A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe,
And ever-drizling raine upon the loft,
Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne
Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne. ED.
TO THE MEMORY OF RAISLEY CALVERT
Composed 1806.--Published 1807
[This young man, Raisley Calvert, to whom I was so much indebted, died
at Penrith, 1795.--I. F.]
Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
Calvert! it must not be unheard by them
Who may respect my name, that I to thee
Owed many years of early liberty.
This care was thine when sickness did condemn
Thy youth to hopeless wasting, root and stem-- 5
That I, if frugal and severe, might stray
Where'er I liked; and finally array
My temples with the Muse's diadem.
Hence, if in freedom I have loved the truth;
If there be aught of pure, or good, or great, 10
In my past verse; or shall be, in the lays
Of higher mood, which now I meditate;--
It gladdens me, O worthy, short-lived, Youth!
To think how much of this will be thy praise.
Raisley Calvert was the son of R. Calvert, steward to the Duke of
Norfolk. Writing to Sir George Beaumont, on the 20th February 1805,
Wordsworth said, "I should have been forced into one of the professions"
(the church or law) "by necessity, had not a friend left me L900. This
bequest was from a young man with whom, though I call him friend, I had
but little connection; and the act was done entirely from a confidence
on his part that I had powers and attainments which might be of use to
mankind.... Upon the interest of the L900, and L100 legacy to my sister,
and L100 more which the 'Lyrical Ballads' have brought me, my sister and
I contrived to live seven years, nearly eight." To his friend Matthews
he wrote, November 7th, 1794, "My friend" (Calvert) "has every symptom
of a confirmed consumption, and I cannot think of quitting him in his
present debilitated state." And in January 1795 he wrote to Matthews
from Penrith (where Calvert was staying), "I have been here for some
time. I am still much engaged with my sick friend; and am sorry to add
that he worsens daily ... he is barely alive." In a letter to Dr. Joshua
Stanger of Keswick, written in the year 1842, Wordsworth referred thus
to Raisley Calvert. Dr. Calvert--a nephew of Raisley, and son of the W.
Calvert whom the poet accompanied to the Isle of Wight and Salisbury in
1793--had just died. "His removal (Dr. Calvert's) has naturally thrown
my mind back as far as Dr. Calvert's grandfather, his father, and sister
(the former of whom was, as you know, among my intimate friends), and
his uncle Raisley, whom I have so much cause to remember with gratitude
for his testamentary remembrance of me, when the greatest part of my
patrimony was kept back from us by injustice. It may be satisfactory to
your wife for me to declare that my friend's bequest enabled me to
devote myself to literary pursuits, independent of any necessity to look
at pecuniary emolument, so that my talents, such as they might be, were
free to take their natural course. Your brothers Raisley and William
were both so well known to me, and I have so many reasons to respect
them, that I cannot forbear saying, that my sympathy with this last
bereavement is deepened by the remembrance that they both have been
taken from you...." On October 1, 1794, Wordsworth wrote from Keswick to
Ensign William Calvert about his brother Raisley. (The year is not given
in the letter, but it must have been 1794.) He tells him that Raisley
was determined to set out for Lisbon; but that he (Wordsworth) could not
brook the idea of his going alone; and that he wished to accompany his
friend and stay with him, till his health was re-established. He adds,
"Reflecting that his return is uncertain, your brother requests me to
inform you that he has drawn out his will, which he means to get
executed in London. The purport of his will is to leave you all his
property, real and personal, chargeable with a legacy of L600 to me, in
case that, on inquiry into the state of our affairs in London, he should
think it advisable to do so. It is at my request that this information
is communicated to you." Calvert did not live to go south; and he
changed the sum left to Wordsworth from L600 to L900. The relationship
of the two men suggests the somewhat parallel one between Spinoza and
Simon de Vries.--ED.
"METHOUGHT I SAW THE FOOTSTEPS OF A THRONE"
Composed 1806.--Published 1807
[The latter part of this sonnet was a great favourite with my sister S.
H. When I saw her lying in death, I could not resist the impulse to
compose the Sonnet that follows it.--I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
Methought I saw the footsteps of a throne
Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud--
Nor view of who might sit[1] thereon allowed;
But all the steps and ground about were strown
With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone 5
Ever put on; a miserable crowd,
Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud,
"Thou art our king, O Death! to thee we groan."
Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave[2]
Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one 10
Sleeping alone within a mossy cave,
With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have
Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone;
A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!
"The Sonnet that follows," referred to in the Fenwick note, is one
belonging to the year 1836, beginning--
Even so for me a Vision sanctified.
See the note to that sonnet.--ED.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1815.
... of him who sate ... 1807.
[2] 1845.
