63]
+ Whole hours, with [64] idle arms in moping sorrow knit.
+
+
+XLIX
+
+ "The roads I paced, I loitered through the fields;
+ Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
+ Trusted my life to what chance bounty yields, [65] 435
+ Now coldly given, now utterly refused.
+ The ground [66] I for my bed have often used:
+ But what afflicts my peace with keenest ruth,
+ Is that I have my inner self abused,
+ Forgone the home delight of constant truth, 440
+ And clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth.
+
+
+L
+
+ "Through tears the rising sun I oft have viewed,
+ Through tears have seen him towards that world descend [67]
+ Where my poor heart lost all its fortitude:
+ Three years a wanderer now my course I bend--[68] 445
+ Oh! tell me whither--for no earthly friend
+ Have I."--She ceased, and weeping turned away;
+ As if because her tale was at an end,
+ She wept; because she had no more to say
+ Of that perpetual weight which on her spirit lay. 450
+
+
+LI
+
+ True sympathy the Sailor's looks expressed,
+ His looks--for pondering he was mute the while.
+ Of social Order's care for wretchedness,
+ Of Time's sure help to calm and reconcile,
+ Joy's second spring and Hope's long-treasured smile, 455
+ 'Twas not for _him_ to speak--a man so tried.
+ Yet, to relieve her heart, in friendly style
+ Proverbial words of comfort he applied,
+ And not in vain, while they went pacing side by side.
+
+
+LII
+
+ Ere long, from heaps of turf, before their sight, 460
+ Together smoking in the sun's slant beam,
+ Rise various wreaths that into one unite
+ Which high and higher mounts with silver gleam:
+ Fair spectacle,--but instantly a scream
+ Thence bursting shrill did all remark prevent; 465
+ They paused, and heard a hoarser voice blaspheme,
+ And female cries. Their course they thither bent,
+ And met a man who foamed with anger vehement.
+
+
+LIII
+
+ A woman stood with quivering lips and pale,
+ And, pointing to a little child that lay 470
+ Stretched on the ground, began a piteous tale;
+ How in a simple freak of thoughtless play
+ He had provoked his father, who straightway,
+ As if each blow were deadlier than the last,
+ Struck the poor innocent. Pallid with dismay 475
+ The Soldier's Widow heard and stood aghast;
+ And stern looks on the man her grey-haired Comrade cast.
+
+
+LIV
+
+ His voice with indignation rising high
+ Such further deed in manhood's name forbade;
+ The peasant, wild in passion, made reply 480
+ With bitter insult and revilings sad;
+ Asked him in scorn what business there he had;
+ What kind of plunder he was hunting now;
+ The gallows would one day of him be glad;--
+ Though inward anguish damped the Sailor's brow, 485
+ Yet calm he seemed as thoughts so poignant would allow.
+
+
+LV
+
+ Softly he stroked the child, who lay outstretched
+ With face to earth; and, as the boy turned round
+ His battered head, a groan the Sailor fetched
+ As if he saw--there and upon that ground-- 490
+ Strange repetition of the deadly wound
+ He had himself inflicted. Through his brain
+ At once the griding iron passage found; [D]
+ Deluge of tender thoughts then rushed amain,
+ Nor could his sunken eyes the starting tear restrain. 495
+
+
+LVI
+
+ Within himself he said--What hearts have we!
+ The blessing this a father gives his child!
+ Yet happy thou, poor boy! compared with me,
+ Suffering not doing ill--fate far more mild.
+ The stranger's looks and tears of wrath beguiled 500
+ The father, and relenting thoughts awoke;
+ He kissed his son--so all was reconciled.
+ Then, with a voice which inward trouble broke
+ Ere to his lips it came, the Sailor them bespoke.
+
+
+LVII
+
+ "Bad is the world, and hard is the world's law 505
+ Even for the man who wears the warmest fleece;
+ Much need have ye that time more closely draw
+ The bond of nature, all unkindness cease,
+ And that among so few there still be peace:
+ Else can ye hope but with such numerous foes 510
+ Your pains shall ever with your years increase?"--
+ While from his heart the appropriate lesson flows,
+ A correspondent calm stole gently o'er his woes.
+
+
+LVIII
+
+
+ Forthwith the pair passed on; and down they look
+ Into a narrow valley's pleasant scene 515
+ Where wreaths of vapour tracked a winding brook,
+ That babbled on through groves and meadows green;
+ A low-roofed house peeped out the trees between;
+ The dripping groves resound with cheerful lays,
+ And melancholy lowings intervene 520
+ Of scattered herds, that in the meadow graze,
+ Some amid lingering shade, some touched by the sun's rays.
+
+
+LIX
+
+ They saw and heard, and, winding with the road
+ Down a thick wood, they dropt into the vale;
+ Comfort by prouder mansions unbestowed 525
+ Their wearied frames, she hoped, would soon regale.
+ Erelong they reached that cottage in the dale:
+ It was a rustic inn;--the board was spread,
+ The milk-maid followed with her brimming pail,
+ And lustily the master carved the bread, 530
+ Kindly the housewife pressed, and they in comfort fed.
+
+
+LX
+
+
+ Their breakfast done, the pair, though loth, must part;
+ Wanderers whose course no longer now agrees.
+ She rose and bade farewell! and, while her heart
+ Struggled with tears nor could its sorrow ease, 535
+ She left him there; for, clustering round his knees,
+ With his oak-staff the cottage children played;
+ And soon she reached a spot o'erhung with trees
+ And banks of ragged earth; beneath the shade
+ Across the pebbly road a little runnel strayed. 540
+
+
+LXI
+
+ A cart and horse beside the rivulet stood;
+ Chequering the canvas roof the sunbeams shone.
+ She saw the carman bend to scoop the flood
+ As the wain fronted her,--wherein lay one,
+ A pale-faced Woman, in disease far gone. 545
+ The carman wet her lips as well behoved;
+ Bed under her lean body there was none,
+ Though even to die near one she most had loved
+ She could not of herself those wasted limbs have moved.
+
+
+LXII
+
+ The Soldier's Widow learned with honest pain 550
+ And homefelt force of sympathy sincere,
+ Why thus that worn-out wretch must there sustain
+ The jolting road and morning air severe.
+ The wain pursued its way; and following near
+ In pure compassion she her steps retraced 555
+ Far as the cottage. "A sad sight is here,"
+ She cried aloud; and forth ran out in haste
+ The friends whom she had left but a few minutes past.
+
+
+LXIII
+
+ While to the door with eager speed they ran,
+ From her bare straw the Woman half upraised 560
+ Her bony visage--gaunt and deadly wan;
+ No pity asking, on the group she gazed
+ With a dim eye, distracted and amazed;
+ Then sank upon her straw with feeble moan.
+ Fervently cried the housewife--"God be praised, 565
+ I have a house that I can call my own;
+ Nor shall she perish there, untended and alone!"
+
+
+LXIV
+
+ So in they bear her to the chimney seat,
+ And busily, though yet with fear, untie
+ Her garments, and, to warm her icy feet 570
+ And chafe her temples, careful hands apply.
+ Nature reviving, with a deep-drawn sigh
+ She strove, and not in vain, her head to rear;
+ Then said--"I thank you all; if I must die,
+ The God in heaven my prayers for you will hear; 575
+ Till now I did not think my end had been so near.
+
+
+LXV
+
+ "Barred every comfort labour could procure,
+ Suffering what no endurance could assuage,
+ I was compelled to seek my father's door,
+ Though loth to be a burthen on his age. 580
+ But sickness stopped me in an early stage
+ Of my sad journey; and within the wain
+ They placed me--there to end life's pilgrimage,
+ Unless beneath your roof I may remain:
+ For I shall never see my father's door again. 585
+
+
+LXVI
+
+ "My life, Heaven knows, hath long been burthensome;
+ But, if I have not meekly suffered, meek
+ May my end be! Soon will this voice be dumb:
+ Should child of mine e'er wander hither, speak
+ Of me, say that the worm is on my cheek.-- 590
+ Torn from our hut, that stood beside the sea
+ Near Portland lighthouse in a lonesome creek,
+ My husband served in sad captivity
+ On shipboard, bound till peace or death should set him free.
+
+
+LXVII
+
+ "A sailor's wife I knew a widow's cares, 595
+ Yet two sweet little ones partook my bed;
+ Hope cheered my dreams, and to my daily prayers
+ Our heavenly Father granted each day's bread;
+ Till one was found by stroke of violence dead,
+ Whose body near our cottage chanced to lie; 600
+ A dire suspicion drove us from our shed;
+ In vain to find a friendly face we try,
+ Nor could we live together those poor boys and I;
+
+
+LXVIII
+
+ "For evil tongues made oath how on that day
+ My husband lurked about the neighbourhood; 605
+ Now he had fled, and whither none could say,
+ And _he_ had done the deed in the dark wood--
+ Near his own home!--but he was mild and good;
+ Never on earth was gentler creature seen;
+ He'd not have robbed the raven of its food. 610
+ My husband's loving kindness stood between
+ Me and all worldly harms and wrongs however keen."
+
+
+LXIX
+
+ Alas! the thing she told with labouring breath
+ The Sailor knew too well. That wickedness
+ His hand had wrought; and when, in the hour of death, 615
+ He saw his Wife's lips move his name to bless
+ With her last words, unable to suppress
+ His anguish, with his heart he ceased to strive;
+ And, weeping loud in this extreme distress,
+ He cried--"Do pity me! That thou shouldst live 620
+ I neither ask nor wish--forgive me, but forgive!"
+
+
+LXX
+
+ To tell the change that Voice within her wrought
+ Nature by sign or sound made no essay;
+ A sudden joy surprised expiring thought,
+ And every mortal pang dissolved away. 625
+ Borne gently to a bed, in death she lay;
+ Yet still while over her the husband bent,
+ A look was in her face which seemed to say,
+ "Be blest: by sight of thee from heaven was sent
+ Peace to my parting soul, the fulness of content." 630
+
+
+LXXI
+
+ _She_ slept in peace,--his pulses throbbed and stopped,
+ Breathless he gazed upon her face,--then took
+ Her hand in his, and raised it, but both dropped,
+ When on his own he cast a rueful look.
+ His ears were never silent; sleep forsook 635
+ His burning eyelids stretched and stiff as lead;
+ All night from time to time under him shook
+ The floor as he lay shuddering on his bed;
+ And oft he groaned aloud, "O God, that I were dead!"
+
+
+LXXII
+
+ The Soldier's Widow lingered in the cot; 640
+ And, when he rose, he thanked her pious care
+ Through which his Wife, to that kind shelter brought,
+ Died in his arms; and with those thanks a prayer
+ He breathed for her, and for that merciful pair.
+ The corse interred, not one hour he remained 645
+ Beneath their roof, but to the open air
+ A burthen, now with fortitude sustained,
+ He bore within a breast where dreadful quiet reigned.
+
+
+LXXIII
+
+ Confirmed of purpose, fearlessly prepared
+ For act and suffering, to the city straight 650
+ He journeyed, and forthwith his crime declared:
+ "And from your doom," he added, "now I wait,
+ Nor let it linger long, the murderer's fate."
+ Not ineffectual was that piteous claim:
+ "O welcome sentence which will end though late," 655
+ He said, "the pangs that to my conscience came
+ Out of that deed. My trust, Saviour! is in thy name!"
+
+
+LXXIV
+
+ His fate was pitied. Him in iron case
+ (Reader, forgive the intolerable thought)
+ They hung not:--no one on _his_ form or face 660
+ Could gaze, as on a show by idlers sought;
+ No kindred sufferer, to his death-place brought
+ By lawless curiosity or chance,
+ When into storm the evening sky is wrought,
+ Upon his swinging corse an eye can glance, 665
+ And drop, as he once dropped, in miserable trance.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1845.
+
+ Three years ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... rose and pursued ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... demoniac ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1845.
+
+ Than he who now at night-fall treads thy bare domain! 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1845.
+
+ And, from its perilous shelter driven, ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 6: The following stanza was only in the editions of 1798 and
+1800:
+
+ By Derwent's side my Father's cottage stood,
+ (The Woman thus her artless story told)
+ One field, a flock, and what the neighbouring flood
+ Supplied, to him were more than mines of gold.
+ Light was my sleep; my days in transport roll'd:
+ With thoughtless joy I stretch'd along the shore
+ My father's nets, or watched, when from the fold
+ High o'er the cliffs I led my fleecy store,
+ A dizzy depth below! his boat and twinkling oar. 1798.
+
+ ... or from the mountain fold
+ Saw on the distant lake his twinkling oar
+ Or watch'd his lazy boat still less'ning more and more. 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1842.
+
+ My father was a good and pious man,
+ An honest man by honest parents bred, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8: Stanzas XXIV. and XXV. were omitted from the editions of
+1802 and 1805. They were restored in 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1842.
+
+ Can I forget what charms did once adorn
+ My garden, stored with pease, and mint, and thyme,
+ And rose and lilly for the sabbath morn?
+ The sabbath bells, and their delightful chime;
+ The gambols and wild freaks at shearing time;
+ My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;
+ The cowslip-gathering at May's dewy prime;
+ The swans, that, when I sought the water-side,
+ From far to meet me came, spreading their snowy pride. 1798.
+
+ Can I forget our croft and plot of corn;
+ Our garden, stored ... 1836.
+
+ The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime; 1820.
+
+ The swans, that with white chests upheaved in pride,
+ Rushing and racing came to meet me at the waterside. 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1842.
+
+ ... yet ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1802.
+
+ When ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1836.
+
+ My watchful dog, whose starts of furious ire,
+ When stranger passed, so often I have check'd; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... would ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... summer ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1845.
+
+ The suns of twenty summers danced along,--
+ Ah! little marked, how fast they rolled away:
+ Then rose a mansion proud our woods among,
+ And cottage after cottage owned its sway,
+ No joy to see a neighbouring house, or stray
+ Through pastures not his own, the master took;
+ My Father dared his greedy wish gainsay;
+ He loved his old hereditary nook,
+ And ill could I the thought of such sad parting brook. 1798.
+
+ Then rose a stately hall our woods among, 1800.
+
+ ... how fast they rolled away:
+ But, through severe mischance, and cruel wrong,
+ My father's substance fell into decay;
+ We toiled, and struggled--hoping for a day
+ When Fortune should put on a kinder look;
+ But vain were wishes--efforts vain as they:
+ He from his old hereditary nook
+ Must part,--the summons came,--our final leave we took. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 16: The following stanza occurs only in the editions 1798 to
+1805:
+
+ But, when he had refused the proffered gold,
+ To cruel injuries he became a prey,
+ Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:
+ His troubles grew upon him day by day,
+ Till all his substance fell into decay.
+ His little range of water was denied; [i]
+ All but the bed where his old body lay,
+ All, all was seized, and weeping, side by side,
+ We sought a home where we uninjured might abide. 1798.
+
+ And all his substance fell into decay.
+ They dealt most hardly with him, and he tried
+ To move their hearts--but it was vain--for they
+ Seized all he had; and, weeping ... 1802-5.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1820.
+
+ Can I forget that miserable hour, 1798.
+
+ It was in truth a lamentable hour 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1798.
+
+ I saw our own dear home, that was ... 1802.
+
+The edition of 1820 returns to the text of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... many and many a song 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... little birds ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1836.
+
+ His father said, that to a distant town
+ He must repair, to ply the artist's trade. 1798.
+
+ Two years were pass'd, since to a distant Town
+ He had repair'd to ply the artist's trade. 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 22:
+
+1802.
+
+ Four years each day with daily bread was blest,
+ By constant toil and constant prayer supplied. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1836.
+
+ Three lovely infants lay upon my breast; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 24:
+
+1842.
+
+ When sad distress... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 25:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... from him the grave did hide 1798.
+
+ ... for him ... 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 26:
+
+1798.
+
+ ... which ... Only in 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 27:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... could ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 28:
+
+1798.
+
+ But soon, day after day, ... 1802.
+
+The edition of 1820 reverts to the reading of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 29:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... to sweep ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 30:
+
+1836.
+
+ There foul neglect for months and months we bore,
+ Nor yet the crowded fleet its anchor stirred. 1798.
+
+ There, long were we neglected, and we bore
+ Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weigh'd; 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 31:
+
+1802.
+
+ Green fields before us and our native shore,
+ By fever, from polluted air incurred,
+ Ravage was made, for which no knell was heard.
+ Fondly we wished, and wished away, nor knew,
+ 'Mid that long sickness, and those hopes deferr'd, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 32:
+
+1802.
+
+ But from delay the summer calms were past. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 33:
+
+1802.
+
+ We gazed with terror on the gloomy sleep
+ Of them that perished in the whirlwind's sweep, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 34:
+
+ Oh! dreadful price of being to resign
+ All that is dear _in_ being! better far
+ In Want's most lonely cave till death to pine,
+ Unseen, unheard, unwatched by any star;
+ Or in the streets and walks where proud men are,
+ Better our dying bodies to obtrude,
+ Than dog-like, wading at the heels of war,
+ Protract a curst existence, with the brood
+ That lap (their very nourishment!) their brother's blood.
+
+Only in the editions of 1798 and 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 35:
+
+1842.
+
+ It would thy brain unsettle even to hear. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 36:
+
+1842.
+
+ Peaceful as some immeasurable plain
+ By the first beams of dawning light impress'd, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 37:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... has its hour of rest,
+ That comes not to the human mourner's breast. 1798.
+
+ I too was calm, though heavily distress'd! 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 38:
+
+1842.
+
+ Remote from man, and storms of mortal care,
+ A heavenly silence did the waves invest;
+ I looked and looked along the silent air,
+ Until it seemed to bring a joy to my despair. 1798.
+
+ Oh me, how quiet sky and ocean were!
+ My heart was healed within me, I was bless'd.
+ And looked, and looked ... 1802.
+
+ My heart was hushed within me, ... 1815.
+
+ As quiet all within me, ... 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 39:
+
+1800.
+
+ Where looks inhuman dwelt on festering heaps! 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 40: The following stanza appeared only in the editions
+1798-1805:
+
+ Yet does that burst of woe congeal my frame,
+ When the dark streets appeared to heave and gape,
+ While like a sea the storming army came,
+ And Fire from Hell reared his gigantic shape,
+ And Murder, by the ghastly gleam, and Rape
+ Seized their joint prey, the mother and the child!
+ But from these crazing thoughts my brain, escape!
+ --For weeks the balmy air breathed soft and mild,
+ And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. 1798.
+
+ At midnight once the storming Army came,
+ Yet do I see the miserable sight,
+ The Bayonet, the Soldier, and the Flame
+ That followed us and faced us in our flight:
+ When Rape and Murder by the ghastly light
+ Seized their joint prey, the Mother and the Child!
+ But I must leave these thoughts.--From night to night,
+ From day to day, the air breathed soft and mild;
+ And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. 1802-5.]
+
+
+[Variant 41:
+
+1802.
+
+ And oft, robb'd of my perfect mind, I thought
+ At last my feet a resting-place had found:
+ Here will I weep in peace, (so fancy wrought,) 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 42:
+
+1842.
+
+ Here watch, of every human friend disowned,
+ All day, my ready tomb the ocean-flood-- 1798.
+
+ Here will I live:--of every friend disown'd,
+ Here will I roam about the ocean flood.-- 1802.
+
+ And end my days upon the ocean flood."-- 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 43:
+
+1842.
+
+ By grief enfeebled was I turned adrift,
+ Helpless as sailor cast on desart rock; 1798.
+
+ Helpless as sailor cast on some bare rock; 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 44:
+
+1842.
+
+ Nor dared ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 45:
+
+1802.
+
+ How dismal ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 46:
+
+1832.
+
+ ... frame ... 1798.]
+
+[Variant 47:
+
+1836.
+
+ So passed another day, and so the third:
+ Then did I try, in vain, the crowd's resort, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 48:
+
+1827.
+
+ Dizzy my brain, with interruption short 1798.
+
+ And I had many interruptions short 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 49:
+
+1802.
+
+ ... sunk ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 50:
+
+1827.
+
+ And thence was borne away to neighbouring hospital. 1798.
+
+ And thence was carried to a neighbouring Hospital. 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 51:
+
+1827.
+
+ Recovery came with food: but still, my brain
+ Was weak, nor of the past had memory. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 52:
+
+1842.
+
+ ... with careless cruelty, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 53:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... would ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 54:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... torpid ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 55:
+
+1827.
+
+ Memory, though slow, returned with strength; ... 1798.
+
+ My memory and my strength returned; ... 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 56:
+
+1802.
+
+ The wild brood ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 57: The following stanza occurs only in the editions of 1798 to
+1805:
+
+ My heart is touched to think that men like these,
+ The rude earth's tenants, were my first relief:
+ How kindly did they paint their vagrant ease!
+ And their long holiday that feared not grief,
+ For all belonged to all, and each was chief.
+ No plough their sinews strained; on grating road
+ No wain they drove, and yet, the yellow sheaf
+ In every vale for their delight was stowed:
+ For them, in nature's meads, the milky udder flowed. 1798.
+
+ My heart is touched to think that men like these,
+ Wild houseless Wanderers, were my first relief: 1802.
+
+ In every field, with milk their dairy overflow'd. 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 58:
+
+1836.
+
+ Semblance, with straw and pannier'd ass, they made
+ Of potters wandering on from door to door:
+ But life of happier sort to me pourtrayed, 1798.
+
+ They with their pannier'd Asses semblance made
+ Of Potters ... 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 59:
+
+1836.
+
+ In depth of forest glade, when ... 1798.
+
+ Among the forest glades when ... 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 60:
+
+1802.
+
+ But ill it suited me, in journey dark 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 61:
+
+1802.
+
+ Poor father! ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 62:
+
+1842.
+
+ Ill was I ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 63:
+
+1842.
+
+ With tears whose course no effort could confine,
+ By high-way side forgetful would I sit 1798.
+
+ By the road-side forgetful would I sit 1802.
+
+ In the open air forgetful ... 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 64:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... my ... 1798.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 65:
+
+1836.
+
+ I lived upon the mercy of the fields,
+ And oft of cruelty the sky accused;
+ On hazard, or what general bounty yields, 1798.
+
+ I led a wandering life among the fields;
+ Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
+ I liv'd upon what casual bounty yields, 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 66:
+
+1802.
+
+ The fields ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 67:
+
+1836.
+
+ Three years a wanderer, often have I view'd,
+ In tears, the sun towards that country tend 1798.
+
+ Three years thus wandering, ... 1802.]
+
+
+[Variant 68:
+
+1836.
+
+ And now across this moor my steps I bend-- 1798.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES
+
+
+[Footnote A: In the 'Prelude', he says it was "three summer days." See
+book xiii. l. 337.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this
+edition (1840). See p. 37.--Ed.[Footnote D of 'Descriptive Sketches',
+the preceding poem in this text.]]
+
+
+[Footnote C: 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.
+
+Charles Farish was the author of 'The Minstrels of Winandermere'.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: Compare Milton's "grinding sword," 'Paradise Lost', vi. l.
+329.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: 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.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+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] A BEAUTIFUL
+PROSPECT
+
+
+Composed 1795.--Published 1798
+
+
+ [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. Induced by the
+ beauty of the prospect, he built a small summer-house, on the rocks
+ above the peninsula on which the Ferry House [B] 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 'Guide', 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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
+ Far from all human dwelling: what if here
+ No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?
+ What if the bee love not these barren boughs? [1]
+ Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves, 5
+ That break against the shore, shall lull thy mind
+ By one soft impulse saved from vacancy.
+ Who he was
+ That piled these stones and with the mossy sod
+ First covered, and here taught this aged Tree [2] 10
+ With its dark arms to form a circling bower, [3]
+ I well remember.--He was one who owned
+ No common soul. In youth by science nursed,
+ And led by nature into a wild scene
+ Of lofty hopes, he to the world went forth 15
+ A favoured Being, knowing no desire
+ Which genius did not hallow; 'gainst the taint
+ Of dissolute tongues, and jealousy, and hate,
+ And scorn,--against all enemies prepared,
+ All but neglect. The world, for so it thought, 20
+ Owed him no service; wherefore he at once
+ With indignation turned himself away, [4]
+ And with the food of pride sustained his soul
+ In solitude.--Stranger! these gloomy boughs
+ Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit, 25
+ His only visitants a straggling sheep,
+ The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper: [5]
+ And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath,
+ And juniper and thistle, sprinkled o'er, [6]
+ Fixing his downcast [7] eye, he many an hour 30
+ A morbid pleasure nourished, tracing here
+ An emblem of his own unfruitful life:
+ And, lifting up his head, he then would gaze
+ On the more distant scene,--how lovely 'tis
+ Thou seest,--and he would gaze till it became 35
+ Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain
+ The beauty, still more beauteous! Nor, that time,
+ When nature had subdued him to herself, [8]
+ Would he forget those Beings to whose minds
+ Warm from the labours of benevolence 40
+ The world, and human life, [9] appeared a scene
+ Of kindred loveliness: then he would sigh,
+ Inly disturbed, to think [10] that others felt
+ What he must never feel: and so, lost Man!
+ On visionary views would fancy feed, 45
+ Till his eye streamed with tears. In this deep vale
+ He died,--this seat his only monument.
+ If Thou be one whose heart the holy forms
+ Of young imagination have kept pure,
+ Stranger! henceforth be warned; and know that pride, 50
+ Howe'er disguised in its own majesty,
+ Is littleness; that he who feels contempt
+ For any living thing, hath faculties
+ Which he has never used; that thought with him
+ Is in its infancy. The man whose eye 55
+ Is ever on himself doth look on one,
+ The least of Nature's works, one who might move
+ The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds
+ Unlawful, ever. O be wiser, Thou!
+ Instructed that true knowledge leads to love; 60
+ True dignity abides with him alone
+ Who, in the silent hour of inward thought,
+ Can still suspect, and still revere himself,
+ In lowliness of heart.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1832.
+
+ What if these barren boughs the bee not loves; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ First covered o'er, and taught this aged tree, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1800.
+
+ Now wild, to bend its arms in circling shade, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1802.
+
+ ... In youth, by genius nurs'd,
+ And big with lofty views, he to the world
+ Went forth, pure in his heart, against the taint
+ Of dissolute tongues, 'gainst jealousy, and hate,
+ And scorn, against all enemies prepared,
+ All but neglect: and so, his spirit damped
+ At once, with rash disdain he turned away, 1798.
+
+ ... The world, for so it thought,
+ Owed him no service: he was like a plant
+ Fair to the sun, the darling of the winds,
+ But hung with fruit which no one, that passed by,
+ Regarded, and, his spirit damped at once,
+ With indignation did he turn away 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1798.
+
+ The stone-chat, or the sand-lark, restless Bird
+ Piping along the margin of the lake; 1815.
+
+ The text of 1820 returned to that of 1798. [i]]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1820.
+
+ And on these barren rocks, with juniper,
+ And heath, and thistle, thinly sprinkled o'er. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... downward [ii] ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8: This line was added by S. T. C. in the edition of 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... and man himself, ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1836.
+
+ With mournful joy, to think ... 1798.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES TO THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: Yet commanding, 1798-1805.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: The Ferry on Windermere.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTES TO THE VARIANTS
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: 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.]
+
+
+[Sub-Footnote ii: An emendation by S. T. C.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BORDERERS
+
+
+A TRAGEDY
+
+
+Composed 1795-6.--Published 1842
+
+
+ Readers already acquainted with my Poems will recognise, in the
+ following composition, some eight or ten lines, [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.
+
+ February 28, 1842. [B]
+
+
+ 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 had
+ 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. [C]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ [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 'History of the Borders', 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 'Remorse'; 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 _judiciously_ 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 'motiveless' 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.]
+
+
+'The Borderers' was first published in the 1842 edition of
+"Poems, chiefly of Early and Late Years." In 1845, it was
+placed in the class of "Poems written in Youth."--Ed.
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+MARMADUKE. \
+OSWALD. |
+WALLACE. |- Of the Band of
+LACY. | Borderers.
+LENNOX. |
+HERBERT. /
+
+WILFRED, Servant to MARMADUKE.
+Host.
+Forester.
+ELDRED, a Peasant.
+Peasant, Pilgrims, etc.
+
+IDONEA.
+Female Beggar.
+ELEANOR, Wife to ELDRED.
+
+
+
+
+SCENE--Borders of England and Scotland
+
+TIME--The Reign of Henry III.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I
+
+SCENE--Road in a Wood
+
+WALLACE and LACY
+
+
+
+LACY The Troop will be impatient; let us hie
+ Back to our post, and strip the Scottish Foray
+ Of their rich Spoil, ere they recross the Border.
+ ---Pity that our young Chief will have no part
+ In this good service.
+
+
+WALLACE Rather let us grieve
+ That, in the undertaking which has caused
+ His absence, he hath sought, whate'er his aim,
+ Companionship with One of crooked ways,
+ From whose perverted soul can come no good
+ To our confiding, open-hearted, Leader.
+
+
+LACY True; and, remembering how the Band have proved
+ That Oswald finds small favour in our sight,
+ Well may we wonder he has gained such power
+ Over our much-loved Captain.
+
+
+WALLACE I have heard
+ Of some dark deed to which in early life
+ His passion drove him--then a Voyager
+ Upon the midland Sea. You knew his bearing
+ In Palestine?
+
+
+LACY Where he despised alike
+ Mohammedan and Christian. But enough;
+ Let us begone--the Band may else be foiled.
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+[Enter MARMADUKE and WILFRED]
+
+
+WILFRED Be cautious, my dear Master!
+
+
+MARMADUKE I perceive
+ That fear is like a cloak which old men huddle
+ About their love, as if to keep it warm.
+
+
+WILFRED Nay, but I grieve that we should part. This Stranger,
+ For such he is--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Your busy fancies, Wilfred,
+ Might tempt me to a smile; but what of him?
+
+
+WILFRED You know that you have saved his life.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I know it.
+
+
+WILFRED And that he hates you!--Pardon me, perhaps
+ That word was hasty.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Fy! no more of it.
+
+
+WILFRED Dear Master! gratitude's a heavy burden
+ To a proud Soul.--Nobody loves this Oswald--
+ Yourself, you do not love him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I do more,
+ I honour him. Strong feelings to his heart
+ Are natural; and from no one can be learnt
+ More of man's thoughts and ways than his experience
+ Has given him power to teach: and then for courage
+ And enterprise--what perils hath he shunned?
+ What obstacles hath he failed to overcome?
+ Answer these questions, from our common knowledge,
+ And be at rest.
+
+
+WILFRED Oh, Sir!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Peace, my good Wilfred;
+ Repair to Liddesdale, and tell the Band
+ I shall be with them in two days, at farthest.
+
+
+WILFRED May He whose eye is over all protect you!
+
+
+[Exit.]
+
+[Enter OSWALD (a bunch of plants in his hand)]
+
+
+OSWALD This wood is rich in plants and curious simples.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (looking at them)
+ The wild rose, and the poppy, and the nightshade:
+ Which is your favorite, Oswald?
+
+
+OSWALD That which, while it is
+ Strong to destroy, is also strong to heal--
+ [Looking forward.]
+ Not yet in sight!--We'll saunter here awhile;
+ They cannot mount the hill, by us unseen.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (a letter in his hand)
+ It is no common thing when one like you
+ Performs these delicate services, and therefore
+ I feel myself much bounden to you, Oswald;
+ 'Tis a strange letter this!--You saw her write it?
+
+
+OSWALD And saw the tears with which she blotted it.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And nothing less would satisfy him?
+
+
+OSWALD No less;
+ For that another in his Child's affection
+ Should hold a place, as if 'twere robbery,
+ He seemed to quarrel with the very thought.
+ Besides, I know not what strange prejudice
+ Is rooted in his mind; this Band of ours,
+ Which you've collected for the noblest ends,
+ Along the confines of the Esk and Tweed
+ To guard the Innocent--he calls us "Outlaws";
+ And, for yourself, in plain terms he asserts
+ This garb was taken up that indolence
+ Might want no cover, and rapacity
+ Be better fed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ne'er may I own the heart
+ That cannot feel for one, helpless as he is.
+
+
+OSWALD Thou know'st me for a Man not easily moved,
+ Yet was I grievously provoked to think
+ Of what I witnessed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE This day will suffice
+ To end her wrongs.
+
+
+OSWALD But if the blind Man's tale
+ Should _yet_ be true?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Would it were possible!
+ Did not the Soldier tell thee that himself,
+ And others who survived the wreck, beheld
+ The Baron Herbert perish in the waves
+ Upon the coast of Cyprus?
+
+
+OSWALD Yes, even so,
+ And I had heard the like before: in sooth
+ The tale of this his quondam Barony
+ Is cunningly devised; and, on the back
+ Of his forlorn appearance, could not fail
+ To make the proud and vain his tributaries,
+ And stir the pulse of lazy charity.
+ The seignories of Herbert are in Devon;
+ We, neighbours of the Esk and Tweed; 'tis much
+ The Arch-Impostor--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Treat him gently, Oswald:
+ Though I have never seen his face, methinks,
+ There cannot come a day when I shall cease
+ To love him. I remember, when a Boy
+ Of scarcely seven years' growth, beneath the Elm
+ That casts its shade over our village school,
+ 'Twas my delight to sit and hear Idonea
+ Repeat her Father's terrible adventures,
+ Till all the band of play-mates wept together;
+ And that was the beginning of my love.
+ And, through all converse of our later years,
+ An image of this old Man still was present,
+ When I had been most happy. Pardon me
+ If this be idly spoken.
+
+
+OSWALD See, they come,
+ Two Travellers!
+
+
+MARMADUKE (points) The woman [1] is Idonea.
+
+
+OSWALD And leading Herbert.
+
+
+MARMADUKE We must let them pass--
+ This thicket will conceal us.
+
+
+[They step aside.]
+
+[Enter IDONEA, leading HERBERT blind.]
+
+
+IDONEA Dear Father, you sigh deeply; ever since
+ We left the willow shade by the brook-side,
+ Your natural breathing has been troubled.
+
+
+HERBERT Nay,
+ You are too fearful; yet must I confess,
+ Our march of yesterday had better suited
+ A firmer step than mine.
+
+
+IDONEA That dismal Moor--
+ In spite of all the larks that cheered our path,
+ I never can forgive it: but how steadily
+ _You_ paced along, when the bewildering moonlight
+ Mocked me with many a strange fantastic shape!--
+ I thought the Convent never would appear;
+ It seemed to move away from us: and yet,
+ That you are thus the fault is mine; for the air
+ Was soft and warm, no dew lay on the grass,
+ And midway on the waste ere night had fallen
+ I spied a Covert walled and roofed with sods--
+ A miniature; belike some Shepherd-boy,
+ Who might have found a nothing-doing hour
+ Heavier than work, raised it: within that hut
+ We might have made a kindly bed of heath,
+ And thankfully there rested side by side
+ Wrapped in our cloaks, and, with recruited strength,
+ Have hailed the morning sun. But cheerily, Father,--
+ That staff of yours, I could almost have heart
+ To fling't away from you: you make no use
+ Of me, or of my strength;--come, let me feel
+ That you do press upon me. There--indeed
+ You are quite exhausted. Let us rest awhile
+ On this green bank.
+
+
+[He sits down.]
+
+
+HERBERT (after some time)
+ Idonea, you are silent,
+ And I divine the cause.
+
+
+IDONEA Do not reproach me:
+ I pondered patiently your wish and will
+ When I gave way to your request; and now,
+ When I behold the ruins of that face,
+ Those eyeballs dark--dark beyond hope of light,
+ And think that they were blasted for my sake,
+ The name of Marmaduke is blown away:
+ Father, I would not change that sacred feeling
+ For all this world can give.
+
+
+HERBERT Nay, be composed:
+ Few minutes gone a faintness overspread
+ My frame, and I bethought me of two things
+ I ne'er had heart to separate--my grave,
+ And thee, my Child!
+
+
+IDONEA Believe me, honoured Sire!
+ 'Tis weariness that breeds these gloomy fancies,
+ And you mistake the cause: you hear the woods
+ Resound with music, could you see the sun,
+ And look upon the pleasant face of Nature--
+
+
+HERBERT I comprehend thee--I should be as cheerful
+ As if we two were twins; two songsters bred
+ In the same nest, my spring-time one with thine.
+ My fancies, fancies if they be, are such
+ As come, dear Child! from a far deeper source
+ Than bodily weariness. While here we sit
+ I feel my strength returning.--The bequest
+ Of thy kind Patroness, which to receive
+ We have thus far adventured, will suffice
+ To save thee from the extreme of penury;
+ But when thy Father must lie down and die,
+ How wilt thou stand alone?
+
+
+IDONEA Is he not strong?
+ Is he not valiant?
+
+
+HERBERT Am I then so soon
+ Forgotten? have my warnings passed so quickly
+ Out of thy mind? My dear, my only, Child;
+ Thou wouldst be leaning on a broken reed--
+ This Marmaduke--
+
+
+IDONEA O could you hear his voice:
+ Alas! you do not know him. He is one
+ (I wot not what ill tongue has wronged him with you)
+ All gentleness and love. His face bespeaks
+ A deep and simple meekness: and that Soul,
+ Which with the motion of a virtuous act
+ Flashes a look of terror upon guilt,
+ Is, after conflict, quiet as the ocean,
+ By a miraculous finger, stilled at once.
+
+
+HERBERT Unhappy Woman!
+
+
+IDONEA Nay, it was my duty
+ Thus much to speak; but think not I forget--
+ Dear Father! how _could_ I forget and live--
+ You and the story of that doleful night
+ When, Antioch blazing to her topmost towers,
+ You rushed into the murderous flames, returned
+ Blind as the grave, but, as you oft have told me,
+ Clasping your infant Daughter to your heart.
+
+
+HERBERT Thy Mother too!--scarce had I gained the door,
+ I caught her voice; she threw herself upon me,
+ I felt thy infant brother in her arms;
+ She saw my blasted face--a tide of soldiers
+ That instant rushed between us, and I heard
+ Her last death-shriek, distinct among a thousand.
+
+
+IDONEA Nay, Father, stop not; let me hear it all.
+
+
+HERBERT Dear Daughter! precious relic of that time--
+ For my old age, it doth remain with thee
+ To make it what thou wilt. Thou hast been told,
+ That when, on our return from Palestine,
+ I found how my domains had been usurped,
+ I took thee in my arms, and we began
+ Our wanderings together. Providence
+ At length conducted us to Rossland,--there,
+ Our melancholy story moved a Stranger
+ To take thee to her home--and for myself,
+ Soon after, the good Abbot of St. Cuthbert's
+ Supplied my helplessness with food and raiment,
+ And, as thou know'st, gave me that humble Cot
+ Where now we dwell.--For many years I bore
+ Thy absence, till old age and fresh infirmities
+ Exacted thy return, and our reunion.
+ I did not think that, during that long absence,
+ My Child, forgetful of the name of Herbert,
+ Had given her love to a wild Freebooter,
+ Who here, upon the borders of the Tweed,
+ Doth prey alike on two distracted Countries,
+ Traitor to both.
+
+
+IDONEA Oh, could you hear his voice!
+ I will not call on Heaven to vouch for me,
+ But let this kiss speak what is in my heart.
+
+
+[Enter a Peasant]
+
+
+PEASANT Good morrow, Strangers! If you want a Guide,
+ Let me have leave to serve you!
+
+
+IDONEA My Companion
+ Hath need of rest; the sight of Hut or Hostel
+ Would be most welcome.
+
+
+PEASANT Yon white hawthorn gained,
+ You will look down into a dell, and there
+ Will see an ash from which a sign-board hangs;
+ The house is hidden by the shade. Old Man,
+ You seem worn out with travel--shall I support you?
+
+
+HERBERT I thank you; but, a resting-place so near,
+ 'Twere wrong to trouble you.
+
+
+PEASANT God speed you both.
+
+
+[Exit Peasant.]
+
+
+HERBERT Idonea, we must part. Be not alarmed--
+ 'Tis but for a few days--a thought has struck me.
+
+
+IDONEA That I should leave you at this house, and thence
+ Proceed alone. It shall be so; for strength
+ Would fail you ere our journey's end be reached.
+
+
+[Exit HERBERT supported by IDONEA.]
+
+[Re-enter MARMADUKE and OSWALD]
+
+
+MARMADUKE This instant will we stop him--
+
+
+OSWALD Be not hasty,
+ For, sometimes, in despite of my conviction,
+ He tempted me to think the Story true;
+ 'Tis plain he loves the Maid, and what he said
+ That savoured of aversion to thy name
+ Appeared the genuine colour of his soul--
+ Anxiety lest mischief should befal her
+ After his death.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ I have been much deceived.
+
+
+OSWALD But sure he loves the Maiden, and never love
+ Could find delight to nurse itself so strangely,
+ Thus to torment her with _inventions!_--death--
+ There must be truth in this.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Truth in his story!
+ He must have felt it then, known what it was,
+ And in such wise to rack her gentle heart
+ Had been a tenfold cruelty.
+
+
+OSWALD Strange pleasures
+ Do we poor mortals cater for ourselves!
+ To see him thus provoke her tenderness
+ With tales of weakness and infirmity!
+ I'd wager on his life for twenty years.
+
+
+MARMADUKE We will not waste an hour in such a cause.
+
+
+OSWALD Why, this is noble! shake her off at once.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Her virtues are his instruments.--A Man
+ Who has so practised on the world's cold sense,
+ May well deceive his Child--what! leave her thus,
+ A prey to a deceiver?--no--no--no--
+ 'Tis but a word and then--
+
+
+OSWALD Something is here
+ More than we see, or whence this strong aversion?
+ Marmaduke! I suspect unworthy tales
+ Have reached his ear--you have had enemies.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Enemies!--of his own coinage.
+
+
+OSWALD That may be,
+ But wherefore slight protection such as you
+ Have power to yield? perhaps he looks elsewhere.--
+ I am perplexed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What hast thou heard or seen?
+
+
+OSWALD No--no--the thing stands clear of mystery;
+ (As you have said) he coins himself the slander
+ With which he taints her ear;--for a plain reason;
+ He dreads the presence of a virtuous man
+ Like you; he knows your eye would search his heart,
+ Your justice stamp upon his evil deeds
+ The punishment they merit. All is plain:
+ It cannot be--
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ What cannot be?
+
+
+OSWALD Yet that a Father
+ Should in his love admit no rivalship,
+ And torture thus the heart of his own Child--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Nay, you abuse my friendship!
+
+
+OSWALD Heaven forbid!--
+ There was a circumstance, trifling indeed--
+ It struck me at the time--yet I believe
+ I never should have thought of it again
+ But for the scene which we by chance have witnessed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What is your meaning?
+
+
+OSWALD Two days gone I saw,
+ Though at a distance and he was disguised,
+ Hovering round Herbert's door, a man whose figure
+ Resembled much that cold voluptuary,
+ The villain, Clifford. He hates you, and he knows
+ Where he can stab you deepest.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Clifford never
+ Would stoop to skulk about a Cottage door--
+ It could not be.
+
+
+OSWALD And yet I now remember,
+ That, when your praise was warm upon my tongue,
+ And the blind Man was told how you had rescued
+ A maiden from the ruffian violence
+ Of this same Clifford, he became impatient
+ And would not hear me.
+
+
+MARMADUKE No--it cannot be--
+ I dare not trust myself with such a thought--
+ Yet whence this strange aversion? You are a man
+ Not used to rash conjectures--
+
+
+OSWALD If you deem it
+ A thing worth further notice, we must act
+ With caution, sift the matter artfully.
+
+
+[Exeunt MARMADUKE and OSWALD.]
+
+
+SCENE--The door of the Hostel
+
+HERBERT, IDONEA, and Host
+
+
+HERBERT (seated)
+ As I am dear to you, remember, Child!
+ This last request.
+
+
+IDONEA You know me, Sire; farewell!
+
+
+HERBERT And are you going then? Come, come, Idonea,
+ We must not part,--I have measured many a league
+ When these old limbs had need of rest,--and now
+ I will not play the sluggard.
+
+
+IDONEA Nay, sit down.
+ [Turning to Host.
+ Good Host, such tendance as you would expect
+ From your own Children, if yourself were sick,
+ Let this old Man find at your hands; poor Leader,
+ [_Looking at the dog_.
+ We soon shall meet again. If thou neglect
+ This charge of thine, then ill befall thee!--Look,
+ The little fool is loth to stay behind.
+ Sir Host! by all the love you bear to courtesy,
+ Take care of him, and feed the truant well.
+
+
+HOST Fear not, I will obey you;--but One so young,
+ And One so fair, it goes against my heart
+ That you should travel unattended, Lady!--
+ I have a palfrey and a groom: the lad
+ Shall squire you, (would it not be better, Sir?)
+ And for less fee than I would let him run
+ For any lady I have seen this twelvemonth.
+
+
+IDONEA You know, Sir, I have been too long your guard
+ Not to have learnt to laugh at little fears.
+ Why, if a wolf should leap from out a thicket,
+ A look of mine would send him scouring back,
+ Unless I differ from the thing I am
+ When you are by my side.
+
+
+HERBERT Idonea, wolves
+ Are not the enemies that move my fears.
+
+
+IDONEA No more, I pray, of this. Three days at farthest
+ Will bring me back--protect him, Saints--farewell!
+
+
+[Exit IDONEA.]
+
+
+HOST 'Tis never drought with us--St. Cuthbert and his Pilgrims,
+ Thanks to them, are to us a stream of comfort:
+ Pity the Maiden did not wait awhile;
+ She could not, Sir, have failed of company.
+
+
+HERBERT Now she is gone, I fain would call her back.
+
+
+HOST (calling) Holla!
+
+
+HERBERT No, no, the business must be done.--
+ What means this riotous noise?
+
+HOST The villagers
+ Are flocking in--a wedding festival--
+ That's all--God save you, Sir.
+
+
+[Enter OSWALD]
+
+
+OSWALD Ha! as I live,
+ The Baron Herbert.
+
+
+HOST Mercy, the Baron Herbert!
+
+
+OSWALD So far into your journey! on my life,
+ You are a lusty Traveller. But how fare you?
+
+
+HERBERT Well as the wreck I am permits. And you, Sir?
+
+
+OSWALD I do not see Idonea.
+
+
+HERBERT Dutiful Girl,
+ She is gone before, to spare my weariness.
+ But what has brought you hither?
+
+
+OSWALD A slight affair,
+ That will be soon despatched.
+
+
+HERBERT Did Marmaduke
+ Receive that letter?
+
+
+OSWALD Be at peace.--The tie
+ Is broken, you will hear no more of _him_.
+
+
+HERBERT This is true comfort, thanks a thousand times!--
+ That noise!--would I had gone with her as far
+ As the Lord Clifford's Castle: I have heard
+ That, in his milder moods, he has expressed
+ Compassion for me. His influence is great
+ With Henry, our good King;--the Baron might
+ Have heard my suit, and urged my plea at Court.
+ No matter--he's a dangerous Man.--That noise!--
+ 'Tis too disorderly for sleep or rest.
+ Idonea would have fears for me,--the Convent
+ Will give me quiet lodging. You have a boy, good Host,
+ And he must lead me back.
+
+
+OSWALD You are most lucky;
+ I have been waiting in the wood hard by
+ For a companion--here he comes; our journey
+ [Enter MARMADUKE]
+ Lies on your way; accept us as your Guides.
+
+
+HERBERT Alas! I creep so slowly.
+
+
+OSWALD Never fear;
+ We'll not complain of that.
+
+
+HERBERT My limbs are stiff
+ And need repose. Could you but wait an hour?
+
+
+OSWALD Most willingly!--Come, let me lead you in,
+ And, while you take your rest, think not of us;
+ We'll stroll into the wood; lean on my arm.
+
+
+[Conducts HERBERT into the house. Exit MARMADUKE.]
+
+[Enter Villagers]
+
+
+OSWALD (to himself, coming out of the Hostel)
+ I have prepared a most apt Instrument--
+ The Vagrant must, no doubt, be loitering somewhere
+ About this ground; she hath a tongue well skilled,
+ By mingling natural matter of her own
+ With all the daring fictions I have taught her,
+ To win belief, such as my plot requires.
+
+
+[Exit OSWALD.]
+
+[Enter more Villagers, a Musician among them]
+
+
+HOST (to them)
+ Into the court, my Friend, and perch yourself
+ Aloft upon the elm-tree. Pretty Maids,
+ Garlands and flowers, and cakes and merry thoughts,
+ Are here, to send the sun into the west
+ More speedily than you belike would wish.
+
+
+SCENE changes to the Wood adjoining the Hostel--
+
+[MARMADUKE and OSWALD entering]
+
+
+MARMADUKE I would fain hope that we deceive ourselves:
+ When first I saw him sitting there, alone,
+ It struck upon my heart I know not how.
+
+
+OSWALD To-day will clear up all.--You marked a Cottage,
+ That ragged Dwelling, close beneath a rock
+ By the brook-side: it is the abode of One,
+ A Maiden innocent till ensnared by Clifford,
+ Who soon grew weary of her; but, alas!
+ What she had seen and suffered turned her brain.
+ Cast off by her Betrayer, she dwells alone,
+ Nor moves her hands to any needful work:
+ She eats her food which every day the peasants
+ Bring to her hut; and so the Wretch has lived
+ Ten years; and no one ever heard her voice;
+ But every night at the first stroke of twelve
+ She quits her house, and, in the neighbouring Churchyard
+ Upon the self-same spot, in rain or storm,
+ She paces out the hour 'twixt twelve and one--
+ She paces round and round an Infant's grave,
+ And in the Churchyard sod her feet have worn
+ A hollow ring; they say it is knee-deep--
+ Ah! [1] what is here?
+
+
+[A female Beggar rises up, rubbing her eyes as if in sleep--a Child in
+her arms.]
+
+
+BEGGAR O Gentlemen, I thank you;
+ I've had the saddest dream that ever troubled
+ The heart of living creature.--My poor Babe
+ Was crying, as I thought, crying for bread
+ When I had none to give him; whereupon,
+ I put a slip of foxglove in his hand,
+ Which pleased him so, that he was hushed at once:
+ When, into one of those same spotted bells
+ A bee came darting, which the Child with joy
+ Imprisoned there, and held it to his ear,
+ And suddenly grew black, as he would die.
+
+
+MARMADUKE We have no time for this, my babbling Gossip;
+ Here's what will comfort you.
+ [Gives her money.]
+
+
+BEGGAR The Saints reward you
+ For this good deed!--Well, Sirs, this passed away;
+ And afterwards I fancied, a strange dog,
+ Trotting alone along the beaten road,
+ Came to my child as by my side he slept
+ And, fondling, licked his face, then on a sudden
+ Snapped fierce to make a morsel of his head:
+ But here he is,
+ [kissing the Child]
+ it must have been a dream.
+
+
+OSWALD When next inclined to sleep, take my advice,
+ And put your head, good Woman, under cover.
+
+
+BEGGAR Oh, Sir, you would not talk thus, if you knew
+ What life is this of ours, how sleep will master
+ The weary-worn.--You gentlefolk have got
+ Warm chambers to your wish. I'd rather be
+ A stone than what I am.--But two nights gone,
+ The darkness overtook me--wind and rain
+ Beat hard upon my head--and yet I saw
+ A glow-worm, through the covert of the furze,
+ Shine calmly as if nothing ailed the sky:
+ At which I half accused the God in Heaven.--
+ You must forgive me.
+
+
+OSWALD Ay, and if you think
+ The Fairies are to blame, and you should chide
+ Your favourite saint--no matter--this good day
+ Has made amends.
+
+
+BEGGAR Thanks to you both; but, Oh Sir!
+ How would you like to travel on whole hours
+ As I have done, my eyes upon the ground,
+ Expecting still, I knew not how, to find
+ A piece of money glittering through the dust.
+
+
+MARMADUKE This woman is a prater. Pray, good Lady!
+ Do you tell fortunes?
+
+
+BEGGAR Oh Sir, you are like the rest.
+ This Little-one--it cuts me to the heart--
+ Well! they might turn a beggar from their doors,
+ But there are Mothers who can see the Babe
+ Here at my breast, and ask me where I bought it:
+ This they can do, and look upon my face--
+ But you, Sir, should be kinder.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Come hither, Fathers,
+ And learn what nature is from this poor Wretch!
+
+
+BEGGAR Ay, Sir, there's nobody that feels for us.
+ Why now--but yesterday I overtook
+ A blind old Greybeard and accosted him,
+ I' th' name of all the Saints, and by the Mass
+ He should have used me better!--Charity!
+ If you can melt a rock, he is your man;
+ But I'll be even with him--here again
+ Have I been waiting for him.
+
+
+OSWALD Well, but softly,
+ Who is it that hath wronged you?
+
+
+BEGGAR Mark you me;
+ I'll point him out;--a Maiden is his guide,
+ Lovely as Spring's first rose; a little dog,
+ Tied by a woollen cord, moves on before
+ With look as sad as he were dumb; the cur,
+ I owe him no ill will, but in good sooth
+ He does his Master credit.
+
+
+MARMADUKE As I live,
+ 'Tis Herbert and no other!
+
+
+BEGGAR 'Tis a feast to see him,
+ Lank as a ghost and tall, his shoulders bent,
+ And long beard white with age--yet evermore,
+ As if he were the only Saint on earth,
+ He turns his face to heaven.
+
+
+OSWALD But why so violent
+ Against this venerable Man?
+
+
+BEGGAR I'll tell you:
+ He has the very hardest heart on earth;
+ I had as lief turn to the Friar's school
+ And knock for entrance, in mid holiday.
+
+
+MARMADUKE But to your story.
+
+
+BEGGAR I was saying, Sir--
+ Well!--he has often spurned me like a toad,
+ But yesterday was worse than all;--at last
+ I overtook him, Sirs, my Babe and I,
+ And begged a little aid for charity:
+ But he was snappish as a cottage cur.
+ Well then, says I--I'll out with it; at which
+ I cast a look upon the Girl, and felt
+ As if my heart would burst; and so I left him.
+
+
+OSWALD I think, good Woman, you are the very person
+ Whom, but some few days past, I saw in Eskdale,
+ At Herbert's door.
+
+
+BEGGAR Ay; and if truth were known
+ I have good business there.
+
+
+OSWALD I met you at the threshold,
+ And he seemed angry.
+
+
+BEGGAR Angry! well he might;
+ And long as I can stir I'll dog him.--Yesterday,
+ To serve me so, and knowing that he owes
+ The best of all he has to me and mine.
+ But 'tis all over now.--That good old Lady
+ Has left a power of riches; and I say it,
+ If there's a lawyer in the land, the knave
+ Shall give me half.
+
+
+OSWALD What's this?--I fear, good Woman,
+ You have been insolent.
+
+
+BEGGAR And there's the Baron,
+ I spied him skulking in his peasant's dress.
+
+
+OSWALD How say you? in disguise?--
+
+
+MARMADUKE But what's your business
+ With Herbert or his Daughter?
+
+
+BEGGAR Daughter! truly--
+ But how's the day?--I fear, my little Boy,
+ We've overslept ourselves.--Sirs, have you seen him?
+ [Offers to go.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE I must have more of this;--you shall not stir
+ An inch, till I am answered. Know you aught
+ That doth concern this Herbert?
+
+
+BEGGAR You are provoked,
+ And will misuse me, Sir!
+
+
+MARMADUKE No trifling, Woman!--
+
+
+OSWALD You are as safe as in a sanctuary;
+ Speak.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Speak!
+
+
+BEGGAR He is a most hard-hearted Man.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Your life is at my mercy.
+
+
+BEGGAR Do not harm me,
+ And I will tell you all!--You know not, Sir,
+ What strong temptations press upon the Poor.
+
+
+OSWALD Speak out.
+
+
+BEGGAR O Sir, I've been a wicked Woman.
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, but speak out!
+
+
+BEGGAR He flattered me, and said
+ What harvest it would bring us both; and so,
+ I parted with the Child.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Parted with whom? [3]
+
+
+BEGGAR Idonea, as he calls her; but the Girl
+ Is mine.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Yours, Woman! are you Herbert's wife?
+
+
+BEGGAR Wife, Sir! his wife--not I; my husband, Sir,
+ Was of Kirkoswald--many a snowy winter
+ We've weathered out together. My poor Gilfred!
+ He has been two years in his grave.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Enough.
+
+
+OSWALD We've solved the riddle--Miscreant!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Do you,
+ Good Dame, repair to Liddesdale and wait
+ For my return; be sure you shall have justice.
+
+
+OSWALD A lucky woman!--go, you have done good service.
+ [Aside.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to himself)
+ Eternal praises on the power that saved her!--
+
+
+OSWALD (gives her money)
+ Here's for your little boy--and when you christen him
+ I'll be his Godfather.
+
+BEGGAR O Sir, you are merry with me.
+ In grange or farm this Hundred scarcely owns
+ A dog that does not know me.--These good Folks,
+ For love of God, I must not pass their doors;
+ But I'll be back with my best speed: for you--
+ God bless and thank you both, my gentle Masters.
+
+
+ [Exit Beggar.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to himself)
+ The cruel Viper!--Poor devoted Maid,
+ Now I _do_ love thee.
+
+
+OSWALD I am thunderstruck.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Where is she--holla!
+ [Calling to the Beggar, who returns; he looks at her stedfastly.]
+ You are Idonea's Mother?--
+ Nay, be not terrified--it does me good
+ To look upon you.
+
+
+OSWALD (interrupting)
+ In a peasant's dress
+ You saw, who was it?
+
+
+BEGGAR Nay, I dare not speak;
+ He is a man, if it should come to his ears
+ I never shall be heard of more.
+
+OSWALD Lord Clifford?
+
+
+BEGGAR What can I do? believe me, gentle Sirs,
+ I love her, though I dare not call her daughter.
+
+
+OSWALD Lord Clifford--did you see him talk with Herbert?
+
+
+BEGGAR Yes, to my sorrow--under the great oak
+ At Herbert's door--and when he stood beside
+ The blind Man--at the silent Girl he looked
+ With such a look--it makes me tremble, Sir,
+ To think of it.
+
+
+OSWALD Enough! you may depart.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to himself)
+ Father!--to God himself we cannot give
+ A holier name; and, under such a mask,
+ To lead a Spirit, spotless as the blessed,
+ To that abhorred den of brutish vice!--
+ Oswald, the firm foundation of my life
+ Is going from under me; these strange discoveries--
+ Looked at from every point of fear or hope,
+ Duty, or love--involve, I feel, my ruin.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II
+
+SCENE--A Chamber in the Hostel--OSWALD alone, rising from a Table on
+which he had been writing.
+
+
+OSWALD They chose _him_ for their Chief!--what covert part
+ He, in the preference, modest Youth, might take,
+ I neither know nor care. The insult bred
+ More of contempt than hatred; both are flown;
+ That either e'er existed is my shame:
+ 'Twas a dull spark--a most unnatural fire
+ That died the moment the air breathed upon it.
+ --These fools of feeling are mere birds of winter
+ That haunt some barren island of the north,
+ Where, if a famishing man stretch forth his hand,
+ They think it is to feed them. I have left him
+ To solitary meditation;--now
+ For a few swelling phrases, and a flash
+ Of truth, enough to dazzle and to blind,
+ And he is mine for ever--here he comes.
+
+
+[Enter MARMADUKE.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE These ten years she has moved her lips all day
+ And never speaks!
+
+
+OSWALD Who is it?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I have seen her.
+
+
+OSWALD Oh! the poor tenant of that ragged homestead,
+ Her whom the Monster, Clifford, drove to madness.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I met a peasant near the spot; he told me,
+ These ten years she had sate all day alone
+ Within those empty walls.
+
+
+OSWALD I too have seen her;
+ Chancing to pass this way some six months gone,
+ At midnight, I betook me to the Churchyard:
+ The moon shone clear, the air was still, so still
+ The trees were silent as the graves beneath them.
+ Long did I watch, and saw her pacing round
+ Upon the self-same spot, still round and round,
+ Her lips for ever moving.
+
+
+MARMADUKE At her door
+ Rooted I stood; for, looking at the woman,
+ I thought I saw the skeleton of Idonea.
+
+
+OSWALD But the pretended Father--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Earthly law
+ Measures not crimes like his.
+
+
+OSWALD _We_ rank not, happily,
+ With those who take the spirit of their rule
+ From that soft class of devotees who feel
+ Reverence for life so deeply, that they spare
+ The verminous brood, and cherish what they spare
+ While feeding on their bodies. Would that Idonea
+ Were present, to the end that we might hear
+ What she can urge in his defence; she loves him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Yes, loves him; 'tis a truth that multiplies
+ His guilt a thousand-fold.
+
+
+OSWALD 'Tis most perplexing:
+ What must be done?
+
+
+MARMADUKE We will conduct her hither;
+ These walls shall witness it--from first to last
+ He shall reveal himself.
+
+
+OSWALD Happy are we,
+ Who live in these disputed tracts, that own
+ No law but what each man makes for himself;
+ Here justice has indeed a field of triumph.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Let us begone and bring her hither;--here
+ The truth shall be laid open, his guilt proved
+ Before her face. The rest be left to me.
+
+OSWALD You will be firm: but though we well may trust
+ The issue to the justice of the cause,
+ Caution must not be flung aside; remember,
+ Yours is no common life. Self-stationed here,
+ Upon these savage confines, we have seen you
+ Stand like an isthmus 'twixt two stormy seas
+ That oft have checked their fury at your bidding.
+ 'Mid the deep holds of Solway's mossy waste,
+ Your single virtue has transformed a Band
+ Of fierce barbarians into Ministers
+ Of peace and order. Aged men with tears
+ Have blessed their steps, the fatherless retire
+ For shelter to their banners. But it is,
+ As you must needs have deeply felt, it is
+ In darkness and in tempest that we seek
+ The majesty of Him who rules the world.
+ Benevolence, that has not heart to use
+ The wholesome ministry of pain and evil,
+ Becomes at last weak and contemptible.
+ Your generous qualities have won due praise,
+ But vigorous Spirits look for something more
+ Than Youth's spontaneous products; and to-day
+ You will not disappoint them; and hereafter--
+
+
+MARMADUKE You are wasting words; hear me then, once for all:
+ You are a Man--and therefore, if compassion,
+ Which to our kind is natural as life,
+ Be known unto you, you will love this Woman,
+ Even as I do; but I should loathe the light,
+ If I could think one weak or partial feeling--
+
+
+OSWALD You will forgive me--
+
+
+MARMADUKE If I ever knew
+ My heart, could penetrate its inmost core,
+ 'Tis at this moment.--Oswald, I have loved
+ To be the friend and father of the oppressed,
+ A comforter of sorrow;--there is something
+ Which looks like a transition in my soul,
+ And yet it is not.--Let us lead him hither.
+
+
+OSWALD Stoop for a moment; 'tis an act of justice;
+ And where's the triumph if the delegate
+ Must fall in the execution of his office?
+ The deed is done--if you will have it so--
+ Here where we stand--that tribe of vulgar wretches
+ (You saw them gathering for the festival)
+ Rush in--the villains seize us--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Seize!
+
+
+OSWALD Yes, they--
+ Men who are little given to sift and weigh--
+ Would wreak on us the passion of the moment.
+
+
+MARMADUKE The cloud will soon disperse--farewell--but stay,
+ Thou wilt relate the story.
+
+
+OSWALD Am I neither
+ To bear a part in this Man's punishment,
+ Nor be its witness?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I had many hopes
+ That were most dear to me, and some will bear
+ To be transferred to thee.
+
+
+OSWALD When I'm dishonoured!
+
+
+MARMADUKE I would preserve thee. How may this be done?
+
+
+OSWALD By showing that you look beyond the instant.
+ A few leagues hence we shall have open ground,
+ And nowhere upon earth is place so fit
+ To look upon the deed. Before we enter
+ The barren Moor, hangs from a beetling rock
+ The shattered Castle in which Clifford oft
+ Has held infernal orgies--with the gloom,
+ And very superstition of the place,
+ Seasoning his wickedness. The Debauchee
+ Would there perhaps have gathered the first fruits
+ Of this mock Father's guilt.
+
+
+[Enter Host conducting HERBERT.]
+
+
+HOST The Baron Herbert
+ Attends your pleasure.
+
+
+OSWALD (to Host)
+ We are ready--
+ (to HERBERT) Sir!
+ I hope you are refreshed.--I have just written
+ A notice for your Daughter, that she may know
+ What is become of you.--You'll sit down and sign it;
+ 'Twill glad her heart to see her father's signature.
+ [Gives the letter he had written.]
+
+
+HERBERT Thanks for your care.
+
+
+ [Sits down and writes. Exit Host.]
+
+
+OSWALD (aside to MARMADUKE)
+ Perhaps it would be useful
+ That you too should subscribe your name.
+[MARMADUKE overlooks HERBERT--then writes--examines the letter eagerly.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE I cannot leave this paper.
+
+
+ [He puts it up, agitated.]
+
+
+OSWALD (aside)
+ Dastard! Come.
+
+
+ [MARMADUKE goes towards HERBERT and supports him--MARMADUKE
+ tremblingly beckons OSWALD to take his place.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (as he quits HERBERT)
+ There is a palsy in his limbs--he shakes.
+
+
+ [Exeunt OSWALD and HERBERT--MARMADUKE following.]
+
+
+SCENE changes to a Wood--a Group of Pilgrims, and IDONEA with them.
+
+
+FIRST PILGRIM A grove of darker and more lofty shade
+ I never saw.
+
+
+SECOND PILGRIM The music of the birds
+ Drops deadened from a roof so thick with leaves.
+
+
+OLD PILGRIM This news! It made my heart leap up with joy.
+
+
+IDONEA I scarcely can believe it.
+
+
+OLD PILGRIM Myself, I heard
+ The Sheriff read, in open Court, a letter
+ Which purported it was the royal pleasure
+ The Baron Herbert, who, as was supposed,
+ Had taken refuge in this neighbourhood,
+ Should be forthwith restored. The hearing, Lady,
+ Filled my dim eyes with tears.--When I returned
+ From Palestine, and brought with me a heart,
+ Though rich in heavenly, poor in earthly, comfort,
+ I met your Father, then a wandering Outcast:
+ He had a Guide, a Shepherd's boy; but grieved
+ He was that One so young should pass his youth
+ In such sad service; and he parted with him.
+ We joined our tales of wretchedness together,
+ And begged our daily bread from door to door.
+ I talk familiarly to you, sweet Lady!
+ For once you loved me.
+
+
+IDONEA You shall back with me
+ And see your Friend again. The good old Man
+ Will be rejoiced to greet you.
+
+
+OLD PILGRIM It seems but yesterday
+ That a fierce storm o'ertook us, worn with travel,
+ In a deep wood remote from any town.
+ A cave that opened to the road presented
+ A friendly shelter, and we entered in.
+
+
+IDONEA And I was with you?
+
+
+OLD PILGRIM If indeed 'twas you--
+ But you were then a tottering Little-one--
+ We sate us down. The sky grew dark and darker:
+ I struck my flint, and built up a small fire
+ With rotten boughs and leaves, such as the winds
+ Of many autumns in the cave had piled.
+ Meanwhile the storm fell heavy on the woods;
+ Our little fire sent forth a cheering warmth
+ And we were comforted, and talked of comfort;
+ But 'twas an angry night, and o'er our heads
+ The thunder rolled in peals that would have made
+ A sleeping man uneasy in his bed.
+ O Lady, you have need to love your Father.
+ His voice--methinks I hear it now, his voice
+ When, after a broad flash that filled the cave,
+ He said to me, that he had seen his Child,
+ A face (no cherub's face more beautiful)
+ Revealed by lustre brought with it from heaven;
+ And it was you, dear Lady!
+
+
+IDONEA God be praised,
+ That I have been his comforter till now!
+ And will be so through every change of fortune
+ And every sacrifice his peace requires.--
+ Let us be gone with speed, that he may hear
+ These joyful tidings from no lips but mine.
+
+
+ [Exeunt IDONEA and Pilgrims.]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE--The Area of a half-ruined Castle--on one side the entrance to a
+dungeon--OSWALD and MARMADUKE pacing backwards and forwards.
+
+
+
+MARMADUKE 'Tis a wild night.
+
+
+OSWALD I'd give my cloak and bonnet
+ For sight of a warm fire.
+
+
+MARMADUKE The wind blows keen;
+ My hands are numb.
+
+
+OSWALD Ha! ha! 'tis nipping cold.
+ [Blowing his fingers.]
+ I long for news of our brave Comrades; Lacy
+ Would drive those Scottish Rovers to their dens
+ If once they blew a horn this side the Tweed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I think I see a second range of Towers;
+ This castle has another Area--come,
+ Let us examine it.
+
+
+OSWALD 'Tis a bitter night;
+ I hope Idonea is well housed. That horseman,
+ Who at full speed swept by us where the wood
+ Roared in the tempest, was within an ace
+ Of sending to his grave our precious Charge:
+ That would have been a vile mischance.
+
+
+MARMADUKE It would.
+
+
+OSWALD Justice had been most cruelly defrauded.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Most cruelly.
+
+
+OSWALD As up the steep we clomb,
+ I saw a distant fire in the north-east;
+ I took it for the blaze of Cheviot Beacon:
+ With proper speed our quarters may be gained
+ To-morrow evening.
+
+ [He looks restlessly towards the mouth of the dungeon.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE When, upon the plank,
+ I had led him 'cross [4] the torrent, his voice blessed me:
+ You could not hear, for the foam beat the rocks
+ With deafening noise,--the benediction fell
+ Back on himself; but changed into a curse.
+
+
+OSWALD As well indeed it might.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And this you deem
+ The fittest place?
+
+
+OSWALD (aside)
+ He is growing pitiful.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (listening)
+ What an odd moaning that is!--
+
+OSWALD. Mighty odd
+ The wind should pipe a little, while we stand
+ Cooling our heels in this way!--I'll begin
+ And count the stars.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (still listening)
+ That dog of his, you are sure,
+ Could not come after us--he _must_ have perished;
+ The torrent would have dashed an oak to splinters.
+ You said you did not like his looks--that he
+ Would trouble us; if he were here again,
+ I swear the sight of him would quail me more
+ Than twenty armies.
+
+
+OSWALD How?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The old blind Man,
+ When you had told him the mischance, was troubled
+ Even to the shedding of some natural tears
+ Into the torrent over which he hung,
+ Listening in vain.
+
+
+OSWALD He has a tender heart!
+
+
+ [OSWALD offers to go down into the dungeon.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE How now, what mean you?
+
+
+OSWALD Truly, I was going
+ To waken our stray Baron. Were there not
+ A farm or dwelling-house within five leagues,
+ We should deserve to wear a cap and bells,
+ Three good round years, for playing the fool here
+ In such a night as this.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Stop, stop.
+
+
+OSWALD Perhaps,
+ You'd better like we should descend together,
+ And lie down by his side--what say you to it?
+ Three of us--we should keep each other warm:
+ I'll answer for it that our four-legged friend
+ Shall not disturb us; further I'll not engage;
+ Come, come, for manhood's sake!
+
+
+MARMADUKE These drowsy shiverings,
+ This mortal stupor which is creeping over me,
+ What do they mean? were this my single body
+ Opposed to armies, not a nerve would tremble:
+ Why do I tremble now?--Is not the depth
+ Of this Man's crimes beyond the reach of thought?
+ And yet, in plumbing the abyss for judgment,
+ Something I strike upon which turns my mind
+ Back on herself, I think, again--my breast
+ Concentres all the terrors of the Universe:
+ I look at him and tremble like a child.
+
+
+OSWALD Is it possible?
+
+
+MARMADUKE One thing you noticed not:
+ Just as we left the glen a clap of thunder
+ Burst on the mountains with hell-rousing force.
+ This is a time, said he, when guilt may shudder;
+ But there's a Providence for them who walk
+ In helplessness, when innocence is with them.
+ At this audacious blasphemy, I thought
+ The spirit of vengeance seemed to ride the air.
+
+
+OSWALD Why are you not the man you were that moment?
+
+
+ [He draws MARMADUKE to the dungeon.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE You say he was asleep,--look at this arm,
+ And tell me if 'tis fit for such a work.
+ Oswald, Oswald!
+ [Leans upon OSWALD.]
+
+
+OSWALD This is some sudden seizure!
+
+
+MARMADUKE A most strange faintness,--will you hunt me out
+ A draught of water?
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, to see you thus
+ Moves me beyond my bearing.--I will try
+ To gain the torrent's brink.
+
+
+[Exit OSWALD.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (after a pause)
+ It seems an age
+ Since that Man left me.--No, I am not lost.
+
+
+HERBERT (at the mouth of the dungeon)
+ Give me your hand; where are you, Friends? and tell me
+ How goes the night.
+
+
+MARMADUKE 'Tis hard to measure time,
+ In such a weary night, and such a place.
+
+
+HERBERT I do not hear the voice of my friend Oswald.
+
+MARMADUKE A minute past, he went to fetch a draught
+ Of water from the torrent. 'Tis, you'll say,
+ A cheerless beverage.
+
+
+HERBERT How good it was in you
+ To stay behind!--Hearing at first no answer,
+ I was alarmed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE No wonder; this is a place
+ That well may put some fears into _your_ heart.
+
+
+HERBERT Why so? a roofless rock had been a comfort,
+ Storm-beaten and bewildered as we were;
+ And in a night like this, to lend your cloaks
+ To make a bed for me!--My Girl will weep
+ When she is told of it.
+
+MARMADUKE This Daughter of yours
+ Is very dear to you.
+
+
+HERBERT Oh! but you are young;
+ Over your head twice twenty years must roll,
+ With all their natural weight of sorrow and pain,
+ Ere can be known to you how much a Father
+ May love his Child.
+
+MARMADUKE
+ Thank you, old Man, for this! [Aside.]
+
+
+HERBERT Fallen am I, and worn out, a useless Man;
+ Kindly have you protected me to-night,
+ And no return have I to make but prayers;
+ May you in age be blest with such a daughter!--
+ When from the Holy Land I had returned
+ Sightless, and from my heritage was driven,
+ A wretched Outcast--but this strain of thought
+ Would lead me to talk fondly.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Do not fear;
+ Your words are precious to my ears; go on.
+
+
+HERBERT You will forgive me, but my heart runs over.
+ When my old Leader slipped into the flood
+ And perished, what a piercing outcry you
+ Sent after him. I have loved you ever since.
+ You start--where are we?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Oh, there is no danger;
+ The cold blast struck me.
+
+
+HERBERT
+ 'Twas a foolish question.
+
+
+MARMADUKE But when you were an Outcast?--Heaven is just;
+ Your piety would not miss its due reward;
+ The little Orphan then would be your succour,
+ And do good service, though she knew it not.
+
+
+HERBERT I turned me from the dwellings of my Fathers,
+ Where none but those who trampled on my rights
+ Seemed to remember me. To the wide world
+ I bore her, in my arms; her looks won pity;
+ She was my Raven in the wilderness,
+ And brought me food. Have I not cause to love her?
+
+MARMADUKE Yes.
+
+
+HERBERT More than ever Parent loved a Child?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Yes, yes.
+
+
+HERBERT I will not murmur, merciful God!
+ I will not murmur; blasted as I have been,
+ Thou hast left me ears to hear my Daughter's voice,
+ And arms to fold her to my heart. Submissively
+ Thee I adore, and find my rest in faith.
+
+
+[Enter OSWALD.]
+
+
+OSWALD Herbert!--confusion! (aside).
+ Here it is, my Friend,
+ [Presents the Horn.]
+ A charming beverage for you to carouse,
+ This bitter night.
+
+
+HERBERT Ha! Oswald! ten bright crosses
+ I would have given, not many minutes gone,
+ To have heard your voice.
+
+
+OSWALD Your couch, I fear, good Baron,
+ Has been but comfortless; and yet that place,
+ When the tempestuous wind first drove us hither,
+ Felt warm as a wren's nest. You'd better turn
+ And under covert rest till break of day,
+ Or till the storm abate.
+ (To MARMADUKE aside.) He has restored you.
+ No doubt you have been nobly entertained?
+ But soft!--how came he forth? The Night-mare Conscience
+ Has driven him out of harbour?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I believe
+ You have guessed right.
+
+
+HERBERT The trees renew their murmur:
+ Come, let us house together.
+
+
+ [OSWALD conducts him to the dungeon.]
+
+
+OSWALD (returns)
+ Had I not
+ Esteemed you worthy to conduct the affair
+ To its most fit conclusion, do you think
+ I would so long have struggled with my Nature,
+ And smothered all that's man in me?--away!--
+ [Looking towards the dungeon.]
+ This man's the property of him who best
+ Can feel his crimes. I have resigned a privilege;
+ It now becomes my duty to resume it.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Touch not a finger--
+
+
+OSWALD What then must be done?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Which way soe'er I turn, I am perplexed.
+
+
+OSWALD Now, on my life, I grieve for you. The misery
+ Of doubt is insupportable. Pity, the facts
+ Did not admit of stronger evidence;
+ Twelve honest men, plain men, would set us right;
+ Their verdict would abolish these weak scruples.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Weak! I am weak--there does my torment lie,
+ Feeding itself.
+
+
+OSWALD Verily, when he said
+ How his old heart would leap to hear her steps,
+ You thought his voice the echo of Idonea's.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And never heard a sound so terrible.
+
+
+OSWALD Perchance you think so now?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I cannot do it:
+ Twice did I spring to grasp his withered throat,
+ When such a sudden weakness fell upon me,
+ I could have dropped asleep upon his breast.
+
+
+OSWALD Justice--is there not thunder in the word?
+ Shall it be law to stab the petty robber
+ Who aims but at our purse; and shall this Parricide--
+ Worse is he far, far worse (if foul dishonour
+ Be worse than death) to that confiding Creature
+ Whom he to more than filial love and duty
+ Hath falsely trained--shall he fulfil his purpose?
+ But you are fallen.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Fallen should I be indeed--
+ Murder--perhaps asleep, blind, old, alone,
+ Betrayed, in darkness! Here to strike the blow--
+ Away! away!--
+
+[Flings away his sword.]
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, I have done with you:
+ We'll lead him to the Convent. He shall live,
+ And she shall love him. With unquestioned title
+ He shall be seated in his Barony,
+ And we too chant the praise of his good deeds.
+ I now perceive we do mistake our masters,
+ And most despise the men who best can teach us:
+ Henceforth it shall be said that bad men only
+ Are brave: Clifford is brave; and that old Man
+ Is brave.
+ [Taking MARMADUKE'S sword and giving it to him.]
+ To Clifford's arms he would have led
+ His Victim--haply to this desolate house.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (advancing to the dungeon)
+ It must be ended!--
+
+
+OSWALD Softly; do not rouse him;
+ He will deny it to the last. He lies
+ Within the Vault, a spear's length to the left.
+ [MARMADUKE descends to the dungeon.]
+ (Alone.) The Villains rose in mutiny to destroy me;
+ I could have quelled the Cowards, but this Stripling
+ Must needs step in, and save my life. The look
+ With which he gave the boon--I see it now!
+ The same that tempted me to loathe the gift.--
+ For this old venerable Grey-beard--faith
+ 'Tis his own fault if he hath got a face
+ Which doth play tricks with them that look on it:
+ 'Twas this that put it in my thoughts--that countenance--
+ His staff--his figure--Murder!--what, of whom?
+ We kill a worn-out horse, and who but women
+ Sigh at the deed? Hew down a withered tree,
+ And none look grave but dotards. He may live
+ To thank me for this service. Rainbow arches,
+ Highways of dreaming passion, have too long,
+ Young as he is, diverted wish and hope
+ From the unpretending ground we mortals tread;--
+ Then shatter the delusion, break it up
+ And set him free. What follows? I have learned
+ That things will work to ends the slaves o' the world
+ Do never dream of. I _have_ been what he--
+ This Boy--when he comes forth with bloody hands--
+ Might envy, and am now,--but he shall know
+ What I am now--
+ [Goes and listens at the dungeon.]
+ Praying or parleying?--tut!
+ Is he not eyeless? He has been half-dead
+ These fifteen years--
+
+ [Enter female Beggar with two or three of her Companions.]
+
+ (Turning abruptly.) Ha! speak--what Thing art thou?
+ (Recognises her.) Heavens! my good friend! [To her.]
+
+
+BEGGAR Forgive me, gracious Sir!--
+
+
+OSWALD (to her companions)
+ Begone, ye Slaves, or I will raise a whirlwind
+ And send ye dancing to the clouds, like leaves.
+ [They retire affrighted.]
+
+
+BEGGAR Indeed we meant no harm; we lodge sometimes
+ In this deserted Castle--_I repent me._
+
+
+ [OSWALD goes to the dungeon--listens--returns to the Beggar.]
+
+
+OSWALD Woman, thou hast a helpless Infant--keep
+ Thy secret for its sake, or verily
+ That wretched life of thine shall be the forfeit.
+
+
+BEGGAR I _do_ repent me, Sir; I fear the curse
+ Of that blind Man. 'Twas not your money, Sir,--
+
+
+OSWALD Begone!
+
+
+BEGGAR (going)
+ There is some wicked deed in hand:
+ [Aside.]
+ Would I could find the old Man and his Daughter.
+
+
+ [Exit Beggar.]
+
+
+[MARMADUKE re-enters from the dungeon]
+
+
+OSWALD It is all over then;--your foolish fears
+ Are hushed to sleep, by your own act and deed,
+ Made quiet as he is.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Why came you down?
+ And when I felt your hand upon my arm
+ And spake to you, why did you give no answer?
+ Feared you to waken him? he must have been
+ In a deep sleep. I whispered to him thrice.
+ There are the strangest echoes in that place!
+
+
+OSWALD Tut! let them gabble till the day of doom.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Scarcely, by groping, had I reached the Spot,
+ When round my wrist I felt a cord drawn tight,
+ As if the blind Man's dog were pulling at it.
+
+
+OSWALD But after that?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The features of Idonea
+ Lurked in his face--
+
+OSWALD Psha! Never to these eyes
+ Will retribution show itself again
+ With aspect so inviting. Why forbid me
+ To share your triumph?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Yes, her very look,
+ Smiling in sleep--
+
+
+OSWALD A pretty feat of Fancy!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Though but a glimpse, it sent me to my prayers.
+
+
+OSWALD Is he alive?
+
+
+MARMADUKE What mean you? who alive?
+
+
+OSWALD Herbert! since you will have it, Baron Herbert;
+ He who will gain his Seignory when Idonea
+ Hath become Clifford's harlot--is _he_ living?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The old Man in that dungeon _is_ alive.
+
+
+OSWALD Henceforth, then, will I never in camp or field
+ Obey you more. Your weakness, to the Band,
+ Shall be proclaimed: brave Men, they all shall hear it.
+ You a protector of humanity!
+ Avenger you of outraged innocence!
+
+
+MARMADUKE 'Twas dark--dark as the grave; yet did I see,
+ Saw him--his face turned toward me; and I tell thee
+ Idonea's filial countenance was there
+ To baffle me--it put me to my prayers.
+ Upwards I cast my eyes, and, through a crevice,
+ Beheld a star twinkling above my head,
+ And, by the living God, I could not do it.
+ [Sinks exhausted.]
+
+
+OSWALD (to himself)
+ Now may I perish if this turn do more
+ Than make me change my course.
+ (To MARMADUKE.) Dear Marmaduke,
+ My words were rashly spoken; I recal them:
+ I feel my error; shedding human blood
+ Is a most serious thing.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Not I alone,
+ Thou too art deep in guilt.
+
+
+OSWALD We have indeed
+ Been most presumptuous. There _is_ guilt in this,
+ Else could so strong a mind have ever known
+ These trepidations? Plain it is that Heaven
+ Has marked out this foul Wretch as one whose crimes
+ Must never come before a mortal judgment-seat,
+ Or be chastised by mortal instruments.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ A thought that's worth a thousand worlds!
+
+ [Goes towards the dungeon.]
+
+
+OSWALD I grieve
+ That, in my zeal, I have caused you so much pain.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Think not of that! 'tis over--we are safe.
+
+
+OSWALD (as if to himself, yet speaking aloud)
+ The truth is hideous, but how stifle it?
+ [Turning to MARMADUKE.]
+ Give me your sword--nay, here are stones and fragments,
+ The least of which would beat out a man's brains;
+ Or you might drive your head against that wall.
+ No! this is not the place to hear the tale:
+ It should be told you pinioned in your bed,
+ Or on some vast and solitary plain
+ Blown to you from a trumpet.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Why talk thus?
+ Whate'er the monster brooding in your breast
+ I care not: fear I have none, and cannot fear--
+ [The sound of a horn is heard.]
+ That horn again--'Tis some one of our Troop;
+ What do they here? Listen!
+
+
+OSWALD What! dogged like thieves!
+
+
+[Enter WALLACE and LACY, etc.]
+
+
+LACY You are found at last, thanks to the vagrant Troop
+ For not misleading us.
+
+
+OSWALD (looking at WALLACE)
+ That subtle Greybeard--
+ I'd rather see my father's ghost.
+
+
+LACY (to MARMADUKE)
+ My Captain,
+ We come by order of the Band. Belike
+ You have not heard that Henry has at last
+ Dissolved the Barons' League, and sent abroad
+ His Sheriffs with fit force to reinstate
+ The genuine owners of such Lands and Baronies
+ As, in these long commotions, have been seized.
+ His Power is this way tending. It befits us
+ To stand upon our guard, and with our swords
+ Defend the innocent.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Lacy! we look
+ But at the surfaces of things; we hear
+ Of towns in flames, fields ravaged, young and old
+ Driven out in troops to want and nakedness;
+ Then grasp our swords and rush upon a cure
+ That flatters us, because it asks not thought:
+ The deeper malady is better hid;
+ The world is poisoned at the heart.
+
+
+LACY What mean you?
+
+
+WALLACE (whose eye has been fixed suspiciously upon OSWALD)
+ Ay, what is it you mean?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Hark'ee, my Friends;--
+ [Appearing gay.]
+ Were there a Man who, being weak and helpless
+ And most forlorn, should bribe a Mother, pressed
+ By penury, to yield him up her Daughter,
+ A little Infant, and instruct the Babe,
+ Prattling upon his knee, to call him Father--
+
+
+LACY Why, if his heart be tender, that offence
+ I could forgive him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (going on)
+ And should he make the Child
+ An instrument of falsehood, should he teach her
+ To stretch her arms, and dim the gladsome light
+ Of infant playfulness with piteous looks
+ Of misery that was not--
+
+LACY
+ Troth, 'tis hard--
+ But in a world like ours--
+
+
+MARMADUKE (changing his tone)
+ This self-same Man--
+ Even while he printed kisses on the cheek
+ Of this poor Babe, and taught its innocent tongue
+ To lisp the name of Father--could he look
+ To the unnatural harvest of that time
+ When he should give her up, a Woman grown,
+ To him who bid the highest in the market
+ Of foul pollution--
+
+
+LACY The whole visible world
+ Contains not such a Monster!
+
+
+MARMADUKE For this purpose
+ Should he resolve to taint her Soul by means
+ Which bathe the limbs in sweat to think of them;
+ Should he, by tales which would draw tears from iron,
+ Work on her nature, and so turn compassion
+ And gratitude to ministers of vice,
+ And make the spotless spirit of filial love
+ Prime mover in a plot to damn his Victim
+ Both soul and body--
+
+
+WALLACE 'Tis too horrible;
+ Oswald, what say you to it?
+
+
+LACY Hew him down,
+ And fling him to the ravens.
+
+
+MARMADUKE But his aspect
+ It is so meek, his countenance so venerable.
+
+
+WALLACE (with an appearance of mistrust)
+ But how, what say you, Oswald?
+
+
+LACY (at the same moment)
+ Stab him, were it
+ Before the Altar.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What, if he were sick,
+ Tottering upon the very verge of life,
+ And old, and blind--
+
+
+LACY Blind, say you?
+
+
+OSWALD (coming forward)
+ Are we Men,
+ Or own we baby Spirits? Genuine courage
+ Is not an accidental quality,
+ A thing dependent for its casual birth
+ On opposition and impediment.
+ Wisdom, if Justice speak the word, beats down
+ The giant's strength; and, at the voice of Justice,
+ Spares not the worm. The giant and the worm--
+ She weighs them in one scale. The wiles of woman,
+ And craft of age, seducing reason, first
+ Made weakness a protection, and obscured
+ The moral shapes of things. His tender cries
+ And helpless innocence--do they protect
+ The infant lamb? and shall the infirmities,
+ Which have enabled this enormous Culprit
+ To perpetrate his crimes, serve as a Sanctuary
+ To cover him from punishment? Shame!--Justice,
+ Admitting no resistance, bends alike
+ The feeble and the strong. She needs not here
+ Her bonds and chains, which make the mighty feeble.
+ --We recognise in this old Man a victim
+ Prepared already for the sacrifice.
+
+
+LACY By heaven, his words are reason!
+
+
+OSWALD Yes, my Friends,
+ His countenance is meek and venerable;
+ And, by the Mass, to see him at his prayers!--
+ I am of flesh and blood, and may I perish
+ When my heart does not ache to think of it!--
+ Poor Victim! not a virtue under heaven
+ But what was made an engine to ensnare thee;
+ But yet I trust, Idonea, thou art safe.
+
+
+LACY Idonea!
+
+
+WALLACE How! What? your Idonea?
+ [To MARMADUKE.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE _Mine;_
+ But now no longer mine. You know Lord Clifford;
+ He is the Man to whom the Maiden--pure
+ As beautiful, and gentle and benign,
+ And in her ample heart loving even me--
+ Was to be yielded up.
+
+
+LACY Now, by the head
+ Of my own child, this Man must die; my hand,
+ A worthier wanting, shall itself entwine
+ In his grey hairs!--
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to LACY)
+ I love the Father in thee.
+ You know me, Friends; I have a heart to feel,
+ And I have felt, more than perhaps becomes me
+ Or duty sanctions.
+
+
+LACY We will have ample justice.
+ Who are we, Friends? Do we not live on ground
+ Where Souls are self-defended, free to grow
+ Like mountain oaks rocked by the stormy wind?
+ Mark the Almighty Wisdom, which decreed
+ This monstrous crime to be laid open--_here,_
+ Where Reason has an eye that she can use,
+ And Men alone are Umpires. To the Camp
+ He shall be led, and there, the Country round
+ All gathered to the spot, in open day
+ Shall Nature be avenged.
+
+
+OSWALD 'Tis nobly thought;
+ His death will be a monument for ages.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (to LACY)
+ I thank you for that hint. He shall be brought
+ Before the Camp, and would that best and wisest
+ Of every country might be present. There,
+ His crime shall be proclaimed; and for the rest
+ It shall be done as Wisdom shall decide:
+ Meanwhile, do you two hasten back and see
+ That all is well prepared.
+
+
+WALLACE We will obey you.
+ (Aside.) But softly! we must look a little nearer.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Tell where you found us. At some future time
+ I will explain the cause.
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+SCENE--The door of the Hostel, a group of Pilgrims as before; IDONEA and
+the Host among them
+
+
+HOST Lady, you'll find your Father at the Convent
+ As I have told you: He left us yesterday
+ With two Companions; one of them, as seemed,
+ His most familiar Friend.
+ (Going.) There was a letter
+ Of which I heard them speak, but that I fancy
+ Has been forgotten.
+
+
+IDONEA (to Host)
+ Farewell!
+
+
+HOST
+ Gentle pilgrims,
+ St. Cuthbert speed you on your holy errand.
+
+
+[Exeunt IDONEA and Pilgrims.]
+
+
+[SCENE--A desolate Moor]
+
+
+[OSWALD (alone)]
+
+
+OSWALD Carry him to the Camp! Yes, to the Camp.
+ Oh, Wisdom! a most wise resolve! and then,
+ That half a word should blow it to the winds!
+ This last device must end my work.--Methinks
+ It were a pleasant pastime to construct
+ A scale and table of belief--as thus--
+ Two columns, one for passion, one for proof;
+ Each rises as the other falls: and first,
+ Passion a unit and _against_ us--proof--
+ Nay, we must travel in another path,
+ Or we're stuck fast for ever;--passion, then,
+ Shall be a unit _for_ us; proof--no, passion!
+ We'll not insult thy majesty by time,
+ Person, and place--the where, the when, the how,
+ And all particulars that dull brains require
+ To constitute the spiritless shape of Fact,
+ They bow to, calling the idol, Demonstration.
+ A whipping to the Moralists who preach
+ That misery is a sacred thing: for me,
+ I know no cheaper engine to degrade a man,
+ Nor any half so sure. This Stripling's mind
+ Is shaken till the dregs float on the surface;
+ And, in the storm and anguish of the heart,
+ He talks of a transition in his Soul,
+ And dreams that he is happy. We dissect
+ The senseless body, and why not the mind?--
+ These are strange sights--the mind of man, upturned,
+ Is in all natures a strange spectacle;
+ In some a hideous one--hem! shall I stop?
+ No.--Thoughts and feelings will sink deep, but then
+ They have no substance. Pass but a few minutes,
+ And something shall be done which Memory
+ May touch, whene'er her Vassals are at work.
+
+
+[Enter MARMADUKE, from behind]
+
+
+OSWALD (turning to meet him)
+ But listen, for my peace--
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ Why, I _believe_ you.
+
+
+OSWALD But hear the proofs--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ay, prove that when two peas
+ Lie snugly in a pod, the pod must then
+ Be larger than the peas--prove this--'twere matter
+ Worthy the hearing. Fool was I to dream
+ It ever could be otherwise!
+
+
+OSWALD Last night
+ When I returned with water from the brook,
+ I overheard the Villains--every word
+ Like red-hot iron burnt into my heart.
+ Said one, "It is agreed on. The blind Man
+ Shall feign a sudden illness, and the Girl,
+ Who on her journey must proceed alone,
+ Under pretence of violence, be seized.
+ She is," continued the detested Slave,
+ "She is right willing--strange if she were not!--
+ They say, Lord Clifford is a savage man;
+ But, faith, to see him in his silken tunic,
+ Fitting his low voice to the minstrel's harp,
+ There's witchery in't. I never knew a maid
+ That could withstand it. True," continued he,
+ "When we arranged the affair, she wept a little
+ (Not the less welcome to my Lord for that)
+ And said, 'My Father he will have it so.'"
+
+
+MARMADUKE I am your hearer.
+
+OSWALD This I caught, and more
+ That may not be retold to any ear.
+ The obstinate bolt of a small iron door
+ Detained them near the gateway of the Castle.
+ By a dim lantern's light I saw that wreaths
+ Of flowers were in their hands, as if designed
+ For festive decoration; and they said,
+ With brutal laughter and most foul allusion,
+ That they should share the banquet with their Lord
+ And his new Favorite.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ Misery!--
+
+OSWALD I knew
+ How you would be disturbed by this dire news,
+ And therefore chose this solitary Moor,
+ Here to impart the tale, of which, last night,
+ I strove to ease my mind, when our two Comrades,
+ Commissioned by the Band, burst in upon us.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Last night, when moved to lift the avenging steel,
+ I did believe all things were shadows--yea,
+ Living or dead all things were bodiless,
+ Or but the mutual mockeries of body,
+ Till that same star summoned me back again.
+ Now I could laugh till my ribs ached. Fool!
+ To let a creed, built in the heart of things,
+ Dissolve before a twinkling atom!--Oswald,
+ I could fetch lessons out of wiser schools
+ Than you have entered, were it worth the pains.
+ Young as I am, I might go forth a teacher,
+ And you should see how deeply I could reason
+ Of love in all its shapes, beginnings, ends;
+ Of moral qualities in their diverse aspects;
+ Of actions, and their laws and tendencies.
+
+
+OSWALD You take it as it merits--
+
+
+MARMADUKE One a King,
+ General or Cham, Sultan or Emperor,
+ Strews twenty acres of good meadow-ground
+ With carcases, in lineament and shape
+ And substance, nothing differing from his own,
+ But that they cannot stand up of themselves;
+ Another sits i' th' sun, and by the hour
+ Floats kingcups in the brook--a Hero one
+ We call, and scorn the other as Time's spendthrift;
+ But have they not a world of common ground
+ To occupy--both fools, or wise alike,
+ Each in his way?
+
+
+OSWALD Troth, I begin to think so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Now for the corner-stone of my philosophy:
+ I would not give a denier for the man
+ Who, on such provocation as this earth
+ Yields, could not chuck his babe beneath the chin,
+ And send it with a fillip to its grave.
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, you leave me behind.
+
+
+MARMADUKE That such a One,
+ So pious in demeanour! in his look
+ So saintly and so pure!--Hark'ee, my Friend,
+ I'll plant myself before Lord Clifford's Castle,
+ A surly mastiff kennels at the gate,
+ And he shall howl and I will laugh, a medley
+ Most tunable.
+
+OSWALD In faith, a pleasant scheme;
+ But take your sword along with you, for that
+ Might in such neighbourhood find seemly use.--
+ But first, how wash our hands of this old Man?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Oh yes, that mole, that viper in the path;
+ Plague on my memory, him I had forgotten.
+
+
+OSWALD You know we left him sitting--see him yonder.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ha! ha!--
+
+
+OSWALD As 'twill be but a moment's work,
+ I will stroll on; you follow when 'tis done.
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+
+SCENE changes to another part of the Moor at a short distance--HERBERT
+is discovered seated on a stone
+
+
+HERBERT A sound of laughter, too!--'tis well--I feared,
+ The Stranger had some pitiable sorrow
+ Pressing upon his solitary heart.
+ Hush!--'tis the feeble and earth-loving wind
+ That creeps along the bells of the crisp heather.
+ Alas! 'tis cold--I shiver in the sunshine--
+ What can this mean? There is a psalm that speaks
+ Of God's parental mercies--with Idonea
+ I used to sing it.--Listen!--what foot is there?
+
+
+[Enter MARMADUKE]
+
+
+MARMADUKE (aside--looking at HERBERT)
+ And I have loved this Man! and _she_ hath loved him!
+ And I loved her, and she loves the Lord Clifford!
+ And there it ends;--if this be not enough
+ To make mankind merry for evermore,
+ Then plain it is as day, that eyes were made
+ For a wise purpose--verily to weep with!
+ [Looking round.]
+ A pretty prospect this, a masterpiece
+ Of Nature, finished with most curious skill!
+(To HERBERT.) Good Baron, have you ever practised tillage?
+ Pray tell me what this land is worth by the acre?
+
+
+HERBERT How glad I am to hear your voice! I know not
+ Wherein I have offended you;--last night
+ I found in you the kindest of Protectors;
+ This morning, when I spoke of weariness,
+ You from my shoulder took my scrip and threw it
+ About your own; but for these two hours past
+ Once only have you spoken, when the lark
+ Whirred from among the fern beneath our feet,
+ And I, no coward in my better days,
+ Was almost terrified.
+
+
+MARMADUKE That's excellent!--
+ So, you bethought you of the many ways
+ In which a man may come to his end, whose crimes
+ Have roused all Nature up against him--pshaw!--
+
+
+HERBERT For mercy's sake, is nobody in sight?
+ No traveller, peasant, herdsman?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Not a soul:
+ Here is a tree, ragged, and bent, and bare,
+ That turns its goat's-beard flakes of pea-green moss
+ From the stern breathing of the rough sea-wind;
+ This have we, but no other company:
+ Commend me to the place. If a man should die
+ And leave his body here, it were all one
+ As he were twenty fathoms underground.
+
+
+HERBERT Where is our common Friend?
+
+
+MARMADUKE A ghost, methinks--
+ The Spirit of a murdered man, for instance--
+ Might have fine room to ramble about here,
+ A grand domain to squeak and gibber in.
+
+
+HERBERT Lost Man! if thou have any close-pent guilt
+ Pressing upon thy heart, and this the hour
+ Of visitation--
+
+
+MARMADUKE A bold word from _you_!
+
+
+HERBERT Restore him, Heaven!
+
+
+MARMADUKE The desperate Wretch!--A Flower,
+ Fairest of all flowers, was she once, but now
+ They have snapped her from the stem--Poh! let her lie
+ Besoiled with mire, and let the houseless snail
+ Feed on her leaves. You knew her well--ay, there,
+ Old Man! you were a very Lynx, you knew
+ The worm was in her--
+
+
+HERBERT Mercy! Sir, what mean you?
+
+
+MARMADUKE You have a Daughter!
+
+
+HERBERT Oh that she were here!--
+ She hath an eye that sinks into all hearts,
+ And if I have in aught offended you,
+ Soon would her gentle voice make peace between us.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (aside)
+ I do believe he weeps--I could weep too--
+ There is a vein of her voice that runs through his:
+ Even such a Man my fancy bodied forth
+ From the first moment that I loved the Maid;
+ And for his sake I loved her more: these tears--
+ I did not think that aught was left in me
+ Of what I have been--yes, I thank thee, Heaven!
+ One happy thought has passed across my mind.
+ --It may not be--I am cut off from man;
+ No more shall I be man--no more shall I
+ Have human feelings!--
+ (To HERBERT) --Now, for a little more
+ About your Daughter!
+
+
+HERBERT Troops of armed men,
+ Met in the roads, would bless us; little children,
+ Rushing along in the full tide of play,
+ Stood silent as we passed them! I have heard
+ The boisterous carman, in the miry road,
+ Check his loud whip and hail us with mild voice,
+ And speak with milder voice to his poor beasts.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And whither were you going?
+
+
+HERBERT Learn, young Man,--
+ To fear the virtuous, and reverence misery,
+ Whether too much for patience, or, like mine,
+ Softened till it becomes a gift of mercy.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Now, this is as it should be!
+
+
+HERBERT I am weak!--
+ My Daughter does not know how weak I am;
+ And, as thou see'st, under the arch of heaven
+ Here do I stand, alone, to helplessness,
+ By the good God, our common Father, doomed!--
+ But I had once a spirit and an arm--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Now, for a word about your Barony:
+ I fancy when you left the Holy Land,
+ And came to--what's your title--eh? your claims
+ Were undisputed!
+
+HERBERT Like a mendicant,
+ Whom no one comes to meet, I stood alone;--
+ I murmured--but, remembering Him who feeds
+ The pelican and ostrich of the desert,
+ From my own threshold I looked up to Heaven
+ And did not want glimmerings of quiet hope.
+ So, from the court I passed, and down the brook,
+ Led by its murmur, to the ancient oak
+ I came; and when I felt its cooling shade,
+ I sate me down, and cannot but believe--
+ While in my lap I held my little Babe
+ And clasped her to my heart, my heart that ached
+ More with delight than grief--I heard a voice
+ Such as by Cherith on Elijah called;
+ It said, "I will be with thee." A little boy,
+ A shepherd-lad, ere yet my trance was gone,
+ Hailed us as if he had been sent from heaven,
+ And said, with tears, that he would be our guide:
+ I had a better guide--that innocent Babe--
+ Her, who hath saved me, to this hour, from harm,
+ From cold, from hunger, penury, and death;
+ To whom I owe the best of all the good
+ I have, or wish for, upon earth--and more
+ And higher far than lies within earth's bounds:
+ Therefore I bless her: when I think of Man,
+ I bless her with sad spirit,--when of God,
+ I bless her in the fulness of my joy!
+
+
+MARMADUKE The name of daughter in his mouth, he prays!
+ With nerves so steady, that the very flies
+ Sit unmolested on his staff.--Innocent!--
+ If he were innocent--then he would tremble
+ And be disturbed, as I am.
+ (Turning aside.) I have read
+ In Story, what men now alive have witnessed,
+ How, when the People's mind was racked with doubt,
+ Appeal was made to the great Judge: the Accused
+ With naked feet walked over burning ploughshares.
+ Here is a Man by Nature's hand prepared
+ For a like trial, but more merciful.
+ Why else have I been led to this bleak Waste?
+ Bare is it, without house or track, and destitute
+ Of obvious shelter, as a shipless sea.
+ Here will I leave him--here--All-seeing God!
+ Such as _he_ is, and sore perplexed as I am,
+ I will commit him to this final _Ordeal!_--
+ He heard a voice--a shepherd-lad came to him
+ And was his guide; if once, why not again,
+ And in this desert? If never--then the whole
+ Of what he says, and looks, and does, and is,
+ Makes up one damning falsehood. Leave him here
+ To cold and hunger!--Pain is of the heart,
+ And what are a few throes of bodily suffering
+ If they can waken one pang of remorse?
+ [Goes up to HERBERT.]
+ Old Man! my wrath is as a flame burnt out,
+ It cannot be rekindled. Thou art here
+ Led by my hand to save thee from perdition:
+ Thou wilt have time to breathe and think--
+
+
+HERBERT Oh, Mercy!
+
+
+MARMADUKE I know the need that all men have of mercy,
+ And therefore leave thee to a righteous judgment.
+
+
+HERBERT My Child, my blessed Child!
+
+MARMADUKE No more of that;
+ Thou wilt have many guides if thou art innocent;
+ Yea, from the utmost corners of the earth,
+ That Woman will come o'er this Waste to save thee.
+ [He pauses and looks at HERBERT'S staff.]
+ Ha! what is here? and carved by her own hand!
+ [Reads upon the staff.]
+ "I am eyes to the blind, saith the Lord.
+ He that puts his trust in me shall not fail!"
+ Yes, be it so;--repent and be forgiven--
+ God and that staff are now thy only guides.
+ [He leaves HERBERT on the Moor.]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE--An eminence, a Beacon on the summit
+
+LACY, WALLACE, LENNOX, etc. etc.
+
+
+SEVERAL OF THE BAND (confusedly) But patience!
+
+
+ONE OF THE BAND Curses on that Traitor, Oswald!--
+ Our Captain made a prey to foul device!--
+
+
+LENNOX (to WALLACE)
+ His tool, the wandering Beggar, made last night
+ A plain confession, such as leaves no doubt,
+ Knowing what otherwise we know too well,
+ That she revealed the truth. Stand by me now;
+ For rather would I have a nest of vipers
+ Between my breast-plate and my skin, than make
+ Oswald my special enemy, if you
+ Deny me your support.
+
+
+LACY We have been fooled--
+ But for the motive?
+
+
+WALLACE Natures such as his
+ Spin motives out of their own bowels, Lacy!
+ I learn'd this when I was a Confessor.
+ I know him well; there needs no other motive
+ Than that most strange incontinence in crime
+ Which haunts this Oswald. Power is life to him
+ And breath and being; where he cannot govern,
+ He will destroy.
+
+
+LACY To have been trapped like moles!--
+ Yes, you are right, we need not hunt for motives:
+ There is no crime from which this man would shrink;
+ He recks not human law; and I have noticed
+ That often when the name of God is uttered,
+ A sudden blankness overspreads his face.
+
+
+LENNOX Yet, reasoner as he is, his pride has built
+ Some uncouth superstition of its own.
+
+
+WALLACE I have seen traces of it.
+
+
+LENNOX Once he headed
+ A band of Pirates in the Norway seas;
+ And when the King of Denmark summoned him
+ To the oath of fealty, I well remember,
+ 'Twas a strange answer that he made; he said,
+ "I hold of Spirits, and the Sun in heaven."
+
+
+LACY
+ He is no madman.
+
+WALLACE
+ A most subtle doctor
+ Were that man, who could draw the line that parts
+ Pride and her daughter, Cruelty, from Madness,
+ That should be scourged, not pitied. Restless Minds,
+ Such Minds as find amid their fellow-men
+ No heart that loves them, none that they can love,
+ Will turn perforce and seek for sympathy
+ In dim relation to imagined Beings.
+
+
+ONE OF THE BAND
+ What if he mean to offer up our Captain
+ An expiation and a sacrifice
+ To those infernal fiends!
+
+
+WALLACE Now, if the event
+ Should be as Lennox has foretold, then swear,
+ My Friends, his heart shall have as many wounds
+ As there are daggers here.
+
+
+LACY What need of swearing!
+
+
+ONE OF THE BAND Let us away!
+
+
+ANOTHER Away!
+
+
+A THIRD Hark! how the horns
+ Of those Scotch Rovers echo through the vale.
+
+
+LACY Stay you behind; and when the sun is down,
+ Light up this beacon.
+
+ONE OF THE BAND You shall be obeyed.
+
+
+ [They go out together.]
+
+
+
+SCENE--The Wood on the edge of the Moor.
+
+MARMADUKE (alone)
+
+
+MARMADUKE Deep, deep and vast, vast beyond human thought,
+ Yet calm.--I could believe, that there was here
+ The only quiet heart on earth. In terror,
+ Remembered terror, there is peace and rest.
+
+
+[Enter OSWALD]
+
+
+OSWALD Ha! my dear Captain.
+
+
+
+MARMADUKE A later meeting, Oswald,
+ Would have been better timed.
+
+
+OSWALD Alone, I see;
+ You have done your duty. I had hopes, which now
+ I feel that you will justify.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I had fears,
+ From which I have freed myself--but 'tis my wish
+ To be alone, and therefore we must part.
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, then--I am mistaken. There's a weakness
+ About you still; you talk of solitude--
+ I am your friend.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What need of this assurance
+ At any time? and why given now?
+
+
+OSWALD Because
+ You are now in truth my Master; you have taught me
+ What there is not another living man
+ Had strength to teach;--and therefore gratitude
+ Is bold, and would relieve itself by praise.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Wherefore press this on me?
+
+OSWALD Because I feel
+ That you have shown, and by a signal instance,
+ How they who would be just must seek the rule
+ By diving for it into their own bosoms.
+ To-day you have thrown off a tyranny
+ That lives but in the torpid acquiescence
+ Of our emasculated souls, the tyranny
+ Of the world's masters, with the musty rules
+ By which they uphold their craft from age to age:
+ You have obeyed the only law that sense
+ Submits to recognise; the immediate law,
+ From the clear light of circumstances, flashed
+ Upon an independent Intellect.
+ Henceforth new prospects open on your path;
+ Your faculties should grow with the demand;
+ I still will be your friend, will cleave to you
+ Through good and evil, obloquy and scorn,
+ Oft as they dare to follow on your steps.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I would be left alone.
+
+
+OSWALD (exultingly)
+ I know your motives!
+ I am not of the world's presumptuous judges,
+ Who damn where they can neither see nor feel,
+ With a hard-hearted ignorance; your struggles
+ I witness'd, and now hail your victory.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Spare me awhile that greeting.
+
+
+OSWALD It may be,
+ That some there are, squeamish half-thinking cowards,
+ Who will turn pale upon you, call you murderer,
+ And you will walk in solitude among them.
+ A mighty evil for a strong-built mind!--
+ Join twenty tapers of unequal height
+ And light them joined, and you will see the less
+ How 'twill burn down the taller; and they all
+ Shall prey upon the tallest. Solitude!--
+ The Eagle lives in Solitude!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Even so,
+ The Sparrow so on the house-top, and I,
+ The weakest of God's creatures, stand resolved
+ To abide the issue of my act, alone.
+
+
+OSWALD _Now_ would you? and for ever?--My young Friend,
+ As time advances either we become
+ The prey or masters of our own past deeds.
+ Fellowship we _must_ have, willing or no;
+ And if good Angels fail, slack in their duty,
+ Substitutes, turn our faces where we may,
+ Are still forthcoming; some which, though they bear
+ Ill names, can render no ill services,
+ In recompense for what themselves required.
+ So meet extremes in this mysterious world,
+ And opposites thus melt into each other.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Time, since Man first drew breath, has never moved
+ With such a weight upon his wings as now;
+ But they will soon be lightened.
+
+
+OSWALD Ay, look up--
+ Cast round you your mind's eye, and you will learn
+ Fortitude is the child of Enterprise:
+ Great actions move our admiration, chiefly
+ Because they carry in themselves an earnest
+ That we can suffer greatly.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Very true.
+
+
+OSWALD Action is transitory--a step, a blow,
+ The motion of a muscle--this way or that--
+ 'Tis done, and in the after-vacancy
+ We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed:
+ Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark,
+ And shares the nature of infinity.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Truth--and I feel it.
+
+
+OSWALD What! if you had bid
+ Eternal farewell to unmingled joy
+ And the light dancing of the thoughtless heart;
+ It is the toy of fools, and little fit
+ For such a world as this. The wise abjure
+ All thoughts whose idle composition lives
+ In the entire forgetfulness of pain.
+ --I see I have disturbed you.
+
+
+MARMADUKE By no means.
+
+
+OSWALD Compassion!--pity!--pride can do without them;
+ And what if you should never know them more!--
+ He is a puny soul who, feeling pain,
+ Finds ease because another feels it too.
+ If e'er I open out this heart of mine
+ It shall be for a nobler end--to teach
+ And not to purchase puling sympathy.
+ --Nay, you are pale.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ It may be so.
+
+
+OSWALD Remorse--
+ It cannot live with thought; think on, think on,
+ And it will die. What! in this universe,
+ Where the least things control the greatest, where
+ The faintest breath that breathes can move a world;
+ What! feel remorse, where, if a cat had sneezed,
+ A leaf had fallen, the thing had never been
+ Whose very shadow gnaws us to the vitals.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Now, whither are you wandering? That a man
+ So used to suit his language to the time,
+ Should thus so widely differ from himself--
+ It is most strange.
+
+
+OSWALD Murder!--what's in the word!--
+ I have no cases by me ready made
+ To fit all deeds. Carry him to the Camp!--
+ A shallow project;--you of late have seen
+ More deeply, taught us that the institutes
+ Of Nature, by a cunning usurpation
+ Banished from human intercourse, exist
+ Only in our relations to the brutes
+ That make the fields their dwelling. If a snake
+ Crawl from beneath our feet we do not ask
+ A license to destroy him: our good governors
+ Hedge in the life of every pest and plague
+ That bears the shape of man; and for what purpose,
+ But to protect themselves from extirpation?--
+ This flimsy barrier you have overleaped.
+
+
+MARMADUKE My Office is fulfilled--the Man is now
+ Delivered to the Judge of all things.
+
+
+OSWALD
+ Dead!
+
+MARMADUKE I have borne my burthen to its destined end.
+
+
+OSWALD This instant we'll return to our Companions--
+ Oh how I long to see their faces again!
+
+
+[Enter IDONEA with Pilgrims who continue their journey.]
+
+
+IDONEA (after some time)
+ What, Marmaduke! now thou art mine for ever.
+ And Oswald, too!
+ (To MARMADUKE.) On will we to my Father
+ With the glad tidings which this day hath brought;
+ We'll go together, and, such proof received
+ Of his own rights restored, his gratitude
+ To God above will make him feel for ours.
+
+
+OSWALD I interrupt you?
+
+
+IDONEA Think not so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Idonea,
+ That I should ever live to see this moment!
+
+
+IDONEA Forgive me.--Oswald knows it all--he knows,
+ Each word of that unhappy letter fell
+ As a blood drop from my heart.
+
+
+OSWALD 'Twas even so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I have much to say, but for whose ear?--not thine.
+
+
+IDONEA Ill can I bear that look--Plead for me, Oswald!
+ You are my Father's Friend.
+ (To MARMADUKE.) Alas, you know not,
+ And never _can_ you know, how much he loved me.
+ Twice had he been to me a father, twice
+ Had given me breath, and was I not to be
+ His daughter, once his daughter? could I withstand
+ His pleading face, and feel his clasping arms,
+ And hear his prayer that I would not forsake him
+ In his old age--
+ [Hides her face.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE Patience--Heaven grant me patience!--
+ She weeps, she weeps--_my_ brain shall burn for hours
+ Ere _I_ can shed a tear.
+
+
+IDONEA I was a woman;
+ And, balancing the hopes that are the dearest
+ To womankind with duty to my Father,
+ I yielded up those precious hopes, which nought
+ On earth could else have wrested from me;--if erring,
+ Oh let me be forgiven!
+
+
+MARMADUKE I _do_ forgive thee.
+
+
+IDONEA But take me to your arms--this breast, alas!
+ It throbs, and you have a heart that does not feel it.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (exultingly)
+ She is innocent. [He embraces her.]
+
+
+OSWALD (aside)
+ Were I a Moralist,
+ I should make wondrous revolution here;
+ It were a quaint experiment to show
+ The beauty of truth-- [Addressing them.]
+ I see I interrupt you;
+ I shall have business with you, Marmaduke;
+ Follow me to the Hostel.
+
+ [Exit OSWALD.]
+
+
+IDONEA Marmaduke,
+ This is a happy day. My Father soon
+ Shall sun himself before his native doors;
+ The lame, the hungry, will be welcome there.
+ No more shall he complain of wasted strength,
+ Of thoughts that fail, and a decaying heart;
+ His good works will be balm and life to him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE This is most strange!--I know not what it was,
+ But there was something which most plainly said,
+ That thou wert innocent.
+
+
+IDONEA How innocent!--
+ Oh heavens! you've been deceived.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Thou art a Woman
+ To bring perdition on the universe.
+
+
+IDONEA Already I've been punished to the height
+ Of my offence.
+ [Smiling affectionately.]
+ I see you love me still,
+ The labours of my hand are still your joy;
+ Bethink you of the hour when on your shoulder
+ I hung this belt.
+ [Pointing to the belt on which was suspended HERBERT'S scrip.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE Mercy of Heaven! [Sinks.]
+
+
+IDONEA What ails you? [Distractedly.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE The scrip that held his food, and I forgot
+ To give it back again!
+
+
+IDONEA What mean your words?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I know not what I said--all may be well.
+
+
+IDONEA That smile hath life in it!
+
+
+MARMADUKE This road is perilous;
+ I will attend you to a Hut that stands
+ Near the wood's edge--rest there to-night, I pray you:
+ For me, I have business, as you heard, with Oswald,
+ But will return to you by break of day.
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+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--HERBERT enters exhausted.
+
+
+HERBERT That Chapel-bell in mercy seemed to guide me,
+ But now it mocks my steps; its fitful stroke
+ Can scarcely be the work of human hands.
+ Hear me, ye Men, upon the cliffs, if such
+ There be who pray nightly before the Altar.
+ Oh that I had but strength to reach the place!
+ My Child--my Child--dark--dark--I faint--this wind--
+ These stifling blasts--God help me!
+
+
+[Enter ELDRED.]
+
+
+ELDRED Better this bare rock,
+ Though it were tottering over a man's head,
+ Than a tight case of dungeon walls for shelter
+ From such rough dealing.
+ [A moaning voice is heard.]
+ Ha! what sound is that?
+ Trees creaking in the wind (but none are here)
+ Send forth such noises--and that weary bell!
+ Surely some evil Spirit abroad to-night
+ Is ringing it--'twould stop a Saint in prayer,
+ And that--what is it? never was sound so like
+ A human groan. Ha! what is here? Poor Man--
+ Murdered! alas! speak--speak, I am your friend:
+ No answer--hush--lost wretch, he lifts his hand
+ And lays it to his heart--
+ (Kneels to him.) I pray you speak!
+ What has befallen you?
+
+
+HERBERT (feebly)
+ A stranger has done this,
+ And in the arms of a stranger I must die.
+
+ELDRED Nay, think not so: come, let me raise you up:
+ [Raises him.]
+ This is a dismal place--well--that is well--
+ I was too fearful--take me for your guide
+ And your support--my hut is not far off.
+ [Draws him gently off the stage.]
+
+
+
+SCENE--A room in the Hostel--MARMADUKE and OSWALD
+
+
+MARMADUKE But for Idonea!--I have cause to think
+ That she is innocent.
+
+
+OSWALD Leave that thought awhile,
+ As one of those beliefs which in their hearts
+ Lovers lock up as pearls, though oft no better
+ Than feathers clinging to their points of passion.
+ This day's event has laid on me the duty
+ Of opening out my story; you must hear it,
+ And without further preface.--In my youth,
+ Except for that abatement which is paid
+ By envy as a tribute to desert,
+ I was the pleasure of all hearts, the darling
+ Of every tongue--as you are now. You've heard
+ That I embarked for Syria. On our voyage
+ Was hatched among the crew a foul Conspiracy
+ Against my honour, in the which our Captain
+ Was, I believed, prime Agent. The wind fell;
+ We lay becalmed week after week, until
+ The water of the vessel was exhausted;
+ I felt a double fever in my veins,
+ Yet rage suppressed itself;--to a deep stillness
+ Did my pride tame my pride;--for many days,
+ On a dead sea under a burning sky,
+ I brooded o'er my injuries, deserted
+ By man and nature;--if a breeze had blown,
+ It might have found its way into my heart,
+ And I had been--no matter--do you mark me?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Quick--to the point--if any untold crime
+ Doth haunt your memory.
+
+
+OSWALD Patience, hear me further!--
+ One day in silence did we drift at noon
+ By a bare rock, narrow, and white, and bare;
+ No food was there, no drink, no grass, no shade,
+ No tree, nor jutting eminence, nor form
+ Inanimate large as the body of man,
+ Nor any living thing whose lot of life
+ Might stretch beyond the measure of one moon.
+ To dig for water on the spot, the Captain
+ Landed with a small troop, myself being one:
+ There I reproached him with his treachery.
+ Imperious at all times, his temper rose;
+ He struck me; and that instant had I killed him,
+ And put an end to his insolence, but my Comrades
+ Rushed in between us: then did I insist
+ (All hated him, and I was stung to madness)
+ That we should leave him there, alive!--we did so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And he was famished?
+
+
+OSWALD Naked was the spot;
+ Methinks I see it now--how in the sun
+ Its stony surface glittered like a shield;
+ And in that miserable place we left him,
+ Alone but for a swarm of minute creatures
+ Not one of which could help him while alive,
+ Or mourn him dead.
+
+
+MARMADUKE A man by men cast off,
+ Left without burial! nay, not dead nor dying,
+ But standing, walking, stretching forth his arms,
+ In all things like ourselves, but in the agony
+ With which he called for mercy; and--even so--
+ He was forsaken?
+
+
+OSWALD There is a power in sounds:
+ The cries he uttered might have stopped the boat
+ That bore us through the water--
+
+
+MARMADUKE You returned
+ Upon that dismal hearing--did you not?
+
+
+OSWALD Some scoffed at him with hellish mockery,
+ And laughed so loud it seemed that the smooth sea
+ Did from some distant region echo us.
+
+
+MARMADUKE We all are of one blood, our veins are filled
+ At the same poisonous fountain!
+
+
+OSWALD 'Twas an island
+ Only by sufferance of the winds and waves,
+ Which with their foam could cover it at will.
+ I know not how he perished; but the calm,
+ The same dead calm, continued many days.
+
+
+MARMADUKE
+ But his own crime had brought on him this doom,
+ His wickedness prepared it; these expedients
+ Are terrible, yet ours is not the fault.
+
+
+OSWALD The man was famished, and was innocent!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Impossible!
+
+
+OSWALD The man had never wronged me.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Banish the thought, crush it, and be at peace.
+ His guilt was marked--these things could never be
+ Were there not eyes that see, and for good ends,
+ Where ours are baffled.
+
+
+OSWALD I had been deceived.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And from that hour the miserable man
+ No more was heard of?
+
+
+OSWALD I had been betrayed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE And he found no deliverance!
+
+
+OSWALD The Crew
+ Gave me a hearty welcome; they had laid
+ The plot to rid themselves, at any cost,
+ Of a tyrannic Master whom they loathed.
+ So we pursued our voyage: when we landed,
+ The tale was spread abroad; my power at once
+ Shrunk from me; plans and schemes, and lofty hopes--
+ All vanished. I gave way--do you attend?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The Crew deceived you?
+
+
+OSWALD Nay, command yourself.
+
+
+MARMADUKE It is a dismal night--how the wind howls!
+
+
+OSWALD I hid my head within a Convent, there
+ Lay passive as a dormouse in mid winter.
+ That was no life for me--I was o'erthrown
+ But not destroyed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE The proofs--you ought to have seen
+ The guilt--have touched it--felt it at your heart--
+ As I have done.
+
+
+OSWALD A fresh tide of Crusaders
+ Drove by the place of my retreat: three nights
+ Did constant meditation dry my blood;
+ Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
+ Through words and things, a dim and perilous way;
+ And, wheresoe'er I turned me, I beheld
+ A slavery compared to which the dungeon
+ And clanking chains are perfect liberty.
+ You understand me--I was comforted;
+ I saw that every possible shape of action
+ Might lead to good--I saw it and burst forth
+ Thirsting for some of those exploits that fill
+ The earth for sure redemption of lost peace.
+ [Marking MARMADUKE'S countenance.]
+ Nay, you have had the worst. Ferocity
+ Subsided in a moment, like a wind
+ That drops down dead out of a sky it vexed.
+ And yet I had within me evermore
+ A salient spring of energy; I mounted
+ From action up to action with a mind
+ That never rested--without meat or drink
+ Have I lived many days--my sleep was bound
+ To purposes of reason--not a dream
+ But had a continuity and substance
+ That waking life had never power to give.
+
+
+MARMADUKE O wretched Human-kind!--Until the mystery
+ Of all this world is solved, well may we envy
+ The worm, that, underneath a stone whose weight
+ Would crush the lion's paw with mortal anguish,
+ Doth lodge, and feed, and coil, and sleep, in safety.
+ Fell not the wrath of Heaven upon those traitors?
+
+
+OSWALD Give not to them a thought. From Palestine
+ We marched to Syria: oft I left the Camp,
+ When all that multitude of hearts was still,
+ And followed on, through woods of gloomy cedar,
+ Into deep chasms troubled by roaring streams;
+ Or from the top of Lebanon surveyed
+ The moonlight desert, and the moonlight sea:
+ In these my lonely wanderings I perceived
+ What mighty objects do impress their forms
+ To elevate our intellectual being;
+ And felt, if aught on earth deserves a curse,
+ 'Tis that worst principle of ill which dooms
+ A thing so great to perish self-consumed.
+ --So much for my remorse!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Unhappy Man!
+
+
+OSWALD When from these forms I turned to contemplate
+ The World's opinions and her usages,
+ I seemed a Being who had passed alone
+ Into a region of futurity,
+ Whose natural element was freedom--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Stop--
+ I may not, cannot, follow thee.
+
+
+OSWALD You must.
+ I had been nourished by the sickly food
+ Of popular applause. I now perceived
+ That we are praised, only as men in us
+ Do recognise some image of themselves,
+ An abject counterpart of what they are,
+ Or the empty thing that they would wish to be.
+ I felt that merit has no surer test
+ Than obloquy; that, if we wish to serve
+ The world in substance, not deceive by show,
+ We must become obnoxious to its hate,
+ Or fear disguised in simulated scorn.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I pity, can forgive, you; but those wretches--
+ That monstrous perfidy!
+
+
+OSWALD Keep down your wrath.
+ False Shame discarded, spurious Fame despised,
+ Twin sisters both of Ignorance, I found
+ Life stretched before me smooth as some broad way
+ Cleared for a monarch's progress. Priests might spin
+ Their veil, but not for me--'twas in fit place
+ Among its kindred cobwebs. I had been,
+ And in that dream had left my native land,
+ One of Love's simple bondsmen--the soft chain
+ Was off for ever; and the men, from whom
+ This liberation came, you would destroy:
+ Join me in thanks for their blind services.
+
+
+MARMADUKE 'Tis a strange aching that, when we would curse
+ And cannot.--You have betrayed me--I have done--
+ I am content--I know that he is guiltless--
+ That both are guiltless, without spot or stain,
+ Mutually consecrated. Poor old Man!
+ And I had heart for this, because thou lovedst
+ Her who from very infancy had been
+ Light to thy path, warmth to thy blood!--Together
+ [Turning to OSWALD.]
+ We propped his steps, he leaned upon us both.
+
+
+OSWALD Ay, we are coupled by a chain of adamant;
+ Let us be fellow-labourers, then, to enlarge
+ Man's intellectual empire. We subsist
+ In slavery; all is slavery; we receive
+ Laws, but we ask not whence those laws have come;
+ We need an inward sting to goad us on.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Have you betrayed me? Speak to that.
+
+
+OSWALD The mask,
+ Which for a season I have stooped to wear,
+ Must be cast off.--Know then that I was urged,
+ (For other impulse let it pass) was driven,
+ To seek for sympathy, because I saw
+ In you a mirror of my youthful self;
+ I would have made us equal once again,
+ But that was a vain hope. You have struck home,
+ With a few drops of blood cut short the business;
+ Therein for ever you must yield to me.
+ But what is done will save you from the blank
+ Of living without knowledge that you live:
+ Now you are suffering--for the future day,
+ 'Tis his who will command it.--Think of my story--
+ Herbert is _innocent_.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (in a faint voice, and doubtingly)
+ You do but echo
+ My own wild words?
+
+
+OSWALD Young Man, the seed must lie
+ Hid in the earth, or there can be no harvest;
+ 'Tis Nature's law. What I have done in darkness
+ I will avow before the face of day.
+ Herbert _is_ innocent.
+
+
+MARMADUKE What fiend could prompt
+ This action? Innocent!--oh, breaking heart!--
+ Alive or dead, I'll find him.
+
+ [Exit.]
+
+
+OSWALD
+ Alive--perdition!
+
+ [Exit.]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE--The inside of a poor Cottage
+
+ELEANOR and IDONEA seated
+
+
+IDONEA The storm beats hard--Mercy for poor or rich,
+ Whose heads are shelterless in such a night!
+
+
+A VOICE WITHOUT
+ Holla! to bed, good Folks, within!
+
+
+ELEANOR O save us!
+
+
+IDONEA What can this mean?
+
+
+ELEANOR Alas, for my poor husband!--
+ We'll have a counting of our flocks to-morrow;
+ The wolf keeps festival these stormy nights:
+ Be calm, sweet Lady, they are wassailers
+ [The voices die away in the distance.]
+ Returning from their Feast--my heart beats so--
+ A noise at midnight does _so_ frighten me.
+
+
+IDONEA Hush! [Listening.]
+
+
+ELEANOR They are gone. On such a night, my husband,
+ Dragged from his bed, was cast into a dungeon,
+ Where, hid from me, he counted many years,
+ A criminal in no one's eyes but theirs--
+ Not even in theirs--whose brutal violence
+ So dealt with him.
+
+
+IDONEA I have a noble Friend
+ First among youths of knightly breeding, One
+ Who lives but to protect the weak or injured.
+ There again!
+ [Listening.]
+
+
+ELEANOR 'Tis my husband's foot. Good Eldred
+ Has a kind heart; but his imprisonment
+ Has made him fearful, and he'll never be
+ The man he was.
+
+
+IDONEA I will retire;--good night!
+ [She goes within.]
+
+
+[Enter ELDRED (hides a bundle)]
+
+
+ELDRED Not yet in bed, Eleanor!--there are stains in that frock
+ which must be washed out.
+
+
+ELEANOR What has befallen you?
+
+
+ELDRED I am belated, and you must know the cause--
+ (speaking low)
+ that is the blood of an unhappy Man.
+
+
+ELEANOR Oh! we are undone for ever.
+
+
+ELDRED 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR Where, where is he?
+
+
+ELDRED I have done him no harm, but----it will be forgiven me; it
+ would not have been so once.
+
+
+ELEANOR You have not _buried_ anything? You are no richer than
+ when you left me?
+
+
+ELDRED Be at peace; I am innocent.
+
+
+ELEANOR Then God be thanked--
+
+ [A short pause; she falls upon his neck.]
+
+
+ELDRED 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR (as if ready to run)
+ Where is he? You were not able to bring him _all_ the way
+ with you; let us return, I can help you.
+
+
+ [ELDRED shakes his head.]
+
+
+ELDRED 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR Oh that I had been by your side!
+
+
+ELDRED 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR But, for the stains of blood--
+
+
+ELDRED He must have fallen, I fancy, for his head was cut; but I
+ think his malady was cold and hunger.
+
+
+ELEANOR Oh, Eldred, I shall never be able to look up at this roof
+ in storm or fair but I shall tremble.
+
+
+ELDRED 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!
+
+
+ELEANOR But did he say nothing which might have set you at ease?
+
+
+ELDRED I thought he grasped my hand while he was muttering
+ something about his Child--his Daughter--
+ (starting as if he heard a noise).
+ What is that?
+
+
+ELEANOR Eldred, you are a father.
+
+
+ELDRED God knows what was in my heart, and will not curse my son
+ for my sake.
+
+
+ELEANOR But you prayed by him? you waited the hour of his release?
+
+
+ELDRED 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!
+
+
+ELEANOR 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.
+
+
+ELDRED Have you forgot your own troubles when I was in the
+ dungeon?
+
+
+ELEANOR And you left him alive?
+
+
+ELDRED Alive!--the damps of death were upon him--he could not
+ have survived an hour.
+
+
+ELEANOR In the cold, cold night.
+
+
+ELDRED (in a savage tone)
+ 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.
+
+
+ELEANOR Is there nothing to be done? cannot we go to the Convent?
+
+
+ELDRED Ay, and say at once that I murdered him!
+
+
+ELEANOR 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.
+
+
+ELDRED 'Tis all in vain.
+
+
+ELEANOR 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.
+
+
+ELDRED He will never open them more; even when he spoke to me, he
+ kept them firmly sealed as if he had been blind.
+
+
+IDONEA (rushing out)
+ It is, it is, my Father--
+
+
+ELDRED We are betrayed
+ (looking at IDONEA).
+
+
+ELEANOR His Daughter!--God have mercy!
+ (turning to IDONEA)
+
+
+IDONEA (sinking down)
+ Oh! lift me up and carry me to the place.
+ You are safe; the whole world shall not harm you.
+
+
+ELEANOR This Lady is his Daughter.
+
+
+ELDRED (moved)
+ I'll lead you to the spot.
+
+
+IDONEA (springing up)
+ Alive!--you heard him breathe? quick, quick--
+
+
+[Exeunt.]
+
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+SCENE--A wood on the edge of the Waste
+
+Enter OSWALD and a Forester.
+
+
+FORESTER He leaned upon the bridge that spans the glen,
+ And down into the bottom cast his eye,
+ That fastened there, as it would check the current.
+
+
+OSWALD He listened too; did you not say he listened?
+
+
+FORESTER As if there came such moaning from the flood
+ As is heard often after stormy nights.
+
+
+OSWALD But did he utter nothing?
+
+
+FORESTER See him there!
+
+
+[MARMADUKE appearing.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE Buzz, buzz, ye black and winged freebooters;
+ That is no substance which ye settle on!
+
+
+FORESTER His senses play him false; and see, his arms
+ Outspread, as if to save himself from falling!--
+ Some terrible phantom I believe is now
+ Passing before him, such as God will not
+ Permit to visit any but a man
+ Who has been guilty of some horrid crime.
+
+
+[MARMADUKE disappears.]
+
+
+OSWALD The game is up!--
+
+
+FORESTER If it be needful, Sir,
+ I will assist you to lay hands upon him.
+
+
+OSWALD No, no, my Friend, you may pursue your business--
+ 'Tis a poor wretch of an unsettled mind,
+ Who has a trick of straying from his keepers;
+ We must be gentle. Leave him to my care.
+ [Exit Forester.]
+ If his own eyes play false with him, these freaks
+ Of fancy shall be quickly tamed by mine;
+ The goal is reached. My Master shall become
+ A shadow of myself--made by myself.
+
+
+SCENE--The edge of the Moor.
+
+MARMADUKE and ELDRED enter from opposite sides.
+
+
+MARMADUKE (raising his eyes and perceiving ELDRED)
+ In any corner of this savage Waste,
+ Have you, good Peasant, seen a blind old Man?
+
+
+ELDRED I heard--
+
+
+MARMADUKE You heard him, where? when heard him?
+
+
+ELDRED As you know
+ The first hours of last night were rough with storm:
+ I had been out in search of a stray heifer;
+ Returning late, I heard a moaning sound;
+ Then, thinking that my fancy had deceived me,
+ I hurried on, when straight a second moan,
+ A human voice distinct, struck on my ear.
+ So guided, distant a few steps, I found
+ An aged Man, and such as you describe.
+
+
+MARMADUKE You heard!--he called you to him? Of all men
+ The best and kindest!--but where is he? guide me,
+ That I may see him.
+
+
+ELDRED On a ridge of rocks
+ A lonesome Chapel stands, deserted now:
+ The bell is left, which no one dares remove;
+ And, when the stormy wind blows o'er the peak,
+ It rings, as if a human hand were there
+ To pull the cord. I guess he must have heard it;
+ And it had led him towards the precipice,
+ To climb up to the spot whence the sound came;
+ But he had failed through weakness. From his hand
+ His staff had dropped, and close upon the brink
+ Of a small pool of water he was laid,
+ As if he had stooped to drink, and so remained
+ Without the strength to rise.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Well, well, he lives,
+ And all is safe: what said he?
+
+
+ELDRED But few words:
+ He only spake to me of a dear Daughter,
+ Who, so he feared, would never see him more;
+ And of a Stranger to him, One by whom
+ He had been sore misused; but he forgave
+ The wrong and the wrong-doer. You are troubled--
+ Perhaps you are his son?
+
+
+MARMADUKE The All-seeing knows,
+ I did not think he had a living Child.--
+ But whither did you carry him?
+
+
+ELDRED He was torn,
+ His head was bruised, and there was blood about him--
+
+
+MARMADUKE That was no work of mine.
+
+
+ELDRED Nor was it mine.
+
+
+MARMADUKE But had he strength to walk? I could have borne him
+ A thousand miles.
+
+
+ELDRED I am in poverty,
+ And know how busy are the tongues of men;
+ My heart was willing, Sir, but I am one
+ Whose good deeds will not stand by their own light;
+ And, though it smote me more than words can tell,
+ I left him.
+
+
+MARMADUKE I believe that there are phantoms,
+ That in the shape of man do cross our path
+ On evil instigation, to make sport
+ Of our distress--and thou art one of them!
+ But things substantial have so pressed on me--
+
+
+ELDRED My wife and children came into my mind.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Oh Monster! Monster! there are three of us,
+ And we shall howl together.
+ [After a pause and in a feeble voice.]
+ I am deserted
+ At my worst need, my crimes have in a net
+ (Pointing to ELDRED) Entangled this poor man.--
+ Where was it? where?
+ [Dragging him along.]
+
+
+ELDRED 'Tis needless; spare your violence. His Daughter--
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ay, in the word a thousand scorpions lodge:
+ This old man _had_ a Daughter.
+
+
+ELDRED To the spot
+ I hurried back with her.--Oh save me, Sir,
+ From such a journey!--there was a black tree,
+ A single tree; she thought it was her Father.--
+ Oh Sir, I would not see that hour again
+ For twenty lives. The daylight dawned, and now--
+ Nay; hear my tale, 'tis fit that you should hear it--
+ As we approached, a solitary crow
+ Rose from the spot;--the Daughter clapped her hands,
+ And then I heard a shriek so terrible
+ [MARMADUKE shrinks back.]
+ The startled bird quivered upon the wing.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Dead, dead!--
+
+
+ELDRED (after a pause)
+ A dismal matter, Sir, for me,
+ And seems the like for you; if 'tis your wish,
+ I'll lead you to his Daughter; but 'twere best
+ That she should be prepared; I'll go before.
+
+
+MARMADUKE There will be need of preparation.
+
+
+ [ELDRED goes off.]
+
+
+ELEANOR (enters)
+ Master!
+ Your limbs sink under you, shall I support you?
+
+
+MARMADUKE (taking her arm)
+ Woman, I've lent my body to the service
+ Which now thou tak'st upon thee. God forbid
+ That thou shouldst ever meet a like occasion
+ With such a purpose in thine heart as mine was.
+
+
+ELEANOR Oh, why have I to do with things like these?
+
+ [Exeunt.]
+
+
+
+SCENE changes to the door of ELDRED'S cottage--IDONEA seated--enter
+ELDRED.
+
+
+ELDRED Your Father, Lady, from a wilful hand
+ Has met unkindness; so indeed he told me,
+ And you remember such was my report:
+ From what has just befallen me I have cause
+ To fear the very worst.
+
+
+IDONEA My Father is dead;
+ Why dost thou come to me with words like these?
+
+
+ELDRED A wicked Man should answer for his crimes.
+
+
+IDONEA Thou seest me what I am.
+
+
+ELDRED It was most heinous,
+ And doth call out for vengeance.
+
+
+IDONEA Do not add,
+ I prith'ee, to the harm thou'st done already.
+
+
+ELDRED Hereafter you will thank me for this service.
+ Hard by, a Man I met, who, from plain proofs
+ Of interfering Heaven, I have no doubt,
+ Laid hands upon your Father. Fit it were
+ You should prepare to meet him.
+
+
+IDONEA I have nothing
+ To do with others; help me to my Father--
+ [She turns and sees MARMADUKE leaning on ELEANOR--throws herself
+ upon his neck, and after some time,]
+ In joy I met thee, but a few hours past;
+ And thus we meet again; one human stay
+ Is left me still in thee. Nay, shake not so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE In such a wilderness--to see no thing,
+ No, not the pitying moon!
+
+
+IDONEA And perish so.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Without a dog to moan for him.
+
+
+IDONEA Think not of it,
+ But enter there and see him how he sleeps,
+ Tranquil as he had died in his own bed.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Tranquil--why not?
+
+
+IDONEA Oh, peace!
+
+
+MARMADUKE He is at peace;
+ His body is at rest: there was a plot,
+ A hideous plot, against the soul of man:
+ It took effect--and yet I baffled it,
+ In _some_ degree.
+
+
+IDONEA Between us stood, I thought,
+ A cup of consolation, filled from Heaven
+ For both our needs; must I, and in thy presence,
+ Alone partake of it?--Beloved Marmaduke!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Give me a reason why the wisest thing
+ That the earth owns shall never choose to die,
+ But some one must be near to count his groans.
+ The wounded deer retires to solitude,
+ And dies in solitude: all things but man,
+ All die in solitude.
+ [Moving towards the cottage door.]
+ Mysterious God,
+ If she had never lived I had not done it!--
+
+
+IDONEA Alas! the thought of such a cruel death
+ Has overwhelmed him.--I must follow.
+
+
+ELDRED Lady!
+ You will do well; (she goes) unjust suspicion may
+ Cleave to this Stranger: if, upon his entering,
+ The dead Man heave a groan, or from his side
+ Uplift his hand--that would be evidence.
+
+
+ELEANOR Shame! Eldred, shame!
+
+
+MARMADUKE (both returning)
+ The dead have but one face.
+ (To himself.)
+ And such a Man--so meek and unoffending--
+ Helpless and harmless as a babe: a Man,
+ By obvious signal to the world's protection,
+ Solemnly dedicated--to decoy him!--
+
+
+IDONEA Oh, had you seen him living!--
+
+
+MARMADUKE I (so filled
+ With horror is this world) am unto thee
+ The thing most precious, that it now contains:
+ Therefore through me alone must be revealed
+ By whom thy Parent was destroyed, Idonea!
+ I have the proofs!--
+
+
+IDONEA O miserable Father!
+ Thou didst command me to bless all mankind;
+ Nor to this moment, have I ever wished
+ Evil to any living thing; but hear me,
+ Hear me, ye Heavens!--
+ (kneeling) --may vengeance haunt the fiend
+ For this most cruel murder: let him live
+ And move in terror of the elements;
+ The thunder send him on his knees to prayer
+ In the open streets, and let him think he sees,
+ If e'er he entereth the house of God,
+ The roof, self-moved, unsettling o'er his head;
+ And let him, when he would lie down at night,
+ Point to his wife the blood-drops on his pillow!
+
+
+MARMADUKE My voice was silent, but my heart hath joined thee.
+
+
+IDONEA (leaning on MARMADUKE)
+ Left to the mercy of that savage Man!
+ How could he call upon his Child!--O Friend!
+ [Turns to MARMADUKE.]
+ My faithful true and only Comforter.
+
+
+MARMADUKE Ay, come to me and weep. (He kisses her.)
+ (To ELDRED.) Yes, Varlet, look,
+ The devils at such sights do clap their hands.
+ [ELDRED retires alarmed.]
+
+
+IDONEA Thy vest is torn, thy cheek is deadly pale;
+ Hast thou pursued the monster?
+
+
+MARMADUKE I have found him.--
+ Oh! would that thou hadst perished in the flames!
+
+
+IDONEA Here art thou, then can I be desolate?--
+
+
+MARMADUKE There was a time, when this protecting hand
+ Availed against the mighty; never more
+ Shall blessings wait upon a deed of mine.
+
+
+IDONEA Wild words for me to hear, for me, an orphan,
+ Committed to thy guardianship by Heaven;
+ And, if thou hast forgiven me, let me hope,
+ In this deep sorrow, trust, that I am thine
+ For closer care;--here, is no malady.
+ [Taking his arm.]
+
+
+MARMADUKE There, _is_ a malady--
+ (Striking his heart and forehead.) And here, and here,
+ A mortal malady.--I am accurst:
+ All nature curses me, and in my heart
+ _Thy_ curse is fixed; the truth must be laid bare.
+ It must be told, and borne. I am the man,
+ (Abused, betrayed, but how it matters not)
+ Presumptuous above all that ever breathed,
+ Who, casting as I thought a guilty Person
+ Upon Heaven's righteous judgment, did become
+ An instrument of Fiends. Through me, through me,
+ Thy Father perished.
+
+
+IDONEA Perished--by what mischance?
+
+
+MARMADUKE Beloved!--if I dared, so would I call thee--
+ Conflict must cease, and, in thy frozen heart,
+ The extremes of suffering meet in absolute peace.
+ [He gives her a letter.]
+
+
+IDONEA (reads)
+ "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.
+ "HERBERT.
+ "MARMADUKE."
+ The writing Oswald's; the signature my Father's:
+ (Looks steadily at the paper.)
+ And here is yours,--or do my eyes deceive me?
+ You have then seen my Father?
+
+
+MARMADUKE He has leaned
+ Upon this arm.
+
+
+IDONEA You led him towards the Convent?
+
+
+MARMADUKE That Convent was Stone-Arthur Castle. Thither
+ We were his guides. I on that night resolved
+ That he should wait thy coming till the day
+ Of resurrection.
+
+
+IDONEA Miserable Woman,
+ Too quickly moved, too easily giving way,
+ I put denial on thy suit, and hence,
+ With the disastrous issue of last night,
+ Thy perturbation, and these frantic words.
+ Be calm, I pray thee!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Oswald--
+
+
+IDONEA Name him not.
+
+
+[Enter Female Beggar.]
+
+
+BEGGAR And he is dead!--that Moor--how shall I cross it?
+ By night, by day, never shall I be able
+ To travel half a mile alone.--Good Lady!
+ Forgive me!--Saints forgive me. Had I thought
+ It would have come to this!--
+
+
+IDONEA What brings you hither? speak!
+
+
+BEGGAR (pointing to MARMADUKE)
+ This innocent Gentleman. Sweet heavens! I told him
+ Such tales of your dead Father!--God is my judge,
+ I thought there was no harm: but that bad Man,
+ He bribed me with his gold, and looked so fierce.
+ Mercy! I said I know not what--oh pity me--
+ I said, sweet Lady, you were not his Daughter--
+ Pity me, I am haunted;--thrice this day
+ My conscience made me wish to be struck blind;
+ And then I would have prayed, and had no voice.
+
+
+IDONEA (to MARMADUKE)
+ Was it my Father?--no, no, no, for he
+ Was meek and patient, feeble, old and blind,
+ Helpless, and loved me dearer than his life
+ --But hear me. For _one_ question, I have a heart
+ That will sustain me. Did you murder him?
+
+
+MARMADUKE No, not by stroke of arm. But learn the process:
+ Proof after proof was pressed upon me; guilt
+ Made evident, as seemed, by blacker guilt,
+ Whose impious folds enwrapped even thee; and truth
+ And innocence, embodied in his looks,
+ His words and tones and gestures, did but serve
+ With me to aggravate his crimes, and heaped
+ Ruin upon the cause for which they pleaded.
+ Then pity crossed the path of my resolve:
+ Confounded, I looked up to Heaven, and cast,
+ Idonea! thy blind Father, on the Ordeal
+ Of the bleak Waste--left him--and so he died!--
+
+[IDONEA sinks senseless; Beggar, ELEANOR, etc., crowd round, and bear
+her off.]
+
+ Why may we speak these things, and do no more;
+ Why should a thrust of the arm have such a power,
+ And words that tell these things be heard in vain?
+ _She_ is not dead. Why!--if I loved this Woman,
+ I would take care she never woke again;
+ But she WILL wake, and she will weep for me,
+ And say, no blame was mine--and so, poor fool,
+ Will waste her curses on another name.
+
+
+[He walks about distractedly.]
+
+[Enter OSWALD.]
+
+
+OSWALD (to himself)
+ Strong to o'erturn, strong also to build up.
+ [To MARMADUKE.]
+ The starts and sallies of our last encounter
+ Were natural enough; but that, I trust,
+ Is all gone by. You have cast off the chains
+ That fettered your nobility of mind--
+ Delivered heart and head!
+ Let us to Palestine;
+ This is a paltry field for enterprise.
+
+MARMADUKE Ay, what shall we encounter next? This issue--
+ 'Twas nothing more than darkness deepening darkness,
+ And weakness crowned with the impotence of death!--
+ Your pupil is, you see, an apt proficient.
+ (ironically)
+ Start not!--Here is another face hard by;
+ Come, let us take a peep at both together,
+ And, with a voice at which the dead will quake,
+ Resound the praise of your morality--
+ Of this too much.
+ [Drawing OSWALD towards the Cottage--stops short at the door.]
+ Men are there, millions, Oswald,
+ Who with bare hands would have plucked out thy heart
+ And flung it to the dogs: but I am raised
+ Above, or sunk below, all further sense
+ Of provocation. Leave me, with the weight
+ Of that old Man's forgiveness on thy heart,
+ Pressing as heavily as it doth on mine.
+ Coward I have been; know, there lies not now
+ Within the compass of a mortal thought,
+ A deed that I would shrink from;--but to endure,
+ That is my destiny. May it be thine:
+ Thy office, thy ambition, be henceforth
+ To feed remorse, to welcome every sting
+ Of penitential anguish, yea with tears.
+ When seas and continents shall lie between us--
+ The wider space the better--we may find
+ In such a course fit links of sympathy,
+ An incommunicable rivalship
+ Maintained, for peaceful ends beyond our view.
+ [Confused voices--several of the Band enter--rush upon OSWALD and
+ seize him.]
+
+
+ONE OF THEM I would have dogged him to the jaws of hell--
+
+
+OSWALD Ha! is it so!--That vagrant Hag!--this comes
+ Of having left a thing like her alive! [Aside.]
+
+
+SEVERAL VOICES
+ Despatch him!
+
+
+OSWALD If I pass beneath a rock
+ And shout, and, with the echo of my voice,
+ Bring down a heap of rubbish, and it crush me,
+ I die without dishonour. Famished, starved,
+ A Fool and Coward blended to my wish!
+ [Smiles scornfully and exultingly at MARMADUKE.]
+
+
+WALLACE 'Tis done! (Stabs him.)
+
+
+ANOTHER OF THE BAND
+ The ruthless traitor!
+
+
+MARMADUKE A rash deed!--
+ With that reproof I do resign a station
+ Of which I have been proud.
+
+
+
+WILFRED (approaching MARMADUKE)
+ O my poor Master!
+
+
+MARMADUKE Discerning Monitor, my faithful Wilfred,
+ Why art thou here?
+ [Turning to WALLACE.]
+ Wallace, upon these Borders,
+ Many there be whose eyes will not want cause
+ To weep that I am gone. Brothers in arms!
+ Raise on that dreary Waste a monument
+ That may record my story: nor let words--
+ Few must they be, and delicate in their touch
+ As light itself--be there withheld from Her
+ Who, through most wicked arts, was made an orphan
+ By One who would have died a thousand times,
+ To shield her from a moment's harm. To you,
+ Wallace and Wilfred, I commend the Lady,
+ By lowly nature reared, as if to make her
+ In all things worthier of that noble birth,
+ Whose long-suspended rights are now on the eve
+ Of restoration: with your tenderest care
+ Watch over her, I pray--sustain her--
+
+
+SEVERAL OF THE BAND (eagerly)
+ Captain!
+
+
+MARMADUKE No more of that; in silence hear my doom:
+ A hermitage has furnished fit relief
+ To some offenders; other penitents,
+ Less patient in their wretchedness, have fallen,
+ Like the old Roman, on their own sword's point.
+ They had their choice: a wanderer _must I_ go,
+ The Spectre of that innocent Man, my guide.
+ No human ear shall ever hear me speak;
+ No human dwelling ever give me food,
+ Or sleep, or rest: but, over waste and wild,
+ In search of nothing, that this earth can give,
+ But expiation, will I wander on--
+ A Man by pain and thought compelled to live,
+ Yet loathing life--till anger is appeased
+ In Heaven, and Mercy gives me leave to die.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+In June 1797 Coleridge wrote to his friend Cottle:
+
+ "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 'Robbers' of Schiller, and often in Shakspeare; but in W.
+ there are no inequalities."
+
+
+On August 6, 1800, Charles Lamb wrote to Coleridge:
+
+ "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 _you_, 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."--Ed.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+ [Variant 1:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... female ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1845.
+
+ Ha! ... 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1849.
+
+ With whom you parted? 1842.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... o'er ... 1842.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: He doubtless refers to the lines (Act iii. l. 405) "Action
+is transitory--a step, a blow," etc., which followed the Dedication of
+'The White Doe of Rylstone' in the edition of 1836.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Note prefixed to the edition of 1842.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: Note appended to the edition of 1842.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN
+
+
+Composed 1797.--Published 1800.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+Placed by Wordsworth among his "Poems of the Imagination."--Ed.
+
+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, 'The Borderers', brought on the stage. The
+title of the poem from 1800 to 1805 was 'Poor Susan'.--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
+ Hangs a Thrush [1] that sings loud, it has sung for three years:
+ Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard
+ In the silence of morning the song of the Bird.
+
+ 'Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees 5
+ A mountain ascending, a vision of trees;
+ Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide,
+ And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
+
+ Green pastures she views [A] in the midst of the dale,
+ Down which she so often has tripped with her pail; 10
+ And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove's,
+ The one only [2] dwelling on earth that she loves.
+
+ She looks, and her heart is in heaven: but they fade,
+ The mist and the river, the hill and the shade:
+ The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise, 15
+ And the colours have all passed away from her eyes! [3]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1820.
+
+ There's a Thrush ... 1800.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1802.
+
+ The only one ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 3: The following stanza, in the edition of 1800, was omitted in
+subsequent ones:
+
+ Poor Outcast! return--to receive thee once more
+ The house of thy Father will open its door,
+ And thou once again, in thy plain russet gown,
+ May'st hear the thrush sing from a tree of its own. [i]]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: Wordsworth originally wrote "sees." S.T.C. suggested
+"views."--Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE ON VARIANT 3
+
+[Sub-Footnote i:
+
+ "Susan stood for the representative of poor '_Rus in urbe_.' 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."
+
+Charles Lamb to Wordsworth. See 'The Letters of Charles Lamb', edited by
+Alfred Ainger, vol. i., p. 287.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+1798
+
+A NIGHT PIECE
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1815.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+
+Classed by Wordsworth among his "Poems of the Imagination."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ --The sky is overcast
+ With a continuous cloud of texture close,
+ Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon,
+ Which through that veil is indistinctly seen,
+ A dull, contracted circle, yielding light 5
+ So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls,
+ Chequering the ground--from rock, plant, tree, or tower.
+ At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam
+ Startles the pensive traveller while [1] he treads
+ His lonesome path, with unobserving eye 10
+ Bent earthwards; he looks up--the clouds are split
+ Asunder,--and above his head he sees
+ The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens.
+ There, in a black-blue vault she sails along,
+ Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small 15
+ And sharp, and bright, [A] along the dark abyss
+ Drive as she drives: how fast they wheel away,
+ Yet vanish not!--the wind is in the tree,
+ But they are silent;--still they roll along
+ Immeasurably distant; and the vault, 20
+ Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds,
+ Still deepens its unfathomable depth.
+ At length the Vision closes; and the mind,
+ Not undisturbed by the delight it feels,
+ Which slowly settles into peaceful calm, 25
+ Is left to muse upon the solemn scene.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANT ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827
+
+ ... as ... 1815.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote 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:
+
+ "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."
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+WE ARE SEVEN
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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
+ 'Guilt and Sorrow', 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.
+
+ 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 'New Monthly Magazine', 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 'The Ancient Mariner', 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
+ 'Voyages', 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--
+
+ And listen'd like a three years' child;
+ The Mariner had his will.
+
+ 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. 'The Ancient Mariner' 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
+ 'The Idiot Boy', 'Her eyes are wild', etc., 'We are Seven', 'The
+ Thorn', and some others. To return to 'We are Seven', 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;
+
+ A little child, dear brother Jem,
+
+ 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 'We are Seven'.' 'Nay,'
+ said I, 'that shall take its chance, however'; and he left me in
+ despair. I have only to add, that in the spring [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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+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. 'We are Seven' was placed by Wordsworth among his
+"Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ --A simple Child, [1]
+ That lightly draws its breath,
+ And feels its life in every limb,
+ What should it know of death? [B]
+
+ I met a little cottage Girl: 5
+ She was eight years old, she said;
+ Her hair was thick with many a curl
+ That clustered round her head.
+
+ She had a rustic, woodland air,
+ And she was wildly clad: 10
+ Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
+ --Her beauty made me glad.
+
+ "Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
+ How many may you be?"
+ "How many? Seven in all," she said, 15
+ And wondering looked at me.
+
+ "And where are they? I pray you tell."
+ She answered, "Seven are we;
+ And two of us at Conway dwell,
+ And two are gone to sea. 20
+
+ "Two of us in the church-yard lie,
+ My sister and my brother;
+ And, in the church-yard cottage, I
+ Dwell near them with my mother."
+
+ "You say that two at Conway dwell, 25
+ And two are gone to sea,
+ Yet ye [2] are seven! I pray you tell,
+ Sweet Maid, how this may be."
+
+ Then did the little Maid reply,
+ "Seven boys and girls are we; 30
+ Two of us in the church-yard lie,
+ Beneath the church-yard tree."
+
+ "You run about, my little Maid,
+ Your limbs they are alive;
+ If two are in the church-yard laid, 35
+ Then ye are only five."
+
+ "Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
+ The little Maid replied,
+ "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
+ And they are side by side. 40
+
+ "My stockings there I often knit,
+ My kerchief there I hem;
+ And there upon the ground I sit,
+ And sing a song to them. [3]
+
+ "And often after sun-set, Sir, 45
+ When it is light and fair,
+ I take my little porringer,
+ And eat my supper there.
+
+ "The first that died was sister Jane; [4]
+ In bed she moaning lay, 50
+ Till God released her of her pain;
+ And then she went away.
+
+ "So in the church-yard she was laid;
+ And, when the grass was dry, [5]
+ Together round her grave we played, 55
+ My brother John and I.
+
+ "And when the ground was white with snow,
+ And I could run and slide,
+ My brother John was forced to go,
+ And he lies by her side." 60
+
+ "How many are you, then," said I,
+ "If they two are in heaven?"
+ Quick was the little Maid's reply, [6]
+ "O Master! we are seven."
+
+ "But they are dead; those two are dead! 65
+ Their spirits are in heaven!"
+ 'Twas throwing words away; for still
+ The little Maid would have her will,
+ And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1815.
+
+ A simple child, dear brother Jim, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... you ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ I sit and sing to them. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... little Jane; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1827.
+
+ And all the summer dry, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1836.
+
+ The little Maiden did reply, 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Footnote A: It was in June, after leaving Alfoxden finally.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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 'We are Seven, or Death', but afterwards restored the original
+title.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ 'Retine vim istam, falsa enim dicam, si coges.'
+
+ EUSEBIUS. [A]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ [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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+In the editions 1798 to 1843 the title of this poem is 'Anecdote for
+Fathers, showing how the practice [1] of lying may be taught'. It was
+placed among the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ I have a boy of five years old;
+ His face is fair and fresh to see;
+ His limbs are cast in beauty's mould,
+ And dearly he loves me.
+
+ One morn we strolled on our dry walk, 5
+ Our quiet home [2] all full in view,
+ And held such intermitted talk
+ As we are wont to do.
+
+ My thoughts on former pleasures ran;
+ I thought of Kilve's delightful shore, 10
+ Our [3] pleasant home when spring began,
+ A long, long year before.
+
+ A day it was when I could bear
+ Some fond regrets to entertain; [4]
+ With so much happiness to spare, 15
+ I could not feel a pain.
+
+ The green earth echoed to the feet
+ Of lambs that bounded through the glade,
+ From shade to sunshine, and as fleet
+ From sunshine back to shade.[5] 20
+
+ Birds warbled round me--and each trace
+ Of inward sadness had its charm;
+ Kilve, thought I, was a favoured place,[6]
+ And so is Liswyn farm.
+
+ My boy beside me tripped, so slim 25
+ And graceful in his rustic dress!
+ And, as we talked, I questioned him, [7]
+ In very idleness.
+
+ "Now tell me, had you rather be,"
+ I said, and took him by the arm, 30
+ "On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea,
+ Or here at Liswyn farm?" [8]
+
+ In careless mood he looked at me,
+ While still I held him by the arm,
+ And said, "At Kilve I'd rather be 35
+ Than here at Liswyn farm."
+
+ "Now, little Edward, say why so:
+ My little Edward, tell me why."--
+ "I cannot tell, I do not know."--
+ "Why, this is strange," said I; 40
+
+ "For, here are woods, hills smooth and warm: [9]
+ There surely must some reason be
+ Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm
+ For Kilve by the green sea."
+
+ At this, my boy hung down his head, 45
+ He blushed with shame, nor made reply; [10]
+ And three times to the child I said, [11]
+ "Why, Edward, tell me why?"
+
+ His head he raised--there was in sight,
+ It caught his eye, he saw it plain-- 50
+ Upon the house-top, glittering bright,
+ A broad and gilded vane.
+
+ Then did the boy his tongue unlock,
+ And eased his mind with this reply: [12]
+ "At Kilve there was no weather-cock; 55
+ And that's the reason why."
+
+ O dearest, dearest boy! my heart
+ For better lore would seldom yearn,
+ Could I but teach the hundredth part
+ Of what from thee I learn. [B] 60
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1800.
+
+ the art ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1802.
+
+ ... house ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1802.
+
+ My ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1827.
+
+ To think, and think, and think again; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1827.
+
+ The young lambs ran a pretty race;
+ The morning sun shone bright and warm;
+ "Kilve," said I, "was a pleasant place,
+ And so is Liswyn farm." 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1836.
+
+ ...--every trace
+ Of inward sadness had its charm;
+ "Kilve," said I, ... 1827.
+
+This verse was introduced in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 7: 1836.
+
+ My boy was by my side, so slim
+ And graceful in his rustic dress!
+ And oftentimes I talked to him, 1798.
+
+This was stanza v. from 1798 to 1820.
+
+ And, as we talked, I questioned him, 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1827.
+
+ "My little boy, which like you more,"
+ I said and took him by the arm--
+ "Our home by Kilve's delightful shore,
+ Or here at Liswyn farm?"
+
+ "And tell me, had you rather be,"
+ I said and held him by the arm,
+ "At Kilve's smooth shore by the green sea,
+ Or here at Liswyn farm?" 1798.
+
+These two stanzas were compressed into one in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1836.
+
+ For, here are woods and green-hills warm; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1800.
+
+ At this, my boy, so fair and slim,
+ Hung down his head, nor made reply; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1845.
+
+ And five times did I say to him, 1798.
+
+ And five times to the child I said, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1836.
+
+ And thus to me he made reply; 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: See Appendix IV.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Mr. Ernest H. Coleridge writes to me of this poem:
+
+ "The Fenwick note is most puzzling.
+
+ 1. If Coleridge went to visit Thelwall, with Wordsworth and Dorothy in
+ July 1798, this is the only record; but I suppose that he did.
+
+ 2. 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.
+
+ 3. 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."
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+"A WHIRL-BLAST FROM BEHIND THE HILL"
+
+
+Composed March 18, 1798.--Published 1800.
+
+
+ [Observed in the holly-grove at Alfoxden, where these verses were
+ written in the spring of 1799. [A] I had the pleasure of again seeing,
+ with dear friends, this grove in unimpaired beauty forty-one years
+ after. [B]--I. F.]
+
+Classed among the "Poems of the Fancy."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ A whirl-blast from behind the hill
+ Rushed o'er the wood with startling sound;
+ Then--all at once the air was still,
+ And showers of hailstones pattered round.
+ Where leafless oaks towered high above, 5
+ I sat within an undergrove
+ Of tallest hollies, tall and green;
+ A fairer bower was never seen.
+ From year to year the spacious floor
+ With withered leaves is covered o'er, 10
+ [1] And all the year the bower is green. [C]
+ But see! where'er the hailstones drop
+ The withered leaves all skip and hop;
+ There's not a breeze--no breath of air--
+ Yet here, and there, and every where 15
+ Along the floor, beneath the shade
+ By those embowering hollies made,
+ The leaves in myriads jump and spring,
+ As if with pipes and music rare
+ Some Robin Good-fellow were there, 20
+ And all those leaves, in festive glee,
+ Were dancing to the minstrelsy. [2] [3] [D]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1820.
+
+ You could not lay a hair between:
+
+Inserted in the editions 1800-1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ And all those leaves, that jump and spring,
+ Were each a joyous, living thing. 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 3: The following additional lines occur in the editions 1800 to
+1805:
+
+ Oh! grant me Heaven a heart at ease
+ That I may never cease to find,
+ Even in appearances like these
+ Enough to nourish and to stir my mind!]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: Compare a letter from Wordsworth to Sir George Beaumont,
+written in November 1806, and one to Lady Beaumont in December
+1806.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote D:
+
+ "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"
+
+(Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal).--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE THORN
+
+
+Composed March 19, 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+In the editions of 1800-1805, Wordsworth added the following note to
+this poem:
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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.
+
+ "Upon this occasion I will request permission to add a few words
+ closely connected with 'The Thorn' 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 'things', 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.
+
+ Awake, awake, Deborah! awake, awake, utter a song: Arise Barak, and
+ lead captivity captive, thou Son of Abinoam.
+
+ 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.
+
+ Why is his Chariot so long in coming? why tarry the Wheels of his
+ Chariot?
+
+ (Judges, chap. v. verses 12th, 27th, and part of 28th.)
+
+ See also the whole of that tumultuous and wonderful Poem."
+
+ "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."
+
+W. W. Advertisement to "Lyrical Ballads," 1798.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ [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.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+'The Thorn' was always placed among the "Poems of the Imagination."--Ed.
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+I "There is a Thorn--it looks so old,
+ In truth, you'd find it hard to say
+ How it could ever have been young,
+ It looks so old and grey.
+ Not higher than a two years' child 5
+ It stands erect, this aged Thorn;
+ No leaves it has, no prickly [1] points;
+ It is a mass of knotted joints,
+ A wretched thing forlorn.
+ It stands erect, and like a stone 10
+ With lichens is it overgrown. [2]
+
+
+II "Like rock or stone, it is o'ergrown,
+ With lichens to the very top,
+ And hung with heavy tufts of moss,
+ A melancholy crop: 15
+ Up from the earth these mosses creep,
+ And this poor Thorn they clasp it round
+ So close, you'd say that they are [3] bent
+ With plain and manifest intent
+ To drag it to the ground; 20
+ And all have [4] joined in one endeavour
+ To bury this poor Thorn for ever.
+
+
+III "High on a mountain's highest ridge,
+ Where oft the stormy winter gale
+ Cuts like a scythe, while through the clouds 25
+ It sweeps from vale to vale;
+ Not five yards from the mountain path,
+ This Thorn you on your left espy;
+ And to the left, three yards beyond,
+ You see a little muddy pond 30
+ Of water--never dry
+ Though but of compass small, and bare
+ To thirsty suns and parching air. [5] [A]
+
+
+IV "And, close beside this aged Thorn,
+ There is a fresh and lovely sight, 35
+ A beauteous heap, a hill of moss,
+ Just half a foot in height.
+ All lovely colours there you see,
+ All colours that were ever seen;
+ And mossy network too is there, 40
+ As if by hand of lady fair
+ The work had woven been;
+ And cups, the darlings of the eye,
+ So deep is their vermilion dye.
+
+
+V "Ah me! what lovely tints are there 45
+ Of olive green and scarlet bright,
+ In spikes, in branches, and in stars,
+ Green, red, and pearly white!
+ This heap of earth o'ergrown with moss,
+ Which close beside the Thorn you see, 50
+ So fresh in all its beauteous dyes,
+ Is like an infant's grave in size,
+ As like as like can be:
+ But never, never any where,
+ An infant's grave was half so fair. 55
+
+
+VI "Now would you see this aged Thorn,
+ This pond, and beauteous hill of moss,
+ You must take care and choose your time
+ The mountain when to cross.
+ For oft there sits between the heap 60
+ So like [6] an infant's grave in size,
+ And that same pond of which I spoke,
+ A Woman in a scarlet cloak,
+ And to herself she cries,
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery! 65
+ Oh woe is me! oh misery!'
+
+
+VII "At all times of the day and night
+ This wretched Woman thither goes;
+ And she is known to every star,
+ And every wind that blows; 70
+ And there, beside the Thorn, she sits
+ When the blue daylight's in the skies,
+ And when the whirlwind's on the hill,
+ Or frosty air is keen and still
+ And to herself she cries, 75
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery!
+ Oh woe is me! oh misery!'"
+
+
+VIII "Now wherefore, thus, by day and night,
+ In rain, in tempest, and in snow,
+ Thus to the dreary mountain-top 80
+ Does this poor Woman go?
+ And why sits she beside the Thorn
+ When the blue daylight's in the sky,
+ Or when the whirlwind's on the hill,
+ Or frosty air is keen and still, 85
+ And wherefore does she cry?--
+ O wherefore? wherefore? tell me why
+ Does she repeat that doleful cry?"
+
+
+IX "I cannot tell; I wish I could;
+ For the true reason no one knows: 90
+ But would you [7] gladly view the spot,
+ The spot to which she goes;
+ The hillock like [8] an infant's grave,
+ The pond--and Thorn, so old and grey;
+ Pass by her door--'tis seldom shut-- 95
+ And, if you see her in her hut--
+ Then to the spot away!
+ I never heard of such as dare
+ Approach the spot when she is there."
+
+
+X "But wherefore to the mountain-top 100
+ Can this unhappy Woman go,
+ Whatever star is in the skies,
+ Whatever wind may blow?" [9]
+ "Full twenty years are past and gone [10]
+ Since she (her name is Martha Ray) 105
+ Gave with a maiden's true good-will
+ Her company to Stephen Hill;
+ And she was blithe and gay,
+ While friends and kindred all approved
+ Of him whom tenderly she loved. [11] 110
+
+
+XI "And they had fixed the wedding day,
+ The morning that must wed them both;
+ But Stephen to another Maid
+ Had sworn another oath;
+ And, with this other Maid, to church 115
+ Unthinking Stephen went--
+ Poor Martha! on that woeful day
+ A pang of pitiless dismay
+ Into her soul was sent;
+ A fire was kindled in her breast, 121
+ Which might not burn itself to rest. [12]
+
+
+XII "They say, full six months after this,
+ While yet the summer leaves were green,
+ She to the mountain-top would go, 125
+ And there was often seen.
+ What could she seek?--or wish to hide?
+ Her state to any eye was plain; [13]
+ She was with child, and she was mad;
+ Yet often was she [14] sober sad 130
+ From her exceeding pain.
+ O guilty Father--would that death
+ Had saved him from that breach of faith! [15]
+
+
+XIII "Sad case for such a brain to hold
+ Communion with a stirring child! 135
+ Sad case, as you may think, for one
+ Who had a brain so wild!
+ Last Christmas-eve we talked of this,
+ And grey-haired Wilfred of the glen
+ Held that the unborn infant wrought [16] 140
+ About its mother's heart, and brought
+ Her senses back again:
+ And, when at last her time drew near,
+ Her looks were calm, her senses clear.
+
+
+XIV "More know I not, I wish I did, 145
+ And it should all be told to you; [17]
+ For what became of this poor child
+ No mortal ever knew; [18]
+ Nay--if a child to her was born
+ No earthly tongue could ever tell; [19] 150
+ And if 'twas born alive or dead,
+ Far less could this with proof be said; [20]
+ But some remember well,
+ That Martha Ray about this time
+ Would up the mountain often climb. 155
+
+
+XV "And all that winter, when at night
+ The wind blew from the mountain-peak,
+ 'Twas worth your while, though in the dark,
+ The churchyard path to seek:
+ For many a time and oft were heard 160
+ Cries coming from the mountain head:
+ Some plainly living voices were;
+ And others, I've heard many swear,
+ Were voices of the dead:
+ I cannot think, whate'er they say, 165
+ They had to do with Martha Ray.
+
+
+XVI "But that she goes to this old Thorn,
+ The Thorn which I described [21] to you,
+ And there sits in a scarlet cloak,
+ I will be sworn is true. 170
+ For one day with my telescope,
+ To view the ocean wide and bright,
+ When to this country first I came,
+ Ere I had heard of Martha's name,
+ I climbed the mountain's height:-- 175
+ A storm came on, and I could see
+ No object higher than my knee.
+
+
+XVII "'Twas mist and rain, and storm and rain:
+ No screen, no fence could I discover;
+ And then the wind! in sooth, [22] it was 180
+ A wind full ten times over.
+ I looked around, I thought I saw
+ A jutting crag,--and off I ran,
+ Head-foremost, through the driving rain,
+ The shelter of the crag to gain; 185
+ And, as I am a man,
+ Instead of jutting crag, I found
+ A Woman seated on the ground.
+
+
+XVIII "I did not speak--I saw her face;
+ Her face!--it was [23] enough for me: 190
+ I turned about and heard her cry,
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery!'
+ And there she sits, until the moon
+ Through half the clear blue sky will go;
+ And, when the little breezes make 195
+ The waters of the pond to shake,
+ As all the country know,
+ She shudders, and you hear her cry,
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery!'"
+
+
+XIX "But what's the Thorn? and what the pond? 200
+ And what the hill of moss to her?
+ And what the creeping breeze that comes [24]
+ The little pond to stir?"
+ "I cannot tell; but some will say
+ She hanged her baby on the tree; 205
+ Some say she drowned it in the pond,
+ Which is a little step beyond:
+ But all and each agree,
+ The little Babe was buried there,
+ Beneath that hill of moss so fair. 210
+
+
+XX "I've heard, the moss is spotted red [25]
+ With drops of that poor infant's blood;
+ But kill a new-born infant thus,
+ I do not think she could!
+ Some say, if to the pond you go, 215
+ And fix on it a steady view,
+ The shadow of a babe you trace,
+ A baby and a baby's face,
+ And that it looks at you;
+ Whene'er you look on it, 'tis plain 220
+ The baby looks at you again.
+
+
+XXI "And some had sworn an oath that she
+ Should be to public justice brought;
+ And for the little infant's bones
+ With spades they would have sought. 225
+ But instantly the hill of moss [26]
+ Before their eyes began to stir!
+ And, for full fifty yards around,
+ The grass--it shook upon the ground!
+ Yet [27] all do still aver 230
+ The little Babe lies [28] buried there,
+ Beneath that hill of moss so fair.
+
+
+XXII "I cannot tell how this may be
+ But plain it is the Thorn is bound
+ With heavy tufts of moss that strive 235
+ To drag it to the ground;
+ And this I know, full many a time,
+ When she was on the mountain high,
+ By day, and in the silent night,
+ When all the stars shone clear and bright, 240
+ That I have heard her cry,
+ 'Oh misery! oh misery!
+ Oh woe is me! oh misery!'"
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+Compare 'The Heart of Midlothian' (vol. iii. chap. v. edition of 1818):
+
+ "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.
+
+ "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."
+
+ 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.
+
+ 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.
+
+ "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."
+
+ "But what is the matter with you?" said Jeanie. "Why do you weep so
+ bitterly?"
+
+ "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."
+
+Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... thorny ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... it is overgrown. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... were ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... had ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1820.
+
+ I've measured it from side to side:
+ 'Tis three feet long [i] and two feet wide. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+
+1827.
+
+ That's like ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1827.
+
+ But if you'd ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1827.
+
+ The heap that's like ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 9: In the editions 1798 to 1815.
+
+ Nay rack your brain--'tis all in vain,
+ I'll tell you every thing I know;
+ But to the thorn, and to the pond
+ Which is a little step beyond,
+ I wish that you would go:
+ Perhaps when you are at the place
+ You something of her tale may trace.
+
+
+ XI I'll give you the best help I can:
+ Before you up the mountain go,
+ Up to the dreary mountain-top,
+ I'll tell you all I know.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1845.
+
+ 'Tis now some two and twenty years, 1798.
+
+ 'Tis known, that twenty years are passed 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1820.
+
+ And she was happy, happy still
+ Whene'er she thought of Stephen Hill. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... on that woful day
+ A cruel, cruel fire, they say,
+ Into her bones was sent:
+ It dried her body like a cinder,
+ And almost turn'd her brain to tinder. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1836.
+
+ 'Tis said, a child was in her womb,
+ As now to any eye was plain; 1798.
+
+ 'Tis said, her lamentable state
+ Even to a careless eye was plain; 1820.
+
+ Alas! her lamentable state 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... she was... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1820.
+
+ Oh me! ten thousand times I'd rather
+ That he had died, that cruel father! 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1820.
+
+ Last Christmas when we talked of this,
+ Old Farmer Simpson did maintain,
+ That in her womb the infant wrought 1798.]
+
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1827.
+
+ No more I know, I wish I did,
+ And I would tell it all to you; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1827.
+
+ There's none that ever knew: 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1827.
+
+ And if a child was born or no,
+ There's no one that could ever tell; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1827.
+
+ There's no one knows, as I have said, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... I've described ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 22:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... in faith, ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1798.
+
+ In truth, it was ... 1800.
+
+The edition of 1815 returns to the text of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 24:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... and what's the pond?
+ And what's the hill of moss to her?
+ And what's the ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 25:
+
+1800.
+
+ I've heard the scarlet moss is red 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 26:
+
+1845.
+
+ But then the beauteous hill of moss 1798.
+
+ It might not be--the Hill of moss 1827.
+
+ But then the beauteous Hill of moss 1832.
+ (Returning to the text of 1798.)
+
+ But then the speckled hill of moss 1836.]
+
+
+[Variant 27:
+
+1827.
+
+ But ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 28:
+
+1845.
+
+ ... is buried ... 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A:
+
+ "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" (Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal).--Ed.
+
+ "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"
+ (Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal).--Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE ON THE VARIANT
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: Compare in Buerger's 'Pfarrer's Tochter', "drei Spannen
+lang," and see Appendix V.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+GOODY BLAKE AND HARRY GILL
+
+A TRUE STORY
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [Written at Alfoxden. The incident from Dr. Darwin's 'Zooenomia'.--I.
+ F.]
+
+See Erasmus Darwin's 'Zooenomia', 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 'Il Narratore Italiano'.
+
+ "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."
+
+In the "Advertisement" to the first edition of "Lyrical Ballads,"
+Wordsworth says, "The tale of 'Goody Blake and Harry Gill' is founded on
+a well-authenticated fact which happened in Warwickshire."
+
+The following curious letter appeared in the 'Ipswich Magazine' of April
+1799:
+
+ "IPSWICH, April 2, 1799.
+
+ "To the Editors of the 'Ipswich Magazine'.
+
+ "GENTLEMEN--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 _lyric poet_ into
+ that excellent ballad."
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Oh! what's the matter? what's the matter?
+ What is't that ails young Harry Gill?
+ That evermore his teeth they chatter,
+ Chatter, chatter, chatter still!
+ Of waistcoats Harry has no lack, 5
+ Good duffle grey, and flannel fine;
+ He has a blanket on his back,
+ And coats enough to smother nine.
+
+ In March, December, and in July,
+ 'Tis all the same with Harry Gill; 10
+ The neighbours tell, and tell you truly,
+ His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
+ At night, at morning, and at noon,
+ 'Tis all the same with Harry Gill;
+ Beneath the sun, beneath the moon, 15
+ His teeth they chatter, chatter still!
+
+ Young Harry was a lusty drover,
+ And who so stout of limb as he?
+ His cheeks were red as ruddy clover;
+ His voice was like the voice of three. 20
+ Old [1] Goody Blake was old and poor;
+ Ill fed she was, and thinly clad;
+ And any man who passed her door
+ Might see how poor a hut she had.
+
+ All day she spun in her poor dwelling: 25
+ And then her three hours' work at night,
+ Alas! 'twas hardly worth the telling,
+ It would not pay for candle-light.
+ Remote from sheltered village-green,
+ On a hill's northern side she dwelt, 30
+ Where from sea-blasts the hawthorns lean,
+ And hoary dews are slow to melt. [2]
+
+ By the same fire to boil their pottage,
+ Two poor old Dames, as I have known,
+ Will often live in one small cottage; 35
+ But she, poor Woman! housed [3] alone.
+ 'Twas well enough when summer came,
+ The long, warm, lightsome summer-day,
+ Then at her door the _canty_ Dame
+ Would sit, as any linnet, gay. 40
+
+ But when the ice our streams did fetter,
+ Oh then how her old bones would shake;
+ You would have said, if you had met her,
+ 'Twas a hard time for Goody Blake.
+ Her evenings then were dull and dead: 45
+ Sad case it was, as you may think,
+ For very cold to go to bed;
+ And then for cold not sleep a wink.
+
+ O joy for her! whene'er in winter
+ The winds at night had made a rout; 50
+ And scattered many a lusty splinter
+ And many a rotten bough about.
+ Yet never had she, well or sick,
+ As every man who knew her says,
+ A pile beforehand, turf [4] or stick, 55
+ Enough to warm her for three days.
+
+ Now, when the frost was past enduring,
+ And made her poor old bones to ache,
+ Could anything be more alluring
+ Than an old hedge to Goody Blake? 60
+ And, now and then, it must be said,
+ When her old bones were cold and chill,
+ She left her fire, or left her bed,
+ To seek the hedge of Harry Gill.
+
+ Now Harry he had long suspected 65
+ This trespass of old Goody Blake;
+ And vowed that she should be detected--
+ That [5] he on her would vengeance take.
+ And oft from his warm fire he'd go,
+ And to the fields his road would take; 70
+ And there, at night, in frost and snow,
+ He watched to seize old Goody Blake.
+
+ And once, behind a rick of barley,
+ Thus looking out did Harry stand:
+ The moon was full and shining clearly, 75
+ And crisp with frost the stubble land.
+ --He hears a noise--he's all awake--
+ Again?--on tip-toe down the hill
+ He softly creeps--'tis Goody Blake;
+ She's at the hedge of Harry Gill! 80
+
+ Right glad was he when he beheld her:
+ Stick after stick did Goody pull:
+ He stood behind a bush of elder,
+ Till she had filled her apron full.
+ When with her load she turned about, 85
+ The by-way [6] back again to take;
+ He started forward, with a shout,
+ And sprang upon poor Goody Blake.
+
+ And fiercely by the arm he took her,
+ And by the arm he held her fast, 90
+ And fiercely by the arm he shook her,
+ And cried, "I've caught you then at last!"
+ Then Goody, who had nothing said,
+ Her bundle from her lap let fall;
+ And, kneeling on the sticks, she prayed 95
+ To God that is the judge of all.
+
+ She prayed, her withered hand uprearing,
+ While Harry held her by the arm--
+ "God! who art never out of hearing,
+ O may he never more be warm!" 100
+ The cold, cold moon above her head,
+ Thus on her knees did Goody pray;
+ Young Harry heard what she had said:
+ And icy cold he turned away.
+
+ He went complaining all the morrow 105
+ That he was cold and very chill:
+ His face was gloom, his heart was sorrow,
+ Alas! that day for Harry Gill!
+ That day he wore a riding-coat,
+ But not a whit the warmer he: 110
+ Another was on Thursday brought,
+ And ere the Sabbath he had three.
+
+ 'Twas all in vain, a useless matter,
+ And blankets were about him pinned;
+ Yet still his jaws and teeth they clatter, 115
+ Like a loose casement in the wind.
+ And Harry's flesh it fell away;
+ And all who see him say, 'tis plain
+ That, live as long as live he may,
+ He never will be warm again. 120
+
+ No word to any man he utters,
+ A-bed or up, to young or old;
+ But ever to himself he mutters,
+ "Poor Harry Gill is very cold."
+ A-bed or up, by night or day; 125
+ His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
+ Now think, ye farmers all, I pray,
+ Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill! [A]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1802.
+
+ Auld 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836
+
+ --This woman dwelt in Dorsetshire,
+ Her hut was on a cold hill-side,
+ And in that country coals are dear,
+ For they come far by wind and tide. 1798.
+
+ Remote from sheltering village green,
+ Upon a bleak hill-side, she dwelt,
+ Where from sea-blasts the hawthorns lean,
+ And hoary dews are slow to melt. 1820.
+
+ On a hill's northern side she dwelt. 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 3.
+
+1820.
+
+ ... dwelt ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4.
+
+1827.
+
+ ... wood ... 1798]
+
+
+[Variant 5.
+
+1836.
+
+ And ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6.
+
+1827.
+
+ The bye-road ... 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: Compare the many entries about "gathering sticks" in the
+Alfoxden woods, in Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+HER EYES ARE WILD
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [Written at Alfoxden. The subject was reported to me by a lady of
+ Bristol, who had seen the poor creature.--I. F.]
+
+From 1798 to 1805 this poem was published under the title of 'The Mad
+Mother'.
+
+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.
+
+
+I Her eyes are wild, her head is bare,
+ The sun has burnt her coal-black hair;
+ Her eyebrows have a rusty stain,
+ And she came far from over the main.
+ She has a baby on her arm, 5
+ Or else she were alone:
+ And underneath the hay-stack warm,
+ And on the greenwood stone,
+ She talked and sung the woods among,
+ And it was in the English tongue. 10
+
+
+II "Sweet babe! they say that I am mad
+ But nay, my heart is far too glad;
+ And I am happy when I sing
+ Full many a sad and doleful thing:
+ Then, lovely baby, do not fear! 15
+ I pray thee have no fear of me;
+ But safe as in a cradle, here
+ My lovely baby! thou shalt be:
+ To thee I know too much I owe;
+ I cannot work thee any woe. 20
+
+
+III "A fire was once within my brain;
+ And in my head a dull, dull pain;
+ And fiendish faces, one, two, three,
+ Hung at my breast, [1] and pulled at me;
+ But then there came a sight of joy; 25
+ It came at once to do me good;
+ I waked, and saw my little boy,
+ My little boy of flesh and blood;
+ Oh joy for me that sight to see!
+ For he was here, and only he. 30
+
+
+IV "Suck, little babe, oh suck again!
+ It cools my blood; it cools my brain;
+ Thy lips I feel them, baby! they
+ Draw from my heart the pain away.
+ Oh! press me with thy little hand; 35
+ It loosens something at my chest;
+ About that tight and deadly band
+ I feel thy little fingers prest.
+ The breeze I see is in the tree:
+ It comes to cool my babe and me. 40
+
+
+V "Oh! love me, love me, little boy!
+ Thou art thy mother's only joy;
+ And do not dread the waves below,
+ When o'er the sea-rock's edge we go;
+ The high crag cannot work me harm, 45
+ Nor leaping torrents when they howl;
+ The babe I carry on my arm,
+ He saves for me my precious soul;
+ Then happy lie; for blest am I;
+ Without me my sweet babe would die. 50
+
+
+VI "Then do not fear, my boy! for thee
+ Bold as a lion will I be; [2]
+ And I will always be thy guide,
+ Through hollow snows and rivers wide.
+ I'll build an Indian bower; I know 55
+ The leaves that make the softest bed:
+ And, if from me thou wilt not go,
+ But still be true till I am dead,
+ My pretty thing! then thou shall sing
+ As merry as the birds in spring. 60
+
+
+VII "Thy father cares not for my breast,
+ 'Tis thine, sweet baby, there to rest;
+ 'Tis all thine own!--and, if its hue
+ Be changed, that was so fair to view,
+ 'Tis fair enough for thee, my dove! 65
+ My beauty, little child, is flown,
+ But thou wilt live with me in love;
+ And what if my poor cheek be brown?
+ 'Tis well for me, thou canst not see
+ How pale and wan it else would be. 70
+
+
+VIII "Dread not their taunts, my little Life;
+ I am thy father's wedded wife;
+ And underneath the spreading tree
+ We two will live in honesty.
+ If his sweet boy he could forsake, 75
+ With me he never would have stayed:
+ From him no harm my babe can take;
+ But he, poor man! is wretched made;
+ And every day we two will pray
+ For him that's gone and far away. 80
+
+
+IX "I'll teach my boy the sweetest things:
+ I'll teach him how the owlet sings.
+ My little babe! thy lips are still,
+ And thou hast almost sucked thy fill.
+ --Where art thou gone, my own dear child? 85
+ What wicked looks are those I see?
+ Alas! alas! that look so wild,
+ It never, never came from me:
+ If thou art mad, my pretty lad,
+ Then I must be for ever sad. 90
+
+
+X "Oh! smile on me, my little lamb!
+ For I thy own dear mother am:
+ My love for thee has well been tried:
+ I've sought thy father far and wide.
+ I know the poisons of the shade; 95
+ I know the earth-nuts fit for food:
+ Then, pretty dear, be not afraid:
+ We'll find thy father in the wood.
+ Now laugh and be gay, to the woods away!
+ And there, my babe, we'll live for aye." [A] 100
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1.
+
+1820.
+
+ ... breasts ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2.
+
+1832.
+
+ ... I will be; 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A:
+
+ "For myself, I would rather have written 'The Mad Mother' 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."
+
+(S. T. C. to W. Godwin, 9th December 1800.) See 'William Godwin: his
+Friends and Contemporaries', vol. ii. p. 14.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+SIMON LEE, THE OLD HUNTSMAN;
+
+WITH AN INCIDENT IN WHICH HE WAS CONCERNED
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+This poem was classed among those of "Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ In the sweet shire of Cardigan,
+ Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall,
+ An old Man dwells, a little man,--
+ 'Tis said [1] he once was tall.
+ [2] Full five-and-thirty [3] years he lived 5
+ A running huntsman merry;
+ And still the centre of his cheek
+ Is red as a ripe cherry. [4]
+
+ No man like him the horn could sound,
+ And hill and valley rang with glee: 10
+ When Echo bandied, round and round,
+ The halloo of Simon Lee.
+ In those proud days, he little cared
+ For husbandry or tillage;
+ To blither tasks did Simon rouse 15
+ The sleepers of the village. [5]
+
+ He all the country could outrun,
+ Could leave both man and horse behind;
+ And often, ere the chase [6] was done,
+ He reeled, and was stone blind. 20
+ And still there's something in the world
+ At which his heart rejoices;
+ For when the chiming hounds are out,
+ He dearly loves their voices!
+
+ But, oh the heavy change! [A]--bereft 25
+ Of health, strength, friends, and kindred, see! [7]
+ Old Simon to the world is left
+ In liveried poverty.
+ His Master's dead,--and no one now
+ Dwells in the Hall of Ivor; 30
+ Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;
+ He is the sole survivor. [8]
+
+ And [9] he is lean and he is sick;
+ His body, dwindled and awry,
+ Rests upon ankles swoln and thick; 35
+ His legs are thin and dry.
+ One prop he has, and only one,
+ His wife, an aged woman,
+ Lives with him, near the waterfall,
+ Upon the village Common. [10] 40
+
+ Beside their moss-grown hut of clay,
+ Not twenty paces from the door,
+ A scrap of land they have, but they
+ Are poorest of the poor.
+ This scrap of land he from the heath 45
+ Enclosed when he was stronger;
+ But what to them avails the land
+ Which he can till no longer? [11]
+
+ Oft, working by her Husband's side,
+ Ruth does what Simon cannot do; 50
+ For she, with scanty cause for pride, [12]
+ Is stouter of the two.
+ And, though you with your utmost skill
+ From labour could not wean them,
+ 'Tis little, very little--all 55
+ That they can do between them. [13]
+
+ Few months of life has he in store
+ As he to you will tell,
+ For still, the more he works, the more
+ Do his weak ankles swell. [14] 60
+ My gentle Reader, I perceive
+ How patiently you've waited,
+ And now I fear [15] that you expect
+ Some tale will be related.
+
+ O Reader! had you in your mind 65
+ Such stores as silent thought can bring,[B]
+ O gentle Reader! you would find
+ A tale in every thing.
+ What more I have to say is short,
+ And you must [16] kindly take it: 70
+ It is no tale; but, should you think, [17]
+ Perhaps a tale you'll make it.
+
+ One summer-day I chanced to see
+ This old Man doing all he could
+ To unearth the root [18] of an old tree, 75
+ A stump of rotten wood.
+ The mattock tottered in his hand;
+ So vain was his endeavour,
+ That at the root of the old tree
+ He might have worked for ever. 80
+
+ "You're overtasked, good Simon Lee,
+ Give me your tool," to him I said;
+ And at the word right gladly he
+ Received my proffered aid.
+ I struck, and with a single blow 85
+ The tangled root I severed,
+ At which the poor old Man so long
+ And vainly had endeavoured.
+
+ The tears into his eyes were brought,
+ And thanks and praises seemed to run 90
+ So fast out of his heart, I thought
+ They never would have done.
+ --I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds
+ With coldness still returning;
+ Alas! the gratitude of men 95
+ Hath oftener [19] left me mourning.[C]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827.
+
+ I've heard ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2: In editions 1798 to 1815 the following is inserted:
+
+ Of years he has upon his back,
+ No doubt, a burthen weighty;
+ He says he is three score and ten,
+ But others say he's eighty.
+
+ A long blue livery-coat has he,
+ That's fair behind, and fair before;
+ Yet, meet him where you will, you see
+ At once that he is poor.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... five and twenty ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1845.
+
+ And, though he has but one eye left,
+ His cheek is like a cherry. 1798.
+
+ And still the centre of his cheek
+ Is blooming as a cherry. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1827.
+
+ No man like him the horn could sound,
+ And no man was so full of glee;
+ To say the least, four counties round
+ Had heard of Simon Lee;
+ His master's dead, and no one now
+ Dwells in the hall of Ivor;
+ Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;
+ He is the sole survivor. 1798.
+
+ Worn out by hunting feats--bereft
+ By time of friends and kindred, see!
+ Old Simon to the world is left
+ In liveried poverty.
+ His Master's dead, ... 1827.
+
+The fourth stanza of the final edition being second in 1827, and the
+second stanza being third in 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... race ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+ Of strength, of friends, and kindred, see.
+
+In MS. letter to Allan Cunningham, Nov. 1828.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1832.
+
+ His hunting feats have him bereft
+ Of his right eye, as you may see:
+ And then, what limbs those feats have left
+ To poor old Simon Lee!
+ He has no son, he has no child,
+ His wife, an aged woman,
+ Lives with him, near the waterfall,
+ Upon the village common. 1798.
+
+ His hunting feats have him bereft
+ Of his right eye, as you may see,
+ And Simon to the world is left,
+ In liveried poverty.
+ When he was young he little knew
+ Of husbandry or tillage;
+ And now is forced to work, though weak,
+ --The weakest in the village. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1798.
+
+ But ... 1820.
+
+The text of 1832 reverts to that of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1827.
+
+ His little body's half awry,
+ His ancles they are swoln and thick;
+ His legs are thin and dry.
+ When he was young he little knew
+ Of husbandry or tillage;
+ And now he's forced to work, though weak,
+ --The weakest in the village. 1798.
+
+ His dwindled body's half awry, 1800.
+
+ His ancles, too, are swoln and thick; 1815.
+
+ And now is forced to work, 1815.
+
+ His dwindled body half awry,
+ Rests upon ancles swoln and thick;
+ His legs are thin and dry.
+ He has no son, he has no child,
+ His Wife, an aged woman,
+ Lives with him, near the waterfall,
+ Upon the village Common. 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1845.
+
+ But what avails the land to them,
+ Which they can till no longer? 1798.
+
+ "But what," saith he, "avails the land,
+ Which I can till no longer?" 1827.
+
+ But what avails it now, the land
+ Which he can till no longer? 1832.
+
+ 'Tis his, but what avails the land
+ Which he can till no longer? 1837.
+
+ The time, alas! is come when he
+ Can till the land no longer. 1840.
+
+ The time is also come when he
+ Can till the land no longer. C.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1827.
+
+ Old Ruth works out of doors with him,
+ And does what Simon cannot do;
+ For she, not over stout of limb, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1840.
+
+ Alas! 'tis very little, all
+ Which they can ... 1798.
+
+ That they can ... 1837.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1815.
+
+ His poor old ancles swell. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1820.
+
+ And I'm afraid ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1820.
+
+ I hope you'll ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1798.
+
+ ... _think_,
+
+In the editions 1832 to 1843.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1815.
+
+ About the root ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1820.
+
+ Has oftner ... 1798.
+
+ Has oftener ... 1805.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: Note that the phrase: 'But oh the heavy change,' occurs in
+Milton's 'Lycidas'. (Professor Dowden.) See 'Lycidas', l. 37.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Compare Shakspeare's Sonnet, No. xxx.:
+
+ When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
+ I summon up remembrance of things past;
+
+and in Spenser's 'An epitaph upon the Right Honourable Sir Phillip
+Sidney, Knight; Lord governor of Flushing.'
+
+ Farewell, self-pleasing thoughts, which quietness brings forth.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: See Appendix VI. to this volume.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [Actually composed while I was sitting by the side of the brook that
+ runs down from the 'Comb', 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. When, with dear friends, I revisited this spot,
+ after an interval of more than forty years, [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.]
+
+
+These 'Lines' were included among the "Poems of Sentiment
+and Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ I heard a thousand blended notes,
+ While in a grove I sate reclined,
+ In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
+ Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
+
+ To her fair works did Nature link 5
+ The human soul that through me ran;
+ And much it grieved my heart to think
+ What man has made of man.
+
+ Through primrose tufts, in that green [1] bower,
+ The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; 10
+ And 'tis my faith that every flower
+ Enjoys the air it breathes. [B]
+
+ The birds around me hopped and played,
+ Their thoughts I cannot measure:--
+ But the least motion which they made, 15
+ It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
+
+ The budding twigs spread out their fan,
+ To catch the breezy air;
+ And I must think, do all I can,
+ That there was pleasure there. 20
+
+ If this belief from heaven be sent,
+ If such be Nature's holy plan, [2]
+ Have I not reason to lament
+ What man has made of man?
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+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:
+
+ The roaring dell, o'er-wooded, narrow, deep,
+ And only speckled by the midday sun;
+ Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock
+ Flings arching like a bridge;--that branchless ash,
+ Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves
+ Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still,
+ Fanned by the waterfall!
+
+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.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... sweet 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1837.
+
+ If I these thoughts may not prevent,
+ If such be of my creed the plan, 1798.
+
+ If this belief from Heaven is sent,
+ If such be nature's holy plan, 1820.
+
+ From Heaven if this belief be sent, 1827.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: See the Fenwick note to "A whirl-blast from behind the
+hill," p. 238.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: See Appendix VII.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+TO MY SISTER
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+In the editions 1798 to 1815 the title of this poem was, 'Lines written
+at a small distance from my House, and sent by my little Boy to the
+person to whom they are addressed'. From 1820 to 1843 the title was, 'To
+my Sister; written at a small distance from my House, and sent by my
+little Boy'. In 1845 and afterwards, it was simply 'To my Sister'. The
+poem was placed by Wordsworth among those of "Sentiment and
+Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ It is the first mild day of March:
+ Each minute sweeter than before
+ The redbreast sings from the tall larch
+ That stands beside our door.
+
+ There is a blessing in the air, 5
+ Which seems a sense of joy to yield
+ To the bare trees, and mountains bare,
+ And grass in the green field.
+
+ My sister! ('tis a wish of mine)
+ Now that our morning meal is done, 10
+ Make haste, your morning task resign;
+ Come forth and feel the sun.
+
+ Edward will come with you;--and, pray,
+ Put on with speed your woodland dress;
+ And bring no book: for this one day 15
+ We'll give to idleness.
+
+ No joyless forms shall regulate
+ Our living calendar:
+ We from to-day, my Friend, will date
+ The opening of the year. 20
+
+ Love, now a [1] universal birth,
+ From heart to heart is stealing,
+ From earth to man, from man to earth:
+ --It is the hour of feeling.
+
+ One moment now may give us more 25
+ Than years of toiling reason: [2]
+ Our minds shall drink at every pore
+ The spirit of the season.
+
+ Some silent laws our hearts will make, [3]
+ Which they shall long obey: 30
+ We for the year to come may take
+ Our temper from to-day.
+
+ And from the blessed power that rolls
+ About, below, above,
+ We'll frame the measure of our souls: 35
+ They shall be tuned to love.
+
+ Then come, my Sister! come, I pray,
+ With speed put on your woodland dress;
+ And bring no book: for this one day
+ We'll give to idleness. 40
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+The larch is now gone; but the place where it stood can easily be
+identified.--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... an ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1837.
+
+ Than fifty years of reason; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... may. 1798.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [This 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]--I.F.]
+
+Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ "Why, William, on that old grey stone,
+ Thus for the length of half a day,
+ Why, William, sit you thus alone,
+ And dream your time away?
+
+ "Where are your books?--that light bequeathed 5
+ To Beings else forlorn and blind!
+ Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed
+ From dead men to their kind.
+
+ "You look round on your Mother Earth,
+ As if she for no purpose bore you; 10
+ As if you were her first-born birth,
+ And none had lived before you!"
+
+ One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake,
+ When life was sweet, I knew not why,
+ To me my good friend Matthew spake, 15
+ And thus I made reply.
+
+ "The eye--it cannot choose but see;
+ We cannot bid the ear be still;
+ Our bodies feel, where'er they be,
+ Against or with our will. 20
+
+ "Nor less I deem that there are Powers
+ Which of themselves our minds impress;
+ That we can feed this mind of ours
+ In a wise passiveness.
+
+ "Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum 25
+ Of things for ever speaking,
+ That nothing of itself will come,
+ But we must still be seeking?
+
+ "--Then ask not wherefore, here, alone,
+ Conversing as I may, 30
+ I sit upon this old grey stone,
+ And dream my time away."
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: In his "Advertisement" to the first edition of "Lyrical
+Ballads" (1798) Wordsworth writes,
+
+ "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."
+
+Was the friend Sir James Mackintosh? or was it--a much more probable
+supposition--his friend, S. T. Coleridge?--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TABLES TURNED
+
+AN EVENING SCENE ON THE SAME SUBJECT
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798
+
+
+Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
+ Or surely you'll grow double:
+ Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
+ Why all this toil and trouble? [1]
+
+ The sun, above the mountain's head, 5
+ A freshening lustre mellow
+ Through all the long green fields has spread,
+ His first sweet evening yellow.
+
+ Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
+ Come, hear the woodland linnet, 10
+ How sweet his music! on my life,
+ There's more of wisdom in it.
+
+ And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
+ He, too, is [2] no mean preacher:
+ Come forth into the light of things, 15
+ Let Nature be your Teacher.
+
+ She has a world of ready wealth,
+ Our minds and hearts to bless--
+ Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
+ Truth breathed by cheerfulness. 20
+
+ One impulse from a vernal wood
+ May teach you more of man,
+ Of moral evil and of good,
+ Than all the sages can. [A]
+
+ Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; 25
+ Our meddling intellect
+ Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:--
+ We murder to dissect.
+
+ Enough of Science and of Art;
+ Close up those [3] barren leaves; 30
+ Come forth, and bring with you a heart
+ That watches and receives.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1820.
+
+ Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks,
+ Why all this toil and trouble?
+ Up! up! my friend, and quit your books,
+ Or surely you'll grow double. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ And he is ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... these ... 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: A mediaeval anticipation of this may be quoted in a
+footnote.
+
+ "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."
+
+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:
+
+ "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."
+
+See the appendix to Mabillon's edition of 'Bernardi Opera', ii. 1072,
+'S. Bernardi Vita, et Res Gesta, auctore Guilielmo'.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE COMPLAINT OF A FORSAKEN INDIAN WOMAN
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+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.
+
+ [At Alfoxden, in 1798, where I read Hearne's 'Journey' with deep
+ interest. It was composed for the volume of "Lyrical Ballads."--I. F.]
+
+Classed among the "Poems founded on the Affections."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+I Before I see another day,
+ Oh let my body die away!
+ In sleep I heard the northern gleams;
+ The stars, they were among my dreams; [1]
+ In rustling conflict through the skies, [2] 5
+ I heard, I saw the flashes drive, [3]
+ And yet they are upon my eyes,
+ And yet I am alive;
+ Before I see another day,
+ Oh let my body die away! 10
+
+
+II My fire is dead: it knew no pain;
+ Yet is it dead, and I remain:
+ All stiff with ice the ashes lie;
+ And they are dead, and I will die.
+ When I was well, I wished to live, 15
+ For clothes, for warmth, for food, and fire
+ But they to me no joy can give,
+ No pleasure now, and no desire.
+ Then here contented will I lie!
+ Alone, I cannot fear to die. 20
+
+
+III Alas! ye [4] might have dragged me on
+ Another day, a single one!
+ Too soon I yielded to despair;
+ Why did ye listen to my prayer? [5]
+ When ye [6] were gone my limbs were stronger; 25
+ And oh, how grievously I rue,
+ That, afterwards, a little longer,
+ My friends, I did not follow you!
+ For strong and without pain I lay,
+ Dear friends, when ye [7] were gone away. 30
+
+
+IV My Child! they gave thee to another,
+ A woman who was not thy mother.
+ When from my arms my Babe they took,
+ On me how strangely did he look!
+ Through his whole body something ran, 35
+ A most strange working [8] did I see;
+ --As if he strove to be a man,
+ That he might pull the sledge for me:
+ And then he stretched his arms, how wild!
+ Oh mercy! like a helpless child. [9] 40
+
+
+V My little joy! my little pride!
+ In two days more I must have died.
+ Then do not weep and grieve for me;
+ I feel I must have died with thee.
+ O wind, that o'er my head art flying 45
+ The way my friends their course did bend,
+ I should not feel the pain of dying,
+ Could I with thee a message send;
+ Too soon, my friends, ye [10] went away;
+ For I had many things to say. 50
+
+VI I'll follow you across the snow;
+ Ye [11] travel heavily and slow;
+ In spite of all my weary pain
+ I'll look upon your tents again.
+ --My fire is dead, and snowy white 55
+ The water which beside it stood:
+ The wolf has come to me to-night,
+ And he has stolen away my food.
+ For ever left alone am I;
+ Then wherefore should I fear to die? 60
+
+VII [12] Young as I am, my course is run, [13]
+ I shall not see another sun;
+ I cannot lift my limbs to know
+ If they have any life or no.
+ My poor forsaken Child, if I 65
+ For once could have thee close to me,
+ With happy heart I then would die,
+ And my last thought would happy be; [14]
+ But thou, dear Babe, art far away,
+ Nor shall I see another day. [15] 70
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1798.
+
+ The stars were mingled with my dreams; 1815.
+
+The text of 1836 returns to that of 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1820.
+
+ In sleep did I behold the skies, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1827.
+
+ I saw the crackling flashes drive; 1798.
+
+ I heard, and saw the flashes drive; 1820.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... you ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1815.
+
+ Too soon despair o'er me prevailed;
+ Too soon my heartless spirit failed; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... you ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1845.
+
+ My friends, when you ... 1798.
+
+ ... when ye ... 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1815.
+
+ A most strange something .... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... a little child. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... you ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1815.
+
+ You ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 12: This stanza was omitted in the editions 1815 to 1832, but
+restored in 1836.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1836.
+
+ My journey will be shortly run, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... I then would die,
+ And my last thoughts ... 1798.
+
+ ... I then should die, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1836.
+
+ I feel my body die away,
+ I shall not see another day. 1798.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST OF THE FLOCK
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+Included among the "Poems founded on the Affections."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+I In distant countries have I been, [1]
+ And yet I have not often seen
+ A healthy man, a man full grown,
+ Weep in the public roads, alone.
+ But such a one, on English ground, 5
+ And in the broad highway, I met;
+ Along the broad highway he came,
+ His cheeks with tears were wet:
+ Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;
+ And in his arms a Lamb he had. 10
+
+
+II He saw me, and he turned aside,
+ As if he wished himself to hide:
+ And with his coat did then essay [2]
+ To wipe those briny tears away.
+ I followed him, and said, "My friend, 15
+ What ails you? wherefore weep you so?"
+ --"Shame on me, Sir! this lusty Lamb,
+ He makes my tears to flow.
+ To-day I fetched him from the rock:
+ He is the last of all my flock. 20
+
+
+III "When I was young, a single man,
+ And after youthful follies ran,
+ Though little given to care and thought,
+ Yet, so it was, an ewe [3] I bought;
+ And other sheep from her I raised, 25
+ As healthy sheep as you might see;
+ And then I married, and was rich
+ As I could wish to be;
+ Of sheep I numbered a full score,
+ And every year increased my store. 30
+
+
+IV "Year after year my stock it grew;
+ And from this one, this single ewe,
+ Full fifty comely sheep I raised,
+ As fine [4] a flock as ever grazed!
+ Upon the Quantock hills they fed; [5] 35
+ They throve, and we at home did thrive:
+ --This lusty Lamb of all my store
+ Is all that is alive;
+ And now I care not if we die,
+ And perish all of poverty. 40
+
+
+V "Six [6] Children, Sir! had I to feed;
+ Hard labour in a time of need!
+ My pride was tamed, and in our grief
+ I of the Parish asked relief.
+ They said, I was a wealthy man; 45
+ My sheep upon the uplands [7] fed,
+ And it was fit that thence I took
+ Whereof to buy us bread.
+ 'Do this: how can we give to you,'
+ They cried, 'what to the poor is due?' 50
+
+
+VI "I sold a sheep, as they had said,
+ And bought my little children bread,
+ And they were healthy with their food;
+ For me--it never did me good.
+ A woeful time it was for me, 55
+ To see the end of all my gains,
+ The pretty flock which I had reared
+ With all my care and pains,
+ To see it melt like snow away--
+ For me it was a woeful day. 60
+
+
+VII "Another still! and still another!
+ A little lamb, and then its mother!
+ It was a vein that never stopped--
+ Like blood-drops from my heart they dropped.
+ 'Till thirty were not left alive 65
+ They dwindled, dwindled, one by one;
+ And I may say, that many a time
+ I wished they all were gone--
+ Reckless of what might come at last
+ Were but the bitter struggle past. [8] 70
+
+
+VIII "To wicked deeds I was inclined,
+ And wicked fancies crossed my mind;
+ And every man I chanced to see,
+ I thought he knew some ill of me:
+ No peace, no comfort could I find, 75
+ No ease, within doors or without;
+ And, crazily and wearily
+ I went my work about;
+ And oft was moved to flee from home,
+ And hide my head where wild beasts roam.[9] 80
+
+
+IX "Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me,
+ As dear as my own children be;
+ For daily with my growing store
+ I loved my children more and more.
+ Alas! it was an evil time; 85
+ God cursed me in my sore distress;
+ I prayed, yet every day I thought
+ I loved my children less;
+ And every week, and every day,
+ My flock it seemed to melt away. 90
+
+
+X "They dwindled, Sir, sad sight to see!
+ From ten to five, from five to three,
+ A lamb, a wether, and a ewe;-.
+ And then at last from three to two;
+ And, of my fifty, yesterday 95
+ I had but only one:
+ And here it lies upon my arm,
+ Alas! and I have none;--
+ To-day I fetched it from the rock;
+ It is the last of all my flock." 100
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1815.
+
+ ... I have been, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1836.
+
+ Then with his coat he made essay 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1832.
+
+ ... a ewe ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1836.
+
+ As sweet ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1836.
+
+ Upon the mountain did they feed; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1800.
+
+ Ten ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1836.
+
+ ... upon the mountain ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1827.
+
+ They dwindled one by one away;
+ For me it was a woeful day. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1836.
+
+ Oft-times I thought to run away;
+ For me it was a woeful day. 1798.
+
+ Bent oftentimes to flee from home,
+ And hide my head where wild beasts roam. 1827.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE IDIOT BOY
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [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.]
+
+One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ 'Tis eight o'clock,--a clear March night,
+ The moon is up,--the sky is blue,
+ The owlet, in the moonlight air,
+ Shouts from [1] nobody knows where;
+ He lengthens out his lonely shout, 5
+ Halloo! halloo! a long halloo!
+
+ --Why bustle thus about your door,
+ What means this bustle, Betty Foy?
+ Why are you in this mighty fret?
+ And why on horseback have you set 10
+ Him whom you love, your Idiot Boy?
+ [2]
+
+ Scarcely a soul is out of bed: [3]
+ Good Betty, put him down again;
+ His lips with joy they burr at you;
+ But, Betty! what has he to do 15
+ With stirrup, saddle, or with rein?
+ [4]
+
+ But Betty's bent on her intent;
+ For her good neighbour, Susan Gale,
+ Old Susan, she who dwells alone,
+ Is sick, and makes a piteous moan, 20
+ As if her very life would fail.
+
+ There's not a house within a mile,
+ No hand to help them in distress;
+ Old Susan lies a-bed in pain,
+ And sorely puzzled are the twain, 25
+ For what she ails they cannot guess.
+
+ And Betty's husband's at the wood,
+ Where by the week he doth abide,
+ A woodman in the distant vale;
+ There's none to help poor Susan Gale; 30
+ What must be done? what will betide?
+
+ And Betty from the lane has fetched
+ Her Pony, that is mild and good;
+ Whether he be in joy or pain,
+ Feeding at will along the lane, 35
+ Or bringing faggots from the wood.
+
+ And he is all in travelling trim,--
+ And, by the moonlight, Betty Foy
+ Has on the well-girt saddle set [5]
+ (The like was never heard of yet) 40
+ Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy.
+
+ And he must post without delay
+ Across the bridge and through the dale, [6]
+ And by the church, and o'er the down,
+ To bring a Doctor from the town, 45
+ Or she will die, old Susan Gale.
+
+ There is no need of boot or spur,
+ There is no need of whip or wand;
+ For Johnny has his holly-bough,
+ And with a _hurly-burly_ now 50
+ He shakes the green bough in his hand.
+
+ And Betty o'er and o'er has told
+ The Boy, who is her best delight,
+ Both what to follow, what to shun,
+ What do, and what to leave undone, 55
+ How turn to left, and how to right.
+
+ And Betty's most especial charge,
+ Was, "Johnny! Johnny! mind that you
+ Come home again, nor stop at all,--
+ Come home again, whate'er befal, 60
+ My Johnny, do, I pray you do."
+
+ To this did Johnny answer make,
+ Both with his head and with his hand,
+ And proudly shook the bridle too;
+ And then! his words were not a few, 65
+ Which Betty well could understand.
+
+ And now that Johnny is just going,
+ Though Betty's in a mighty flurry,
+ She gently pats the Pony's side,
+ On which her Idiot Boy must ride, 70
+ And seems no longer in a hurry.
+
+ But when the Pony moved his legs,
+ Oh! then for the poor Idiot Boy!
+ For joy he cannot hold the bridle,
+ For joy his head and heels are idle, 75
+ He's idle all for very joy.
+
+ And while the Pony moves his legs,
+ In Johnny's left hand you may see
+ The green bough [7] motionless and dead:
+ The Moon that shines above his head 80
+ Is not more still and mute than he.
+
+ His heart it was so full of glee,
+ That till full fifty yards were gone,
+ He quite forgot his holly whip,
+ And all his skill in horsemanship: 85
+ Oh! happy, happy, happy John.
+
+ And while the Mother, at the door,
+ Stands fixed, her face with joy o'erflows [8]
+ Proud of herself, and proud of him,
+ She sees him in his travelling trim, 90
+ How quietly her Johnny goes.
+
+ The silence of her Idiot Boy,
+ What hopes it sends to Betty's heart!
+ He's at the guide-post--he turns right;
+ She watches till he's out of sight, 95
+ And Betty will not then depart.
+
+ Burr, burr--now Johnny's lips they burr.
+ As loud as any mill, or near it;
+ Meek as a lamb the Pony moves,
+ And Johnny makes the noise he loves, 100
+ And Betty listens, glad to hear it.
+
+ Away she hies to Susan Gale:
+ Her Messenger's in merry tune; [9]
+ The owlets hoot, the owlets curr,
+ And Johnny's lips they burr, burr, burr, 105
+ As [10] on he goes beneath the moon.
+
+ His steed and he right well agree;
+ For of this Pony there's a rumour,
+ That, should he lose his eyes and ears,
+ And should he live a thousand years, 110
+ He never will be out of humour.
+
+ But then he is a horse that thinks!
+ And when he thinks, his pace is slack;
+ Now, though he knows poor Johnny well,
+ Yet, for his life, he cannot tell 115
+ What he has got upon his back.
+
+ So through the moonlight lanes they go,
+ And far into the moonlight dale,
+ And by the church, and o'er the down,
+ To bring a Doctor from the town, 120
+ To comfort poor old Susan Gale.
+
+ And Betty, now at Susan's side,
+ Is in the middle of her story,
+ What speedy help her Boy will bring, [11]
+ With many a most diverting thing, 125
+ Of Johnny's wit, and Johnny's glory.
+
+ And Betty, still at Susan's side,
+ By this time is not quite so flurried: [12]
+ Demure with porringer and plate
+ She sits, as if in Susan's fate 130
+ Her life and soul were buried.
+
+ But Betty, poor good woman! she,
+ You plainly in her face may read it,
+ Could lend out of that moment's store
+ Five years of happiness or more 135
+ To any that might need it.
+
+ But yet I guess that now and then
+ With Betty all was not so well;
+ And to the road she turns her ears,
+ And thence full many a sound she hears, 140
+ Which she to Susan will not tell.
+
+ Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;
+ "As sure as there's a moon in heaven,"
+ Cries Betty, "he'll be back again;
+ They'll both be here--'tis almost ten-- 145
+ Both will be [13] here before eleven."
+
+ Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;
+ The clock gives warning for eleven;
+ 'Tis on the stroke--"He must be near,"
+ Quoth Betty, "and will soon be here, [14] 150
+ As sure as there's a moon in heaven."
+
+ The clock is on the stroke of twelve,
+ And Johnny is not yet in sight:
+ --The Moon's in heaven, as Betty sees,
+ But Betty is not quite at ease; 155
+ And Susan has a dreadful night.
+
+ And Betty, half an hour ago,
+ On Johnny vile reflections cast:
+ "A little idle sauntering Thing!"
+ With other names, an endless string; 160
+ But now that time is gone and past.
+
+ And Betty's drooping at the heart,
+ That happy time all past and gone,
+ "How can it be he is so late?
+ The Doctor, he has made him wait; 165
+ Susan! they'll both be here anon."
+
+ And Susan's growing worse and worse,
+ And Betty's in a sad _quandary_;
+ And then there's nobody to say
+ If she must go, or she must stay! 170
+ --She's in a sad _quandary_.
+
+ The clock is on the stroke of one;
+ But neither Doctor nor his Guide
+ Appears [15] along the moonlight road;
+ There's neither horse nor man abroad, 175
+ And Betty's still at Susan's side.
+
+ And Susan now begins to fear [16]
+ Of sad mischances not a few,
+ That Johnny may perhaps be drowned;
+ Or lost, perhaps, and never found; 180
+ Which they must both for ever rue.
+
+ She prefaced half a hint of this
+ With, "God forbid it should be true!"
+ At the first word that Susan said
+ Cried Betty, rising from the bed, 185
+ "Susan, I'd gladly stay with you.
+
+ "I must be gone, I must away:
+ Consider, Johnny's but half-wise;
+ Susan, we must take care of him,
+ If he is hurt in life or limb"-- 190
+ "Oh God forbid!" poor Susan cries.
+
+ "What can I do?" says Betty, going,
+ "What can I do to ease your pain?
+ Good Susan tell me, and I'll stay;
+ I fear you're in a dreadful way, 195
+ But I shall soon be back again."
+
+ "Nay, Betty, [17] go! good Betty, go!
+ There's nothing that can ease my pain."
+ Then off she hies; but with a prayer
+ That God poor Susan's life would spare, 200
+ Till she comes back again.
+
+ So, through the moonlight lane she goes,
+ And far into the moonlight dale;
+ And how she ran, and how she walked,
+ And all that to herself she talked, 205
+ Would surely be a tedious tale.
+
+ In high and low, above, below,
+ In great and small, in round and square,
+ In tree and tower was Johnny seen,
+ In bush and brake, in black and green; 210
+ 'Twas Johnny, Johnny, every where.
+
+ And while she crossed the bridge, there came
+ A thought with which her heart is sore--[18]
+ Johnny perhaps his horse forsook,
+ To hunt the moon within the brook, [19] 215
+ And never will be heard of more.
+
+ Now is she high [20] upon the down,
+ Alone amid a prospect wide;
+ There's neither Johnny nor his Horse
+ Among the fern or in the gorse; 220
+ There's neither Doctor nor his Guide.
+
+ "Oh saints! what is become of him?
+ Perhaps he's climbed into an oak,
+ Where he will stay till he is dead;
+ Or, sadly he has been misled, 225
+ And joined the wandering gipsy-folk.
+
+ "Or him that wicked Pony's carried
+ To the dark cave, the goblin's hall;
+ Or in the castle he's pursuing
+ Among the ghosts his own undoing; 230
+ Or playing with the waterfall."
+
+ At poor old Susan then she railed,
+ While to the town she posts away;
+ "If Susan had not been so ill,
+ Alas! I should have had him still, 235
+ My Johnny, till my dying day."
+
+ Poor Betty, in this sad distemper,
+ The Doctor's self could [21] hardly spare:
+ Unworthy things she talked, and wild;
+ Even he, of cattle the most mild, 240
+ The Pony had his share.
+
+ But now she's fairly in the town, [22]
+ And to the Doctor's door she hies;
+ 'Tis silence all on every side;
+ The town so long, the town so wide, 245
+ Is silent as the skies.
+
+ And now she's at the Doctor's door,
+ She lifts the knocker, rap, rap, rap;
+ The Doctor at the casement shows
+ His glimmering eyes that peep and doze! 250
+ And one hand rubs his old night-cap.
+
+ "Oh Doctor! Doctor! where's my Johnny?"
+ "I'm here, what is't you want with me?"
+ "Oh Sir! you know I'm Betty Foy,
+ And I have lost my poor dear Boy, 255
+ You know him--him you often see;
+
+ "He's not so wise as some folks be":
+ "The devil take his wisdom!" said
+ The Doctor, looking somewhat grim,
+ "What, Woman! should I know of him?" 260
+ And, grumbling, he went back to bed!
+
+ "O woe is me! O woe is me!
+ Here will I die; here will I die;
+ I thought to find my lost one here, [23]
+ But he is neither far nor near, 265
+ Oh! what a wretched Mother I!"
+
+ She stops, she stands, she looks about;
+ Which way to turn she cannot tell.
+ Poor Betty! it would ease her pain
+ If she had heart to knock again; 270
+ --The clock strikes three--a dismal knell!
+
+ Then up along the town she hies,
+ No wonder if her senses fail;
+ This piteous news so much it shocked her,
+ She quite forgot to send the Doctor, 275
+ To comfort poor old Susan Gale.
+
+ And now she's high upon the down,
+ And she can see a mile of road:
+ "O cruel! I'm almost threescore;
+ Such night as this was ne'er before, 280
+ There's not a single soul abroad."
+
+ She listens, but she cannot hear
+ The foot of horse, the voice of man;
+ The streams with softest sound are flowing,
+ The grass you almost hear it growing, 285
+ You hear it now, if e'er you can.
+
+ The owlets through the long blue night
+ Are shouting to each other still:
+ Fond lovers! yet not quite hob nob,
+ They lengthen out the tremulous sob, 290
+ That echoes far from hill to hill.
+
+ Poor Betty now has lost all hope,
+ Her thoughts are bent on deadly sin,
+ A green-grown pond she just has past,
+ And from the brink she hurries fast, 295
+ Lest she should drown herself therein.
+
+ And now she sits her down and weeps;
+ Such tears she never shed before;
+ "Oh dear, dear Pony! my sweet joy!
+ Oh carry back my Idiot Boy! 300
+ And we will ne'er o'erload thee more."
+
+ A thought is come into her head:
+ The Pony he is mild and good,
+ And we have always used him well;
+ Perhaps he's gone along the dell, 305
+ And carried Johnny to the wood.
+
+ Then up she springs as if on wings;
+ She thinks no more of deadly sin;
+ If Betty fifty ponds should see,
+ The last of all her thoughts would be 310
+ To drown herself therein.
+
+ O Reader! now that I might tell
+ What Johnny and his Horse are doing!
+ What they've been doing all this time,
+ Oh could I put it into rhyme, 315
+ A most delightful tale pursuing!
+
+ Perhaps, and no unlikely thought!
+ He with his Pony now doth roam
+ The cliffs and peaks so high that are,
+ To lay his hands upon a star, 320
+ And in his pocket bring it home.
+
+ Perhaps he's turned himself about,
+ His face unto his horse's tail,
+ And, still and mute, in wonder lost,
+ All silent as a horseman-ghost, 325
+ He travels slowly down the vale. [24]
+
+ And now, perhaps, is hunting [25] sheep,
+ A fierce and dreadful hunter he;
+ Yon valley, now so trim [26] and green,
+ In five months' time, should he be seen, 330
+ A desert wilderness will be!
+
+ Perhaps, with head and heels on fire,
+ And like the very soul of evil,
+ He's galloping away, away,
+ And so will gallop [27] on for aye, 335
+ The bane of all that dread the devil!
+
+ I to the Muses have been bound
+ These fourteen years, by strong indentures: [A]
+ O gentle Muses! let me tell
+ But half of what to him befel; 340
+ He surely met [28] with strange adventures.
+
+ O gentle Muses! is this kind?
+ Why will ye thus my suit repel?
+ Why of your further aid bereave me?
+ And can ye thus unfriended [29] leave me; 345
+ Ye Muses! whom I love so well?
+
+ Who's yon, that, near the waterfall,
+ Which thunders down with headlong force
+ Beneath the moon, yet shining fair,
+ As careless as if nothing were, 350
+ Sits upright on a feeding horse?
+
+ Unto his horse--there feeding [30] free,
+ He seems, I think, the rein to give;
+ Of moon or stars he takes no heed;
+ Of such we in romances read: 355
+ --'Tis Johnny! Johnny! as I live.
+
+ And that's the very Pony, too!
+ Where is she, where is Betty Foy?
+ She hardly can sustain her fears;
+ The roaring waterfall she hears, 360
+ And cannot find her Idiot Boy.
+
+ Your Pony's worth his weight in gold:
+ Then calm your terrors, Betty Foy!
+ She's coming from among the trees,
+ And now all full in view she sees 365
+ Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy.
+
+ And Betty sees the Pony too:
+ Why stand you thus, good Betty Foy?
+ It is no goblin, 'tis no ghost,
+ 'Tis he whom you so long have lost, 370
+ He whom you love, your Idiot Boy.
+
+ She looks again--her arms are up--
+ She screams--she cannot move for joy;
+ She darts, as with a torrent's force,
+ She almost has o'erturned the Horse, 375
+ And fast she holds her Idiot Boy.
+
+ And Johnny burrs, and laughs aloud;
+ Whether in cunning or in joy
+ I cannot tell; but while he laughs,
+ Betty a drunken pleasure quaffs 380
+ To hear again her Idiot Boy.
+
+ And now she's at the Pony's tail,
+ And now is [31] at the Pony's head,--
+ On that side now, and now on this;
+ And, almost stifled with her bliss, 385
+ A few sad tears does Betty shed.
+
+ She kisses o'er and o'er again
+ Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy;
+ She's happy here, is happy there, [32]
+ She is uneasy every where; 390
+ Her limbs are all alive with joy.
+
+ She pats the Pony, where or when
+ She knows not, happy Betty Foy!
+ The little Pony glad may be,
+ But he is milder far than she, 395
+ You hardly can perceive his joy.
+
+ "Oh! Johnny, never mind the Doctor;
+ You've done your best, and that is all:"
+ She took the reins, when this was said,
+ And gently turned the Pony's head 400
+ From the loud waterfall.
+
+ By this the stars were almost gone,
+ The moon was setting on the hill,
+ So pale you scarcely looked at her:
+ The little birds began to stir, 405
+ Though yet their tongues were still.
+
+ The Pony, Betty, and her Boy,
+ Wind slowly through the woody dale;
+ And who is she, betimes abroad,
+ That hobbles up the steep rough road? 410
+ Who is it, but old Susan Gale?
+
+ Long time lay Susan lost in thought; [33]
+ And many dreadful fears beset her,
+ Both for her Messenger and Nurse;
+ And, as her mind grew worse and worse, 415
+ Her body--it grew better.
+
+ She turned, she tossed herself in bed,
+ On all sides doubts and terrors met her;
+ Point after point did she discuss;
+ And, while her mind was fighting thus, 420
+ Her body still grew better.
+
+ "Alas! what is become of them?
+ These fears can never be endured;
+ I'll to the wood."--The word scarce said,
+ Did Susan rise up from her bed, 425
+ As if by magic cured.
+
+ Away she goes [34] up hill and down,
+ And to the wood at length is come;
+ She spies her Friends, she shouts a greeting;
+ Oh me! it is a merry meeting 430
+ As ever was in Christendom.
+
+ The owls have hardly sung their last,
+ While our four travellers homeward wend;
+ The owls have hooted all night long,
+ And with the owls began my song, 435
+ And with the owls must end.
+
+ For while they all were travelling home,
+ Cried Betty, "Tell us, Johnny, do,
+ Where all this long night you have been,
+ What you have heard, what you have seen: 440
+ And, Johnny, mind you tell us true."
+
+ Now Johnny all night long had heard
+ The owls in tuneful concert strive;
+ No doubt too he the moon had seen;
+ For in the moonlight he had been 445
+ From eight o'clock till five.
+
+ And thus, to Betty's question, he
+ Made answer, like a traveller bold,
+ (His very words I give to you,)
+ "The cocks did crow to-whoo, to-whoo, 450
+ And the sun did shine so cold!"
+ --Thus answered Johnny in his glory,
+ And that was all his travel's story.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1827.
+
+ He shouts from ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2: Inserted in the editions 1798 to 1820.
+
+ Beneath the moon that shines so bright,
+ Till she is tired, let Betty Foy
+ With girt and stirrup fiddle-faddle;
+ But wherefore set upon a saddle
+ Him whom she loves, her idiot boy?]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1836.
+
+ There's scarce a soul that's out of bed; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 4: Inserted in the editions 1798 to 1820.
+
+ The world will say 'tis very idle,
+ Bethink you of the time of night;
+ There's not a mother, no not one,
+ But when she hears what you have done,
+ Oh! Betty she'll be in a fright.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1836.
+
+ Has up upon the saddle set, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1820.
+
+ ... that's in the dale, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... bough's ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1827.
+
+ And Betty's standing at the door,
+ And Betty's face with joy o'erflows, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1820.
+
+ And Johnny's in a merry tune, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1827.
+
+ And ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 11:
+
+1836.
+
+ What comfort Johnny soon will bring, 1798.
+
+ What comfort soon her Boy will bring, 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1827.
+
+ And Betty's still at Susan's side:
+ By this time she's not quite so flurried; 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1827.
+
+ They'll both be ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1827.
+
+ 'Tis on the stroke--"If Johnny's near,"
+ Quoth Betty, "he will soon be here," 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1836.
+
+ Appear ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... she begins to fear 1798.]
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1800.
+
+ Good Betty [i] ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1836.
+
+ She's past the bridge that's in the dale,
+ And now the thought torments her sore, 1798.
+
+ She's past the bridge far in the dale; 1820.
+
+ The bridge is past--far in the dale; 1827.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... that's in the brook, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1827.
+
+ And now she's high ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 21.
+
+1827.
+
+ ...would ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 22.
+
+1836.
+
+ And now she's got into the town, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 23:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... my Johnny here, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 24.
+
+1836.
+
+ All like a silent horseman-ghost,
+ He travels on along the vale. 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 25.
+
+1820.
+
+ ... he's hunting . . 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 26.
+
+1820.
+
+ ...that's so trim .... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 27.
+
+1827.
+
+ ...he'll gallop .... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 28.
+
+1802.
+
+ For sure he met ..... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 29.
+
+1798.
+
+ ...unfriendly....
+
+Only in MS. and in the edition of 1805.]
+
+
+[Variant 30:
+
+1827.
+
+ ...that's feeding ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 31:
+
+1827.
+
+ And now she's ... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 32:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... she's happy there, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 33:
+
+1827
+
+ Long Susan lay deep lost in thought, 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 34: 1836.
+
+ ... she posts ... 1798.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote 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 'An Evening Walk' dictated to
+Miss Fenwick (see p. 5) implies the same.--Ed.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE ON THE VARIANT
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: This change was made by S. T. C.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD CUMBERLAND BEGGAR [A]
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1800.
+
+
+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.
+
+ [Observed, and with great benefit to my own heart, when I was a child.
+ Written at Racedown and Alfoxden in my twenty-third year. [B] 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 AMENDED 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 _forced_ 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.]
+
+Included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Old Age."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;
+ And he was seated, by the highway side,
+ On a low structure of rude masonry
+ Built at the foot of a huge hill, that they
+ Who lead their horses down the steep rough road 5
+ May thence remount at ease. The aged Man
+ Had placed his staff across the broad smooth stone
+ That overlays the pile; and, from a bag
+ All white with flour, the dole of village dames,
+ He drew his scraps and fragments, one by one; 10
+ And scanned them with a fixed and serious look
+ Of idle computation. In the sun,
+ Upon the second step of that small pile,
+ Surrounded by those wild unpeopled hills,
+ He sat, and ate [1] his food in solitude: 15
+ And ever, scattered from his palsied hand,
+ That, still attempting to prevent the waste,
+ Was baffled still, the crumbs in little showers
+ Fell on the ground; and the small mountain birds,
+ Not venturing yet to peck their destined meal, 20
+ Approached within the length of half his staff.
+
+ Him from my childhood have I known; and then
+ He was so old, he seems not older now;
+ He travels on, a solitary Man,
+ So helpless in appearance, that for him 25
+ The sauntering Horseman throws not with a slack
+ And careless hand [2] his alms upon the ground,
+ But stops,--that he may safely lodge the coin
+ Within the old Man's hat; nor quits him so,
+ But still, when he has given his horse the rein, 30
+ Watches the aged Beggar with a look [3]
+ Sidelong, and half-reverted. She who tends
+ The toll-gate, when in summer at her door
+ She turns her wheel, if on the road she sees
+ The aged beggar coming, quits her work, 35
+ And lifts the latch for him that he may pass.
+ The post-boy, when his rattling wheels o'ertake
+ The aged Beggar in the woody lane,
+ Shouts to him from behind; and, if thus warned [4]
+ The old man does not change his course, the boy 40
+ Turns with less noisy wheels to the roadside,
+ And passes gently by, without a curse
+ Upon his lips, or anger at his heart.
+
+ He travels on, a solitary Man;
+ His age has no companion. On the ground 45
+ His eyes are turned, and, as he moves along,
+ _They_ move along the ground; and, evermore,
+ Instead of common and habitual sight
+ Of fields with rural works, of hill and dale,
+ And the blue sky, one little span of earth 50
+ Is all his prospect. Thus, from day to day,
+ Bow-bent, his eyes for ever on the ground, [5]
+ He plies his weary journey; seeing still,
+ And seldom [6] knowing that he sees, some straw,
+ Some scattered leaf, or marks which, in one track, 55
+ The nails of cart or chariot-wheel have left
+ Impressed on the white road,--in the same line,
+ At distance still the same. Poor Traveller!
+ His staff trails with him; scarcely do his feet [7]
+ Disturb the summer dust; he is so still 60
+ In look and motion, that the cottage curs, [8]
+ Ere he has [9] passed the door, will turn away,
+ Weary of barking at him. Boys and girls,
+ The vacant and the busy, maids and youths,
+ And urchins newly breeched--all pass him by: 65
+ Him even the slow-paced waggon leaves behind.
+
+ But deem not this Man useless.--Statesmen! ye
+ Who are so restless in your wisdom, ye
+ Who have a broom still ready in your hands
+ To rid the world of nuisances; ye proud, 70
+ Heart-swoln, while in your pride ye contemplate
+ Your talents, power, or [10] wisdom, deem him not
+ A burthen of the earth! 'Tis nature's law
+ That none, the meanest of created things,
+ Of forms created the most vile and brute, 75
+ The dullest or most noxious, should exist
+ Divorced from good--a spirit and pulse of good,
+ A life and soul, to every mode of being
+ Inseparably linked. Then be assured
+ That least of all can aught--that ever owned 80
+ The heaven-regarding eye and front sublime [C]
+ Which man is born to--sink, howe'er depressed,
+ So low as to be scorned without a sin;
+ Without offence to God cast out of view;
+ Like the dry remnant of a garden-flower 85
+ Whose seeds are shed, or as an implement
+ Worn out and worthless. [11] While from door to door
+ This old Man creeps, [12] the villagers in him
+ Behold a record which together binds
+ Past deeds and offices of charity, 90
+ Else unremembered, and so keeps alive
+ The kindly mood in hearts which lapse of years,
+ And that half-wisdom half-experience gives,
+ Make slow to feel, and by sure steps resign
+ To selfishness and cold oblivious cares. 95
+ Among the farms and solitary huts,
+ Hamlets and thinly-scattered villages,
+ Where'er the aged Beggar takes his rounds,
+ The mild necessity of use compels
+ To acts of love; and habit does the work 100
+ Of reason; yet prepares that after-joy
+ Which reason cherishes. And thus the soul,
+ By that sweet taste of pleasure unpursued
+ Doth find herself [13] insensibly disposed
+ To virtue and true goodness. 105
+ Some there are,
+ By their good works exalted, lofty minds
+ And meditative, authors of delight
+ And happiness, which to the end of time
+ Will live, and spread, and kindle: even such minds [14] 110
+ In childhood, from this solitary Being,
+ Or from like wanderer, haply have received [15]
+ (A thing more precious far than all that books
+ Or the solicitudes of love can do!)
+ That first mild touch of sympathy and thought, 115
+ In which they found their kindred with a world
+ Where want and sorrow were. The easy man
+ Who sits at his own door,--and, like the pear
+ That [16] overhangs his head from the green wall,
+ Feeds in the sunshine; the robust and young, 120
+ The prosperous and unthinking, they who live
+ Sheltered, and flourish in a little grove
+ Of their own kindred;--all behold in him
+ A silent monitor, which on their minds
+ Must needs impress a transitory thought 125
+ Of self-congratulation, to the heart
+ Of each recalling his peculiar boons,
+ His charters and exemptions; and, perchance,
+ Though he to no one give the fortitude
+ And circumspection needful to preserve 130
+ His present blessings, and to husband up
+ The respite of the season, he, at least,
+ And 'tis no vulgar service, makes them felt.
+
+ Yet further.--Many, I believe, there are
+ Who live a life of virtuous decency, 135
+ Men who can hear the Decalogue and feel
+ No self-reproach; who of the moral law
+ Established in the land where they abide
+ Are strict observers; and not negligent
+ In acts of love to those with whom they dwell, [17] 140
+ Their kindred, and the children of their blood.
+ Praise be to such, and to their slumbers peace!
+ --But of the poor man ask, the abject poor;
+ Go, and demand of him, if there be here
+ In this cold abstinence from evil deeds, 145
+ And these inevitable charities,
+ Wherewith to satisfy the human soul?
+ No--man is dear to man; the poorest poor
+ Long for some moments in a weary life
+ When they can know and feel that they have been, 150
+ Themselves, the fathers and the dealers-out
+ Of some small blessings; have been kind to such
+ As needed kindness, for this single cause,
+ That we have all of us one human heart.
+ --Such pleasure is to one kind Being known, 155
+ My neighbour, when with punctual care, each week
+ Duly as Friday comes, though pressed herself
+ By her own wants, she from her store [18] of meal
+ Takes one unsparing handful for the scrip
+ Of this old Mendicant, and, from her door 160
+ Returning with exhilarated heart,
+ Sits by her fire, and builds her hope in heaven.
+
+ Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!
+ And while in that vast solitude to which
+ The tide of things has borne [19] him, he appears 165
+ To breathe and live but for himself alone,
+ Unblamed, uninjured, let him bear about
+ The good which the benignant law of Heaven
+ Has hung around him: and, while life is his,
+ Still let him prompt the unlettered villagers 170
+ To tender offices and pensive thoughts. [D]
+ --Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!
+ And, long as he can wander, let him breathe
+ The freshness of the valleys; let his blood
+ Struggle with frosty air and winter snows; 175
+ And let the chartered wind that sweeps the heath
+ Beat his grey locks against his withered face.
+ Reverence the hope whose vital anxiousness
+ Gives the last human interest to his heart.
+ May never HOUSE, misnamed of INDUSTRY, 180
+ Make him a captive!--for that pent-up din,
+ Those life-consuming sounds that clog the air,
+ Be his the natural silence of old age!
+ Let him be free of mountain solitudes;
+ And have around him, whether heard or not, 185
+ The pleasant melody of woodland birds.
+ Few are his pleasures: if his eyes have now
+ Been doomed so long to settle upon earth
+ That not without some effort they behold
+ The countenance of the horizontal sun, [20] 190
+ Rising or setting, let the light at least
+ Find a free entrance to their languid orbs.
+ And let him, _where_ and _when_ he will, sit down
+ Beneath the trees, or on a [21] grassy bank
+ Of highway side, and with the little birds 195
+ Share his chance-gathered meal; and, finally,
+ As in the eye of Nature he has lived,
+ So in the eye of Nature let him die! [E]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1805.
+
+... eat ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1837.
+
+ The sauntering horseman-traveller does not throw
+ With careless hand ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 3:
+
+1827.
+
+ Towards the aged Beggar turns a look, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 4:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... and, if perchance 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 5:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... and, evermore,
+ Instead of Nature's fair variety,]
+ Her ample scope of hill and dale, of clouds
+ And the blue sky, the same short span of earth
+ Is all his prospect. When the little birds
+ Flit over him, if their quick shadows strike
+ Across his path, he does not lift his head
+ Like one whose thoughts have been unsettled. So
+ Brow-bent, his eyes for ever ... MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 6:
+
+1827.
+
+ And never ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 7:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... his slow footsteps scarce MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 8:
+
+1800.
+
+ ... that the miller's dog
+ Is tired of barking at him. MS.]
+
+
+[Variant 9:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... have ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 10:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... and ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 11: The lines from "Then be assured" to "worthless" were added
+in the edition of 1837.]
+
+
+[Variant 12:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... While thus he creeps
+ From door to door, ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 13:
+
+1832.
+
+ ... itself ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 14:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... ; minds like these, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 15:
+
+1827.
+
+ This helpless wanderer, have perchance receiv'd, 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 16:
+
+1827.
+
+ Which ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 17:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... and not negligent,
+ Meanwhile, in any tenderness of heart
+ Or act of love ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 18:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... chest ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 19:
+
+1827.
+
+ ... led ... 1800.]
+
+
+[Variant 20:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... if his eyes, which now
+ Have been so long familiar with the earth,
+ No more behold the horizontal sun 1800.
+
+ ... if his eyes have now
+ Been doomed so long to settle on the earth
+ That not without some effort they behold
+ The countenance of the horizontal sun, 1815.]
+
+
+[Variant 21:
+
+1837.
+
+ ... or by the ... 1800.]
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: In an early MS. the title of this poem is 'Description of a
+Beggar', and in the editions 1800 to 1820 the title was 'The Old
+Cumberland Beggar, a Description'.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: Wordsworth went to Racedown in 1795, when he was
+twenty-five years of age; and was at Alfoxden in his twenty-eighth
+year.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: Compare Ovid's 'Metamorphoses' I. 84:
+
+ Os homini sublime dedit, coelumque videre
+ Jussit et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus.
+
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: With this poem compare Frederick William Faber's "Hymn,"
+which he called 'The Old Labourer', beginning:
+
+ What end doth he fulfil!
+ He seems without a will.
+Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote E: In January 1801 Charles Lamb thus wrote to Wordsworth of
+his 'Old Cumberland Beggar':
+
+ "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,"
+
+At the same time he refers to
+
+ "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."
+
+('The Letters of Charles Lamb', edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p.
+163.)--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+ANIMAL TRANQUILLITY AND DECAY
+
+
+Composed 1798.--Published 1798.
+
+
+ [If I recollect right, these verses were an overflowing from 'The Old
+ Cumberland Beggar'.--I. F.]
+
+They were published in the first edition of "Lyrical Ballads" (1798),
+but 'The Old Cumberland Beggar' was not published till 1800. In an early
+MS., however, the two are incorporated.
+
+In the edition of 1798, the poem was called, 'Old Man Travelling; Animal
+Tranquillity and Decay, a Sketch'. In 1800, the title was 'Animal
+Tranquillity and Decay. A Sketch'. In 1845, it was 'Animal Tranquillity
+and Decay'.
+
+It was included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Old
+Age."--Ed.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE POEM
+
+
+ The little hedgerow birds,
+ That peck along the road, regard him not.
+ He travels on, and in his face, his step,
+ His gait, is one expression: every limb,
+ His look and bending figure, all bespeak 5
+ A man who does not move with pain, but moves
+ With thought.--He is insensibly subdued
+ To settled quiet: he is one by whom
+ All effort seems forgotten; one to whom
+ Long patience hath [1] such mild composure given, 10
+ That patience now doth seem a thing of which
+ He hath no need. He is by nature led
+ To peace so perfect that the young behold
+ With envy, what the Old Man hardly feels. [2]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
+
+[Variant 1:
+
+1805.
+
+ ...has... 1798.]
+
+
+[Variant 2:
+
+1815.
+
+ --I asked him whither he was bound, and what
+ The object of his journey; he replied
+ "Sir! I am going many miles to take
+ A last leave of my son, a mariner,
+ Who from a sea-fight has been brought to Falmouth,
+ And there is dying in an hospital." 1798.
+
+ ... he replied
+ That he was going many miles to take
+ A last leave of his son, a mariner,
+ Who from a sea-fight had been brought to Falmouth,
+ And there was dying [i] in an hospital. 1800 to 1805.]
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUB-FOOTNOTE ON THE VARIANT
+
+[Sub-Footnote i: The edition of 1800 has "lying," evidently a
+misprint.--Ed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX
+
+
+
+I
+
+The following is the full text of the original edition of 'Descriptive
+Sketches', first published in 1793:
+
+
+DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES
+
+IN VERSE.
+TAKEN DURING A
+PEDESTRIAN TOUR
+IN THE
+ITALIAN, GRISON, SWISS, AND SAVOYARD
+ALPS. BY
+W. WORDSWORTH, B.A.
+OF ST. JOHN'S, CAMBRIDGE.
+"LOCA PASTORUM DESERTA ATQUE OTIA DIA."
+'Lucret'.
+"CASTELLA IN TUMULIS--
+ET LONGE SALTUS LATEQUE VACANTES."
+'Virgil'.
+LONDON:
+PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD.
+1793.
+
+
+TO THE REV. ROBERT JONES, FELLOW OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
+
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+I am Dear Sir,
+
+Your most obedient very humble Servant
+
+W. WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+'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.'
+
+
+DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES [A]
+
+
+ Were there, below, a spot of holy ground,
+ By Pain and her sad family unfound,
+ Sure, Nature's GOD that spot to man had giv'n,
+ Where murmuring rivers join the song of ev'n;
+ Where falls the purple morning far and wide 5
+ In flakes of light upon the mountain-side;
+ Where summer Suns in ocean sink to rest,
+ Or moonlight Upland lifts her hoary breast;
+ Where Silence, on her night of wing, o'er-broods
+ Unfathom'd dells and undiscover'd woods; 10
+ Where rocks and groves the power of waters shakes
+ In cataracts, or sleeps in quiet lakes.
+
+ But doubly pitying Nature loves to show'r
+ Soft on his wounded heart her healing pow'r,
+ Who plods o'er hills and vales his road forlorn, 15
+ Wooing her varying charms from eve to morn.
+ No sad vacuities his heart annoy,
+ Blows not a Zephyr but it whispers joy;
+ For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale;
+ He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale; 20
+ For him sod-seats the cottage-door adorn,
+ And peeps the far-off spire, his evening bourn!
+ Dear is the forest frowning o'er his head,
+ And dear the green-sward to his velvet tread;
+ Moves there a cloud o'er mid-day's flaming eye? 25
+ Upward he looks--and calls it luxury;
+ Kind Nature's charities his steps attend,
+ In every babbling brook he finds a friend,
+ While chast'ning thoughts of sweetest use, bestow'd
+ By Wisdom, moralize his pensive road. 30
+ Host of his welcome inn, the noon-tide bow'r,
+ To his spare meal he calls the passing poor;
+ He views the Sun uprear his golden fire,
+ Or sink, with heart alive like [B] Memnon's lyre;
+ Blesses the Moon that comes with kindest ray 35
+ To light him shaken by his viewless way.
+ With bashful fear no cottage children steal
+ From him, a brother at the cottage meal,
+ His humble looks no shy restraint impart,
+ Around him plays at will the virgin heart. 40
+ While unsuspended wheels the village dance,
+ The maidens eye him with inquiring glance,
+ Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing Care
+ Or desperate Love could lead a wanderer there.
+
+ Me, lur'd by hope her sorrows to remove, 45
+ A heart, that could not much itself approve,
+ O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led,
+ [C] Her road elms rustling thin above my head,
+ Or through her truant pathway's native charms,
+ By secret villages and lonely farms, 50
+ To where the Alps, ascending white in air,
+ Toy with the Sun, and glitter from afar.
+
+ Ev'n now I sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom
+ Weeping beneath his chill of mountain gloom.
+ Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe 55
+ Tam'd "sober Reason" till she crouch'd in fear?
+ That breath'd a death-like peace these woods around
+ Broke only by th' unvaried torrent's sound,
+ Or prayer-bell by the dull cicada drown'd.
+ The cloister startles at the gleam of arms, 60
+ And Blasphemy the shuddering fane alarms;
+ Nod the cloud-piercing pines their troubl'd heads,
+ Spires, rocks, and lawns, a browner night o'erspreads.
+ Strong terror checks the female peasant's sighs,
+ And start th' astonish'd shades at female eyes. 65
+ The thundering tube the aged angler hears,
+ And swells the groaning torrent with his tears.
+ From Bruno's forest screams the frighted jay,
+ And slow th' insulted eagle wheels away.
+ The cross with hideous laughter Demons mock, 70
+ By [D] angels planted on the aereal rock.
+ The "parting Genius" sighs with hollow breath
+ Along the mystic streams of [E] Life and Death.
+ Swelling the outcry dull, that long resounds
+ Portentous, thro' her old woods' trackless bounds, 75
+ Deepening her echoing torrents' awful peal
+ And bidding paler shades her form conceal,
+ [F] Vallombre, mid her falling fanes, deplores,
+ For ever broke, the sabbath of her bow'rs.
+
+ More pleas'd, my foot the hidden margin roves 80
+ Of Como bosom'd deep in chesnut groves.
+ No meadows thrown between, the giddy steeps
+ Tower, bare or sylvan, from the narrow deeps.
+ To towns, whose shades of no rude sound complain,
+ To ringing team unknown and grating wain, 85
+ To flat-roof'd towns, that touch the water's bound,
+ Or lurk in woody sunless glens profound,
+ Or from the bending rocks obtrusive cling,
+ And o'er the whiten'd wave their shadows fling;
+ Wild round the steeps the little [G] pathway twines, 90
+ And Silence loves it's purple roof of vines.
+ The viewless lingerer hence, at evening, sees
+ From rock-hewn steps the sail between the trees;
+ Or marks, mid opening cliffs, fair dark-ey'd maids
+ Tend the small harvest of their garden glades, 95
+ Or, led by distant warbling notes, surveys,
+ With hollow ringing ears and darkening gaze,
+ Binding the charmed soul in powerless trance,
+ Lip-dewing Song and ringlet-tossing Dance,
+ Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume 100
+ The bosom'd cabin's lyre-enliven'd gloom;
+ Or stops the solemn mountain-shades to view
+ Stretch, o'er their pictur'd mirror, broad and blue,
+ Tracking the yellow sun from steep to steep,
+ As up th' opposing hills, with tortoise foot, they creep. 105
+ Here half a village shines, in gold array'd,
+ Bright as the moon, half hides itself in shade.
+ From the dark sylvan roofs the restless spire
+ Inconstant glancing, mounts like springing fire.
+ There, all unshaded, blazing forests throw no 110
+ Rich golden verdure on the waves below.
+ Slow glides the sail along th' illumin'd shore,
+ And steals into the shade the lazy oar.
+ Soft bosoms breathe around contagious sighs,
+ And amourous music on the water dies. 115
+ Heedless how Pliny, musing here, survey'd
+ Old Roman boats and figures thro' the shade,
+ Pale Passion, overpower'd, retires and woos
+ The thicket, where th' unlisten'd stock-dove coos.
+
+ How bless'd, delicious Scene! the eye that greets 120
+ Thy open beauties, or thy lone retreats;
+ Th' unwearied sweep of wood thy cliffs that scales,
+ The never-ending waters of thy vales;
+ The cots, those dim religious groves enbow'r,
+ Or, under rocks that from the water tow'r 125
+ Insinuated, sprinkling all the shore,
+ Each with his household boat beside the door,
+ Whose flaccid sails in forms fantastic droop,
+ Bright'ning the gloom where thick the forests stoop;
+ --Thy torrents shooting from the clear-blue sky, 130
+ Thy towns, like swallows' nests that cleave on high;
+ That glimmer hoar in eve's last light, descry'd
+ Dim from the twilight water's shaggy side,
+ Whence lutes and voices down th' enchanted woods
+ Steal, and compose the oar-forgotten floods, 135
+ While Evening's solemn bird melodious weeps,
+ Heard, by star-spotted bays, beneath the steeps;
+ --Thy lake, mid smoking woods, that blue and grey
+ Gleams, streak'd or dappled, hid from morning's ray
+ Slow-travelling down the western hills, to fold 140
+ It's green-ting'd margin in a blaze of gold;
+ From thickly-glittering spires the matin-bell
+ Calling the woodman from his desert cell,
+ A summons to the sound of oars, that pass,
+ Spotting the steaming deeps, to early mass; 145
+ Slow swells the service o'er the water born,
+ While fill each pause the ringing woods of morn.
+
+ Farewel! those forms that, in thy noon-tide shade,
+ Rest, near their little plots of wheaten glade;
+ Those stedfast eyes, that beating breasts inspire 150
+ To throw the "sultry ray" of young Desire;
+ Those lips, whose tides of fragrance come, and go,
+ Accordant to the cheek's unquiet glow;
+ Those shadowy breasts in love's soft light array'd,
+ And rising, by the moon of passion sway'd. 155
+
+ --Thy fragrant gales and lute-resounding streams,
+ Breathe o'er the failing soul voluptuous dreams;
+ While Slavery, forcing the sunk mind to dwell
+ On joys that might disgrace the captive's cell,
+ Her shameless timbrel shakes along thy marge, 160
+ And winds between thine isles the vocal barge.
+
+ Yet, arts are thine that rock th' unsleeping heart,
+ And smiles to Solitude and Want impart.
+ I lov'd, mid thy most desert woods astray,
+ With pensive step to measure my slow way, [H] 165
+ By lonely, silent cottage-doors to roam,
+ The far-off peasant's day-deserted home;
+ Once did I pierce to where a cabin stood,
+ The red-breast peace had bury'd it in wood,
+ There, by the door a hoary-headed sire 170
+ Touch'd with his wither'd hand an aged lyre;
+ Beneath an old-grey oak as violets lie,
+ Stretch'd at his feet with stedfast, upward eye,
+ His children's children join'd the holy sound,
+ A hermit--with his family around. 175
+
+ Hence shall we seek where fair Locarno smiles
+ Embower'd in walnut slopes and citron isles,
+ Or charms that smile on Tusa's evening stream,
+ While mid dim towers and woods her [I] waters gleam;
+ From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire 180
+ The dull-red steeps, and darkening still, aspire,
+ To where afar rich orange lustres glow
+ Round undistinguish'd clouds, and rocks, and snow;
+ Or, led where Viamala's chasms confine
+ Th' indignant waters of the infant Rhine, 185
+ Bend o'er th' abyss?--the else impervious gloom
+ His burning eyes with fearful light illume.
+ The Grison gypsey here her tent has plac'd,
+ Sole human tenant of the piny waste;
+ Her tawny skin, dark eyes, and glossy locks, 190
+ Bend o'er the smoke that curls beneath the rocks.
+
+ --The mind condemn'd, without reprieve, to go
+ O'er life's long deserts with it's charge of woe,
+ With sad congratulation joins the train,
+ Where beasts and men together o'er the plain 195
+ Move on,--a mighty caravan of pain;
+ Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings,
+ Freshening the waste of sand with shades and springs.
+
+ --She solitary through the desert drear
+ Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear. 200
+
+ A giant moan along the forest swells
+ Protracted, and the twilight storm foretells,
+ And, ruining from the cliffs their deafening load
+ Tumbles, the wildering Thunder slips abroad;
+ On the high summits Darkness comes and goes, 205
+ Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows;
+ The torrent, travers'd by the lustre broad,
+ Starts like a horse beside the flashing road;
+ In the roof'd [J] bridge, at that despairing hour,
+ She seeks a shelter from the battering show'r. 210
+ --Fierce comes the river down; the crashing wood
+ Gives way, and half it's pines torment the flood;
+ [K] Fearful, beneath, the Water-spirits call,
+ And the bridge vibrates, tottering to its fall.
+
+ --Heavy, and dull, and cloudy is the night, 215
+ No star supplies the comfort of it's light,
+ Glimmer the dim-lit Alps, dilated, round,
+ And one sole light shifts in the vale profound;
+ While, opposite, the waning moon hangs still,
+ And red, above her melancholy hill. 220
+ By the deep quiet gloom appall'd, she sighs,
+ Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes.
+ --Breaking th' ascending roar of desert floods,
+ And insect buzz, that stuns the sultry woods,
+ She hears, upon the mountain forest's brow, 225
+ The death-dog, howling loud and long, below;
+ On viewless fingers counts the valley-clock,
+ Followed by drowsy crow of midnight cock.
+ --Bursts from the troubl'd Larch's giant boughs
+ The pie, and chattering breaks the night's repose. 230
+ Low barks the fox; by Havoc rouz'd the bear,
+ Quits, growling, the white bones that strew his lair;
+ The dry leaves stir as with the serpent's walk,
+ And, far beneath, Banditti voices talk;
+ Behind her hill the Moon, all crimson, rides, 235
+ And his red eyes the slinking Water hides;
+ Then all is hush'd; the bushes rustle near,
+ And with strange tinglings sings her fainting ear.
+ --Vex'd by the darkness, from the piny gulf
+ Ascending, nearer howls the famish'd wolf, 240
+ While thro' the stillness scatters wild dismay,
+ Her babe's small cry, that leads him to his prey.
+
+ Now, passing Urseren's open vale serene,
+ Her quiet streams, and hills of downy green,
+ Plunge with the Russ embrown'd by Terror's breath, 245
+ Where danger roofs the narrow walks of death;
+ By floods, that, thundering from their dizzy height,
+ Swell more gigantic on the stedfast sight;
+ Black drizzling craggs, that beaten by the din,
+ Vibrate, as if a voice complain'd within; 250
+ Bare steeps, where Desolation stalks, afraid,
+ Unstedfast, by a blasted yew upstay'd;
+ By [L] cells whose image, trembling as he prays,
+ Awe-struck, the kneeling peasant scarce surveys;
+ Loose-hanging rocks the Day's bless'd eye that hide, 255
+ And [M] crosses rear'd to Death on every side,
+ Which with cold kiss Devotion planted near,
+ And, bending, water'd with the human tear,
+ Soon fading "silent" from her upward eye,
+ Unmov'd with each rude form of Danger nigh, 260
+ Fix'd on the anchor left by him who saves
+ Alike in whelming snows and roaring waves.
+
+ On as we move, a softer prospect opes,
+ Calm huts, and lawns between, and sylvan slopes.
+ While mists, suspended on th' expiring gale, 265
+ Moveless o'er-hang the deep secluded vale,
+ The beams of evening, slipping soft between,
+ Light up of tranquil joy a sober scene;
+ Winding it's dark-green wood and emerald glade,
+ The still vale lengthens underneath the shade; 270
+ While in soft gloom the scattering bowers recede,
+ Green dewy lights adorn the freshen'd mead,
+ Where solitary forms illumin'd stray
+ Turning with quiet touch the valley's hay,
+ On the low [N] brown wood-huts delighted sleep 275
+ Along the brighten'd gloom reposing deep.
+ While pastoral pipes and streams the landscape lull,
+ And bells of passing mules that tinkle dull,
+ In solemn shapes before th' admiring eye
+ Dilated hang the misty pines on high, 280
+ Huge convent domes with pinnacles and tow'rs,
+ And antique castles seen tho' drizzling show'rs.
+
+ From such romantic dreams my sould awake,
+ Lo! Fear looks silent down on Uri's lake,
+ By whose unpathway'd margin still and dread 285
+ Was never heard the plodding peasant's tread.
+ Tower like a wall the naked rocks, or reach
+ Far o'er the secret water dark with beech,
+ More high, to where creation seems to end,
+ Shade above shade the desert pines ascend, 290
+ And still, below, where mid the savage scene
+ Peeps out a little speck of smilgin green,
+ There with his infants man undaunted creeps
+ And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps.
+ A garden-plot the desert air perfumes, 295
+ Mid the dark pines a little orchard blooms,
+ A zig-zag path from the domestic skiff
+ Threading the painful cragg surmounts the cliff.
+ --Before those hermit doors, that never know
+ The face of traveller passing to and fro, 300
+ No peasant leans upon his pole, to tell
+ For whom at morning toll'd the funeral bell,
+ Their watch-dog ne'er his angry bark forgoes,
+ Touch'd by the beggar's moan of human woes,
+ The grass seat beneath their casement shade 305
+ The pilgrim's wistful eye hath never stay'd.
+ --There, did the iron Genius not disdain
+ The gentle Power that haunts the myrtle plain,
+ There might the love-sick maiden sit, and chide
+ Th' insuperable rocks and severing tide, 310
+ There watch at eve her lover's sun-gilt sail
+ Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale,
+ There list at midnight till is heard no more,
+ Below, the echo of his parting oar,
+ There hang in fear, when growls the frozen stream, 315
+ To guide his dangerous tread the taper's gleam.
+
+ Mid stormy vapours ever driving by,
+ Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry,
+ Where hardly giv'n the hopeless waste to chear,
+ Deny'd the bread of life the foodful ear, 320
+ Dwindles the pear on autumn's latest spray,
+ And apple sickens pale in summer's ray,
+ Ev'n here Content has fix'd her smiling reign
+ With Independance child of high Disdain.
+ Exulting mid the winter of the skies, 325
+ Shy as the jealous chamois, Freedom flies,
+ And often grasps her sword, and often eyes,
+ Her crest a bough of Winter's bleakest pine,
+ Strange "weeds" and alpine plants her helm entwine,
+ And wildly-pausing oft she hangs aghast, 330
+ While thrills the "Spartan fife" between the blast.
+
+ 'Tis storm; and hid in mist from hour to hour
+ All day the floods a deeper murmur pour,
+ And mournful sounds, as of a Spirit lost,
+ Pipe wild along the hollow-blustering coast, 335
+ 'Till the Sun walking on his western field
+ Shakes from behind the clouds his flashing shield.
+ Triumphant on the bosom of the storm,
+ Glances the fire-clad eagle's wheeling form;
+ Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine 340
+ The wood-crown'd cliffs that o'er the lake recline;
+ Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold,
+ At once to pillars turn'd that flame with gold;
+ Behind his sail the peasant strives to shun
+ The west that burns like one dilated sun, 345
+ Where in a mighty crucible expire
+ The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire. [O]
+
+ But lo! the boatman, over-aw'd, before
+ The pictur'd fane of Tell suspends his oar;
+ Confused the Marathonian tale appears, 350
+ While burn in his full eyes the glorious tears.
+ And who but feels a power of strong controul,
+ Felt only there, oppress his labouring soul,
+ Who walks, where honour'd men of ancient days
+ Have wrought with god-like arm the deeds of praise? 355
+ Say, who, by thinking on Canadian hills,
+ Or wild Aosta lulled by Alpine rills,
+ On Zutphen's plain; or where with soften'd gaze
+ The old grey stones the plaided chief surveys,
+ Can guess the high resolve, the cherish'd pain 360
+ Of him whom passion rivets to the plain,
+ Where breath'd the gale that caught Wolfe's happiest sigh,
+ And the last sun-beam fell on Bayard's eye,
+ Where bleeding Sydney from the cup retir'd,
+ And glad Dundee in "faint huzzas" expir'd. 365
+
+ But now with other soul I stand alone
+ Sublime upon this far-surveying cone,
+ And watch from [P] pike to pike amid the sky
+ Small as a bird the chamois-chaser fly.
+ 'Tis his with fearless step at large to roam 370
+ Thro' wastes, of Spirits wing'd the solemn home,
+ [Q] Thro' vacant worlds where Nature never gave
+ A brook to murmur or a bough to wave,
+ Which unsubstantial Phantoms sacred keep;
+ Thro' worlds where Life and Sound, and Motion sleep, 375
+ Where Silence still her death-like reign extends,
+ Save when the startling cliff unfrequent rends:
+ In the deep snow the mighty ruin drown'd,
+ Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound;
+ --To mark a planet's pomp and steady light 380
+ In the least star of scarce-appearing night,
+ And neighbouring moon, that coasts the vast profound,
+ Wheel pale and silent her diminish'd round,
+ While far and wide the icy summits blaze
+ Rejoicing in the glory of her rays; 385
+ The star of noon that glitters small and bright,
+ Shorn of his beams, insufferably white,
+ And flying fleet behind his orb to view
+ Th' interminable sea of sable blue.
+ --Of cloudless suns no more ye frost-built spires 390
+ Refract in rainbow hues the restless fires!
+ Ye dewy mists the arid rocks o'er-spread
+ Whose slippery face derides his deathful tread!
+
+ --To wet the peak's impracticable sides
+ He opens of his feet the sanguine tides, 395
+ Weak and more weak the issuing current eyes
+ Lapp'd by the panting tongue of thirsty skies. [R]
+ --At once bewildering mists around him close,
+ And cold and hunger are his least of woes;
+ The Demon of the snow with angry roar 400
+ Descending, shuts for aye his prison door.
+ Craz'd by the strength of hope at morn he eyes
+ As sent from heav'n the raven of the skies,
+ Then with despair's whole weight his spirits sink,
+ No bread to feed him, and the snow his drink, 405
+ While ere his eyes can close upon the day,
+ The eagle of the Alps o'ershades his prey.
+ --Meanwhile his wife and child with cruel hope
+ All night the door at every moment ope;
+ Haply that child in fearful doubt may gaze, 410
+ Passing his father's bones in future days,
+ Start at the reliques of that very thigh,
+ On which so oft he prattled when a boy.
+
+ Hence shall we turn where, heard with fear afar,
+ Thunders thro' echoing pines the headlong Aar? 415
+ Or rather stay to taste the mild delights
+ Of pensive [S] Underwalden's pastoral heights?
+
+ --Is there who mid these awful wilds has seen
+ The native Genii walk the mountain green?
+ Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal, 420
+ Soft music from th' aereal summit steal?
+ While o'er the desert, answering every close,
+ Rich steam of sweetest perfume comes and goes.
+ --And sure there is a secret Power that reigns
+ Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes, 425
+ Nought but the herds that pasturing upward creep,
+ Hung dim-discover'd from the dangerous steep,
+ [T] Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high
+ Suspended, mid the quiet of the sky.
+
+ How still! no irreligious sound or sight 430
+ Rouzes the soul from her severe delight.
+ An idle voice the sabbath region fills
+ Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills,
+ Broke only by the melancholy sound
+ Of drowsy bells for ever tinkling round; 435
+ Faint wail of eagle melting into blue
+ Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods steady sugh; [U]
+ The solitary heifer's deepen'd low;
+ Or rumbling heard remote of falling snow.
+ Save that, the stranger seen below, the boy 440
+ Shouts from the echoing hills with savage joy.
+
+ When warm from myrtle bays and tranquil seas,
+ Comes on, to whisper hope, the [V] vernal breeze,
+ When hums the mountain bee in May's glad ear,
+ And emerald isles to spot the heights appear, 445
+ When shouts and lowing herds the valley fill,
+ And louder torrents stun the noon-tide hill,
+ When fragrant scents beneath th' enchanted tread
+ Spring up, his little all around him spread,
+ The pastoral Swiss begins the cliffs to scale 450
+ To silence leaving the deserted vale,
+ Up the green mountain tracking Summer's feet,
+ Each twilight earlier call'd the Sun to meet,
+ With earlier smile the ray of morn to view
+ Fall on his shifting hut that gleams mid smoking dew; 455
+ Bless'd with his herds, as in the patriarch's age,
+ The summer long to feed from stage to stage;
+ O'er azure pikes serene and still, they go,
+ And hear the rattling thunder far below;
+ Or lost at eve in sudden mist the day 460
+ Attend, or dare with minute-steps their way;
+ Hang from the rocks that tremble o'er the steep,
+ And tempt the icy valley yawning deep,
+ O'er-walk the chasmy torrent's foam-lit bed,
+ Rock'd on the dizzy larch's narrow tread, 465
+ Whence Danger leans, and pointing ghastly, joys
+ To mock the mind with "desperation's toys";
+ Or steal beneath loose mountains, half deterr'd,
+ That sigh and shudder to the lowing herd.
+ --I see him, up the midway cliff he creeps 470
+ To where a scanty knot of verdure peeps,
+ Thence down the steep a pile of grass he throws
+ The fodder of his herds in winter snows.
+ Far different life to what tradition hoar
+ Transmits of days more bless'd in times of yore. [W] 475
+ Then Summer lengthen'd out his season bland,
+ And with rock-honey flow'd the happy land.
+ Continual fountains welling chear'd the waste,
+ And plants were wholesome, now of deadly taste.
+ Nor Winter yet his frozen stores had pil'd 480
+ Usurping where the fairest herbage smil'd;
+ Nor Hunger forc'd the herds from pastures bare
+ For scanty food the treacherous cliffs to dare.
+ Then the milk-thistle bad those herds demand
+ Three times a day the pail and welcome hand. 485
+ But human vices have provok'd the rod
+ Of angry Nature to avenge her God.
+ Thus does the father to his sons relate,
+ On the lone mountain top, their chang'd estate.
+ Still, Nature, ever just, to him imparts 490
+ Joys only given to uncorrupted hearts.
+ --'Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows,
+ More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose.
+ Far stretch'd beneath the many-tinted hills
+ A mighty waste of mist the valley fills, 495
+ A solemn sea! whose vales and mountains round
+ Stand motionless, to awful silence bound.
+ A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide
+ And bottomless, divides the midway tide.
+ Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear 500
+ The pines that near the coast their summits rear;
+ Of cabins, woods, and lawns a pleasant shore
+ Bounds calm and clear the chaos still and hoar;
+ Loud thro' that midway gulf ascending, sound
+ Unnumber'd streams with hollow roar profound. 505
+ Mounts thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds,
+ And talking voices, and the low of herds,
+ The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell,
+ And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell.
+ Think not, suspended from the cliff on high 510
+ He looks below with undelighted eye.
+ --No vulgar joy is his, at even tide
+ Stretch'd on the scented mountain's purple side.
+ For as the pleasures of his simple day
+ Beyond his native valley hardly stray, 515
+ Nought round it's darling precincts can he find
+ But brings some past enjoyment to his mind,
+ While Hope that ceaseless leans on Pleasure's urn
+ Binds her wild wreathes, and whispers his return.
+
+ Once Man entirely free, alone and wild, 520
+ Was bless'd as free--for he was Nature's child.
+ He, all superior but his God disdain'd,
+ Walk'd none restraining, and by none restrain'd,
+ Confess'd no law but what his reason taught,
+ Did all he wish'd, and wish'd but what he ought. 525
+ As Man in his primaeval dower array'd
+ The image of his glorious sire display'd,
+ Ev'n so, by vestal Nature guarded, here
+ The traces of primaeval Man appear.
+ The native dignity no forms debase, 530
+ The eye sublime, and surly lion-grace.
+ The slave of none, of beasts alone the lord,
+ He marches with his flute, his book, and sword,
+ Well taught by that to feel his rights, prepar'd
+ With this "the blessings he enjoys to guard." 535
+
+ And as on glorious ground he draws his breath,
+ Where Freedom oft, with Victory and Death,
+ Hath seen in grim array amid their Storms
+ Mix'd with auxiliar Rocks, three [X] hundred Forms;
+ While twice ten thousand corselets at the view 540
+ Dropp'd loud at once, Oppression shriek'd, and flew.
+ Oft as those sainted Rocks before him spread,
+ An unknown power connects him with the dead.
+ For images of other worlds are there,
+ Awful the light, and holy is the air. 545
+ Uncertain thro' his fierce uncultur'd soul
+ Like lighted tempests troubled transports roll;
+ To viewless realms his Spirit towers amain,
+ Beyond the senses and their little reign.
+
+ And oft, when pass'd that solemn vision by, 550
+ He holds with God himself communion high,
+ When the dread peal of swelling torrents fills
+ The sky-roof'd temple of th' eternal hills,
+ And savage Nature humbly joins the rite,
+ While flash her upward eyes severe delight. 555
+ Or gazing from the mountain's silent brow,
+ Bright stars of ice and azure worlds of snow,
+ Where needle peaks of granite shooting bare
+ Tremble in ever-varying tints of air,
+ Great joy by horror tam'd dilates his heart, 560
+ And the near heav'ns their own delights impart.
+ --When the Sun bids the gorgeous scene farewell,
+ Alps overlooking Alps their state upswell;
+ Huge Pikes of Darkness nam'd, of [Y] Fear and Storms
+ Lift, all serene, their still, illumin'd forms, 565
+ In sea-like reach of prospect round him spread,
+ Ting'd like an angel's smile all rosy red.
+
+ When downward to his winter hut he goes,
+ Dear and more dear the lessening circle grows,
+ That hut which from the hills his eyes employs 570
+ So oft, the central point of all his joys.
+ And as a swift by tender cares oppress'd
+ Peeps often ere she dart into her nest,
+ So to th' untrodden floor, where round him looks
+ His father helpless as the babe he rocks, 575
+ Oft he descends to nurse the brother pair,
+ Till storm and driving ice blockade him there;
+ There hears, protected by the woods behind,
+ Secure, the chiding of the baffled wind,
+ Hears Winter, calling all his Terrors round, 580
+ Rush down the living rocks with whirlwind sound.
+
+ Thro' Nature's vale his homely pleasures glide
+ Unstain'd by envy, discontent, and pride,
+ The bound of all his vanity to deck
+ With one bright bell a favourite heifer's neck; 585
+ Content upon some simple annual feast,
+ Remember'd half the year, and hop'd the rest,
+ If dairy produce, from his inner hoard,
+ Of thrice ten summers consecrate the board.
+ --Alas! in every clime a flying ray 590
+ Is all we have to chear our wintry way,
+ Condemn'd, in mists and tempests ever rife,
+ To pant slow up the endless Alp of life.
+ "Here," cried a swain, whose venerable head
+ Bloom'd with the snow-drops of Man's narrow bed, 595
+ Last night, while by his dying fire, as clos'd
+ The day, in luxury my limbs repos'd,
+ "Here Penury oft from misery's mount will guide
+ Ev'n to the summer door his icy tide,
+ And here the avalanche of Death destroy 600
+ The little cottage of domestic Joy.
+ But, ah! th' unwilling mind may more than trace
+ The general sorrows of the human race:
+ The churlish gales, that unremitting blow
+ Cold from necessity's continual snow, 605
+ To us the gentle groups of bliss deny
+ That on the noon-day bank of leisure lie.
+ Yet more; the tyrant Genius, still at strife
+ With all the tender Charities of life,
+ When close and closer they begin to strain, 610
+ No fond hand left to staunch th' unclosing vein,
+ Tearing their bleeding ties leaves Age to groan
+ On his wet bed, abandon'd and alone.
+ For ever, fast as they of strength become
+ To pay the filial debt, for food to roam, 615
+ The father, forc'd by Powers that only deign
+ That solitary Man disturb their reign,
+ From his bare nest amid the storms of heaven
+ Drives, eagle-like, his sons as he was driven,
+ His last dread pleasure! watches to the plain-- 620
+ And never, eagle-like, beholds again." [Z]
+
+ When the poor heart has all its joys resign'd,
+ Why does their sad remembrance cleave behind?
+ Lo! by the lazy Seine the exile roves,
+ Or where thick sails illume Batavia's groves; 625
+ Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell,
+ Unlocking bleeding Thought's "memorial cell";
+ At once upon his heart Despair has set
+ Her seal, the mortal tear his cheek has wet;
+ Strong poison not a form of steel can brave 630
+ Bows his young hairs with sorrow to the grave.
+ Gay lark of hope thy silent song resume!
+ Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume!
+ Soft gales and dews of life's delicious morn,
+ And thou, lost fragrance of the heart return! 635
+ [Aa] Soon flies the little joy to man allow'd,
+ And tears before him travel like a cloud.
+ For come Diseases on, and Penury's rage,
+ Labour, and Pain, and Grief, and joyless Age,
+ And Conscience dogging close his bleeding way 640
+ Cries out, and leads her Spectres to their prey,
+ 'Till Hope-deserted, long in vain his breath
+ Implores the dreadful untried sleep of Death.
+ --Mid savage rocks and seas of snow that shine
+ Between interminable tracts of pine, 645
+ Round a lone fane the human Genii mourn,
+ Where fierce the rays of woe collected burn.
+ --From viewless lamps a ghastly dimness falls,
+ And ebbs uncertain on the troubled walls,
+ Dim dreadful faces thro' the gloom appear, 650
+ Abortive Joy, and Hope that works in fear,
+ While strives a secret Power to hush the crowd,
+ Pain's wild rebellious burst proclaims her rights aloud.
+ Oh give not me that eye of hard disdain
+ That views undimm'd Einsiedlen's [Bb] wretched fane. 655
+ Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torment meet,
+ Dire clap of hands, distracted chafe of feet,
+ While loud and dull ascends the weeping cry,
+ Surely in other thoughts contempt may die.
+ If the sad grave of human ignorance bear 660
+ One flower of hope--Oh pass and leave it there.
+
+ --The tall Sun, tiptoe on an Alpine spire,
+ Flings o'er the desert blood-red streams of fire.
+ At such an hour there are who love to stray,
+ And meet the gladdening pilgrims on their way. 665
+ --Now with joy's tearful kiss each other greet,
+ Nor longer naked be your way-worn feet,
+ For ye have reach'd at last that happy shore,
+ Where the charm'd worm of pain shall gnaw no more.
+ How gayly murmur and how sweetly taste 670
+ The [Cc] fountains rear'd for you amid the waste!
+ Yes I will see you when ye first behold
+ Those turrets tipp'd by hope with morning gold,
+ And watch, while on your brows the cross ye make,
+ Round your pale eyes a wintry lustre wake. 675
+ --Without one hope her written griefs to blot,
+ Save in the land where all things are forgot,
+ My heart, alive to transports long unknown,
+ Half wishes your delusion were it's own.
+
+ Last let us turn to where Chamouny [Dd] shields, 680
+ Bosom'd in gloomy woods, her golden fields,
+ Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,
+ And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend,
+ A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns
+ Of purple lights and ever vernal plains. 685
+ Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fann'd,
+ Here all the Seasons revel hand in hand,
+ --Red stream the cottage lights; the landscape fades,
+ Erroneous wavering mid the twilight shades.
+ Alone ascends that mountain nam'd of white, [Ee] 690
+ That dallies with the Sun the summer night.
+ Six thousand years amid his lonely bounds
+ The voice of Ruin, day and night, resounds.
+ Where Horror-led his sea of ice assails,
+ Havoc and Chaos blast a thousand vales, 695
+ In waves, like two enormous serpents, wind
+ And drag their length of deluge train behind.
+ Between the pines enormous boughs descry'd
+ Serene he towers, in deepest purple dy'd;
+ Glad Day-light laughs upon his top of snow, 700
+ Glitter the stars above, and all is black below.
+
+ At such an hour I heav'd the human sigh,
+ When roar'd the sullen Arve in anger by,
+ That not for thee, delicious vale! unfold
+ Thy reddening orchards, and thy fields of gold; 705
+ That thou, the [Ff] slave of slaves, art doom'd to pine,
+ While no Italian arts their charms combine
+ To teach the skirt of thy dark cloud to shine;
+ For thy poor babes that, hurrying from the door,
+ With pale-blue hands, and eyes that fix'd implore, 710
+ Dead muttering lips, and hair of hungry white,
+ Besiege the traveller whom they half affright.
+ --Yes, were it mine, the cottage meal to share
+ Forc'd from my native mountains bleak and bare;
+ O'er [Gg] Anet's hopeless seas of marsh to stray, 715
+ Her shrill winds roaring round my lonely way;
+ To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose,
+ And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;
+ In the wide range of many a weary round,
+ Still have my pilgrim feet unfailing found, 720
+ As despot courts their blaze of gems display,
+ Ev'n by the secret cottage far away
+ The lilly of domestic joy decay;
+ While Freedom's farthest hamlets blessings share,
+ Found still beneath her smile, and only there. 725
+ The casement shade more luscious woodbine binds,
+ And to the door a neater pathway winds,
+ At early morn the careful housewife, led
+ To cull her dinner from it's garden bed,
+ Of weedless herbs a healthier prospect sees, 730
+ While hum with busier joy her happy bees;
+ In brighter rows her table wealth aspires,
+ And laugh with merrier blaze her evening fires;
+ Her infant's cheeks with fresher roses glow,
+ And wilder graces sport around their brow; 735
+ By clearer taper lit a cleanlier board
+ Receives at supper hour her tempting hoard;
+ The chamber hearth with fresher boughs is spread,
+ And whiter is the hospitable bed.
+
+ --And thou! fair favoured region! which my soul 740
+ Shall love, till Life has broke her golden bowl,
+ Till Death's cold touch her cistern-wheel assail,
+ And vain regret and vain desire shall fail;
+ Tho' now, where erst the grey-clad peasant stray'd,
+ To break the quiet of the village shade 745
+ Gleam war's [Hh] discordant habits thro' the trees,
+ And the red banner mock the sullen breeze;
+ Tho' now no more thy maids their voices suit
+ To the low-warbled breath of twilight lute,
+ And heard, the pausing village hum between, 750
+ No solemn songstress lull the fading green,
+ Scared by the fife, and rumbling drum's alarms,
+ And the short thunder, and the flash of arms;
+ While, as Night bids the startling uproar die,
+ Sole sound, the [Ii] sourd renews his mournful cry: 755
+ --Yet, hast thou found that Freedom spreads her pow'r
+ Beyond the cottage hearth, the cottage door:
+ All nature smiles; and owns beneath her eyes
+ Her fields peculiar, and peculiar skies.
+ Yes, as I roam'd where Loiret's [Jj] waters glide 760
+ Thro' rustling aspins heard from side to side,
+ When from October clouds a milder light
+ Fell, where the blue flood rippled into white,
+ Methought from every cot the watchful bird
+ Crowed with ear-piercing power 'till then unheard; 765
+ Each clacking mill, that broke the murmuring streams,
+ Rock'd the charm'd thought in more delightful dreams;
+ Chasing those long long dreams the falling leaf
+ Awoke a fainter pang of moral grief;
+ The measured echo of the distant flail 770
+ Winded in sweeter cadence down the vale;
+ A more majestic tide the [Kk] water roll'd,
+ And glowed the sun-gilt groves in richer gold:
+
+ --Tho' Liberty shall soon, indignant, raise
+ Red on his hills his beacon's comet blaze; 775
+ Bid from on high his lonely cannon sound,
+ And on ten thousand hearths his shout rebound;
+ His larum-bell from village-tow'r to tow'r
+ Swing on th' astounded ear it's dull undying roar:
+ Yet, yet rejoice, tho' Pride's perverted ire 780
+ Rouze Hell's own aid, and wrap thy hills in fire.
+ Lo! from th' innocuous flames, a lovely birth!
+ With it's own Virtues springs another earth:
+ Nature, as in her prime, her virgin reign
+ Begins, and Love and Truth compose her train; 785
+ With pulseless hand, and fix'd unwearied gaze,
+ Unbreathing Justice her still beam surveys:
+ No more, along thy vales and viny groves,
+ Whole hamlets disappearing as he moves,
+ With cheeks o'erspread by smiles of baleful glow, 790
+ On his pale horse shall fell Consumption go.
+
+ Oh give, great God, to Freedom's waves to ride
+ Sublime o'er Conquest, Avarice, and Pride,
+ To break, the vales where Death with Famine scow'rs,
+ And dark Oppression builds her thick-ribb'd tow'rs; 795
+ Where Machination her fell soul resigns,
+ Fled panting to the centre of her mines;
+ Where Persecution decks with ghastly smiles
+ Her bed, his mountains mad Ambition piles;
+ Where Discord stalks dilating, every hour, 800
+ And crouching fearful at the feet of Pow'r,
+ Like Lightnings eager for th' almighty word,
+ Look up for sign of havoc, Fire, and Sword; [Ll]
+ --Give them, beneath their breast while Gladness springs,
+ To brood the nations o'er with Nile-like wings; 805
+ And grant that every sceptred child of clay,
+ Who cries, presumptuous, "here their tides shall stay,"
+ Swept in their anger from th' affrighted shore,
+ With all his creatures sink--to rise no more.
+ To-night, my friend, within this humble cot 810
+ Be the dead load of mortal ills forgot,
+ Renewing, when the rosy summits glow
+ At morn, our various journey, sad and slow.
+
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
+
+[Footnote A: All the notes to this reprint of the edition of 1793 are
+Wordsworth's own, as given in that edition.--Ed.]
+
+
+[Footnote B: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote C: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote D: Alluding to crosses seen on the tops of the spiry rocks of
+the Chartreuse, which have every appearance of being inaccessible.]
+
+
+[Footnote E: Names of rivers at the Chartreuse.]
+
+
+[Footnote F: Name of one of the vallies of the Chartreuse.]
+
+
+[Footnote G: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote H:
+
+ Solo, e pensoso i piu deserti campi
+ Vo misurando a passi tardi, e lenti.
+'Petrarch'.]
+
+
+[Footnote I: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote J: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote K:
+
+ "Red came the river down, and loud, and oft
+ The angry Spirit of the water shriek'd."
+
+HOME'S 'Douglas'.]
+
+
+[Footnote L: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote M: Crosses commemorative of the deaths of travellers by the
+fall of snow and other accidents very common along this dreadful road.]
+
+
+[Footnote N: The houses in the more retired Swiss valleys are all built
+of wood.]
+
+
+[Footnote O: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote P: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Q: 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 'Tour in Switzerland'.]
+
+
+[Footnote R: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote S: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote T: These summer hamlets are most probably (as I have seen
+observed by a critic in the 'Gentleman's Magazine') what Virgil alludes
+to in the expression "Castella in tumulis."]
+
+
+[Footnote U: Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind
+through the trees.]
+
+
+[Footnote V: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote W: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote X: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Y: As Schreck-Horn, the pike of terror. Wetter-Horn, the pike
+of storms, etc. etc.]
+
+
+[Footnote Z: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Aa: Optima quaeque dies, etc.]
+
+
+[Footnote Bb: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Cc: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Dd: This word is pronounced upon the spot Chamouny, I have
+taken the liberty of reading it long thinking it more musical.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ee: It is only from the higher part of the valley of Chamouny
+that Mont Blanc is visible.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ff: It is scarce necessary to observe that these lines were
+written before the emancipation of Savoy.]
+
+
+[Footnote Gg: A vast extent of marsh so called near the lake of
+Neuf-chatel.]
+
+
+[Footnote Hh: This, as may be supposed, was written before France became
+the seat of war.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ii: An insect so called, which emits a short, melancholy cry,
+heard, at the close of the summer evenings, on the banks of the Loire.]
+
+
+[Footnote Jj: 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 Abbe 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Kk: 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.]
+
+
+[Footnote Ll:
+
+ --And, at his heels,
+ Leash'd in like hounds, should Famine, Sword, and Fire,
+ Crouch for employment.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX II
+
+The following is Wordsworth's Itinerary of the Tour, taken by him and
+his friend Jones, which gave rise to 'Descriptive Sketches'.
+
+
+July
+13. Calais.
+14. Ardres.
+17. Peronne.
+18. Village near Coucy.
+19. Soissons.
+20. Chateau Thierry.
+21. Sezanne.
+22. Village near Troyes.
+23. Bar-le-Duc.
+24. Chatillon-sur-Seine.
+26. Nuits.
+27. Chalons.
+28. Chalons.
+29. On the Saone.
+30. Lyons.
+31. Condrieu.
+
+August
+ 1. Moreau.
+ 2. Voreppe.
+ 3. Village near Chartreuse.
+ 4. Chartreuse.
+ 6. Aix.
+ 7. Town in Savoy.
+ 8. Town on Lake of Geneva.
+ 9. Lausanne.
+10. Villeneuve.
+11. St. Maurice in the Valais.
+12. Chamouny.
+13. Chamouny.
+14. Martigny.
+15. Village beyond Sion.
+16. Brieg.
+17. Spital on Alps.
+18. Margozza.
+19. Village beyond Lago Maggiore.
+20. Village on Lago di Como.
+21. Village beyond Gravedona.
+22. Jones at Chiavenna; W. W. at Samolaco.
+23. Sovozza.
+24. Spluegen.
+25. Flems.
+26. Dissentis.
+27. Village on the Reuss.
+28. Fluelen.
+29. Lucerne.
+30. Village on the Lake of Zurich.
+31. Einsiedlen.
+
+
+September
+
+1. Glarus.
+2. Glarus.
+3. Village beyond Lake of Wallenstadt.
+4. Village on road to Appenzell.
+5. Appenzell.
+6. Keswill, on Lake of Constance.
+7. On the Rhine.
+8. On the Rhine.
+9. On road to Lucerne.
+10. Lucerne.
+11. Saxeln.
+12. Village on the Aar.
+13. Grindelwald.
+14. Lauterbrunnen.
+15. Village three leagues from Berne.
+16. Avranches.
+19. Village beyond Pierre Pertuises.
+20. Village four leagues from Basle.
+21. Basle.
+22. Town six leagues from Strasburg.
+23. Spires.
+24. Village on Rhine.
+25. Mentz. Mayence.
+27. Village on Rhine, two leagues from Coblentz.
+28. Cologne.
+29. Village three leagues from Aix-la-Chapelle.
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX III
+
+The following two variants in 'Descriptive Sketches' are from MS. notes
+written in the late Lord Coleridge's copy of the edition of 1836-7.
+
+l. 247.
+
+ Yet the world's business hither finds its way
+ At times, and unsought tales beguile the day,
+ And tender thoughts are those which Solitude
+
+
+l. 249.
+
+ Yet tender thoughts dwell there. No Solitude
+ Hath power Youth's natural feelings to exclude.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX IV
+
+'Anecdote for Fathers'
+
+See Eusebius' 'Praeparatio Evangelica', vi. 5.--[Greek: kleie bi_en
+kartos te log_on pseud_egora lex_o]--which was Apollo's answer to
+certain persons who tried to force his oracle to reply.--Ed.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX V
+
+'The Thorn'
+
+William Taylor's translation of Buerger's 'Pfarrer's Tochter' appeared in
+'The Monthly Magazine' (1796), and as the same volume contained
+contributions by Coleridge and Lamb, it is possible that Wordsworth saw
+it. Buerger's Pastor's Daughter murdered her natural child, but it is her
+ghost which haunts its grave, which she had torn
+
+ With bleeding nails beside the pond,
+ And nightly pines the pool beside.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX VI
+
+'Simon Lee'
+
+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.
+
+
+ In the sweet shire of Cardigan,
+ Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall,
+ An old man dwells, a little man,
+ I've heard he once was tall.
+ Of years he has upon his back,
+ No doubt, a burthen weighty;
+ He says he is three score and ten,
+ But others say he's eighty.
+
+ A long blue livery-coat has he,
+ That's fair behind, and fair before;
+ Yet, meet him where you will, you see
+ At once that he is poor.
+ Full five and twenty years he lived
+ A running huntsman merry;
+ And, though he has but one eye left,
+ His cheek is like a cherry.
+
+ No man like him the horn could sound,
+ And no man was so full of glee;
+ To say the least, four counties round
+ Had heard of Simon Lee;
+ His master's dead, and no one now
+ Dwells in the hall of Ivor;
+ Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;
+ He is the sole survivor.
+
+ His hunting feats have him bereft
+ Of his right eye, as you may see:
+ And then, what limbs those feats have left
+ To poor old Simon Lee!
+ He has no son, he has no child,
+ His wife, an aged woman,
+ Lives with him, near the waterfall,
+ Upon the village common.
+
+ And he is lean and he is sick,
+ His little body's half awry
+ His ancles they are swoln and thick;
+ His legs are thin and dry.
+ When he was young he little knew
+ Of husbandry or tillage;
+ And now he's forced to work, though weak,
+ --The weakest in the village.
+
+ He all the country could outrun,
+ Could leave both man and horse behind;
+ And often, ere the race was done,
+ He reeled and was stone-blind.
+ And still there's something in the world
+ At which his heart rejoices;
+ For when the chiming hounds are out,
+ He dearly loves their voices!
+
+ Old Ruth works out of doors with him,
+ And does what Simon cannot do;
+ For she, not over stout of limb,
+ Is stouter of the two.
+ And though you with your utmost skill
+ From labour could not wean them,
+ Alas! 'tis very little, all
+ Which they can do between them.
+
+ Beside their moss-grown hut of clay,
+ Not twenty paces from the door,
+ A scrap of land they have, but they
+ Are poorest of the poor.
+ This scrap of land he from the heath
+ Enclosed when he was stronger;
+ But what avails the land to them,
+ Which they can till no longer?
+
+
+
+Editions Editions Edition Edition Editions
+1798 and 1800. 1802-1815. 1820. 1827. 1832-1849.
+
+ 1 1 1 a 1 a 1 a
+ 2 b 2 b 2 b
+
+ 2 2 3 4 a 3 a
+ 3 b 5 b
+
+ 3 3 4 a 3 a 6
+ 5 b 5 b
+
+ 4 6 6 6 4 a
+ 3 b
+
+ 5 4 5 a 5 a 5 a
+ 4 b 4 b 4 b
+
+ 6 5 7 8 8
+
+ 7 7 8 7 7
+
+ 8 8 9 9 9
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX VII
+
+'Lines written in Early Spring', ll. 11, 12
+
+Compare the 'Laws of Manu', i. 49:
+
+ "Vegetables, as well as animals, have internal consciousness, and are
+ sensible of pleasure and pain."
+
+This I have received from a correspondent, but I have never seen the
+English version.--Ed.
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX VIII
+
+'An Evening Walk'
+
+
+(1) l. 219,
+
+ "His neck, a varying arch, between his towering wings."
+
+Compare 'Paradise Lost', book vii. l. 438.
+
+
+(2) l. 286, in the footnote reading of 1793, the line occurs
+
+ "Or clock, that blind against the wanderer borne."
+
+This refers to the winged beetle, the buzzard-clock.
+
+
+(3) l. 323, "The bird, etc." The owl. Compare Cowper's 'Task', i. ll.
+205, 206.
+
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poetical Works of William
+Wordsworth, Edited by William Knight
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