I seem'd to mount those steps; the vapours gave 1807.
Those steps I mounted, as the vapours gave 1837.
... while the vapours gave 1838.
Those steps I clomb; the opening vapours gave
C. and 1840.
LINES
Composed at Grasmere, during a walk one Evening, after a stormy day,
the Author having just read in a Newspaper that the dissolution of
Mr. Fox was hourly expected.
Composed September 1806.--Published 1807
This poem was ranked among the "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces."--ED.
Loud is the Vale! the Voice is up
With which she speaks when storms are gone,
A mighty unison of streams!
Of all her Voices, One!
Loud is the Vale;--this inland Depth 5
In peace is roaring like the Sea;
Yon star upon the mountain-top
Is listening quietly.
Sad was I, even to pain deprest,
Importunate and heavy load![A] 10
The Comforter hath found me here,
Upon this lonely road;
And many thousands now are sad--
Wait the fulfilment of their fear;
For he must die who is their stay, 15
Their glory disappear.
A Power is passing from the earth
To breathless Nature's dark abyss;
But when the great and good depart[1]
What is it more than this-- 20
That Man, who is from God sent forth,
Doth yet again to God return?--
Such ebb and flow must ever be,
Then wherefore should we mourn?
Charles James Fox died September 13, 1806. He was Minister for Foreign
Affairs at the time, having assumed office on the 5th February, shortly
after the death of William Pitt. Wordsworth's sadness on this occasion,
his recognition of Fox as great and good, and as "a Power" that was
"passing from the earth," may have been due partly to personal and
political sympathy, but also probably to Fox's appreciation of the
better side of the French Revolution, and to his welcoming the pacific
proposals of Talleyrand, perhaps also to his efforts for the abolition
of slavery.
The "lonely road" referred to in these _Lines_, was, in all likelihood,
the path from Town-end towards the Swan Inn past the Hollins, Grasmere.
A "mighty unison of streams" may be heard there any autumn evening after
a stormy day, and especially after long continued rain, the sound of
waters from Easdale, from Greenhead Ghyll, and the slopes of Silver How,
blending with that of the Rothay in the valley below. Compare Dorothy
Wordsworth's _Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland_, in 1803, p. 229
(edition 1874).--ED.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
But when the Mighty pass away 1807.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Importuna e grave salma. (Michael Angelo.)--W. W. 1807.
NOVEMBER, 1806
Composed 1806.--Published 1807
Classed among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty," re-named in 1845,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--ED.
Another year!--another deadly blow!
Another mighty Empire overthrown!
And We are left, or shall be left, alone;
The last that dare[1] to struggle with the Foe.
'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know 5
That in ourselves our safety must be sought;
That by our own right hands it must be wrought;
That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.
O dastard whom such foretaste[2] doth not cheer!
We shall exult, if they who rule the land 10
Be men who hold its many blessings dear,
Wise, upright, valiant; not a servile[3] band,
Who are to judge of danger which they fear,
And honour which they do not understand.[A]
Napoleon won the battle of Jena on the 14th October 1806, entered
Potsdam on the 25th, and Berlin on the 28th; Prince Hohenlohe laid down
his arms on the 6th November; Bluecher surrendered at Luebeck on the 7th;
Magdeburg was taken on the 8th; on the 14th the French occupied Hanover;
and on the 21st Napoleon issued his Berlin decree for the blockade of
England--ED.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1827.
... dares ... 1807.
[2] 1807.
... knowledge ... MS.
[3] 1820.
... venal ... 1807.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Who are to judge of danger which they fear
And honour which they do not understand.
These two lines from Lord Brooke's _Life of Sir Philip Sydney_--W. W.
1807.
"Danger which they fear, and honour which they understand not." Words in
Lord Brooke's _Life of Sir P. Sidney_.--W. W. 1837.
ADDRESS TO A CHILD
DURING A BOISTEROUS WINTER EVENING
BY MY SISTER
Composed 1806.--Published 1815
[Written at Town-end, Grasmere.--I. F.]
One of the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--ED.
What way does the Wind come? What way does he go?
He rides over the water, and over the snow,
Through wood, and through vale; and, o'er rocky height
Which the goat cannot climb, takes his sounding flight;
He tosses about in every bare tree, 5
As, if you look up, you plainly may see;
But how he will come, and whither he goes,
There's never a scholar in England knows.
He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook,
And ring[1] a sharp 'larum;--but, if you should look, 10
There's nothing to see but a cushion of snow
Round as a pillow, and whiter than milk,
And softer than if it were covered with silk.
Sometimes he'll hide in the cave of a rock,
Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard cock; 15
--Yet seek him,--and what shall you find in the place?
Nothing but silence and empty space;
Save, in a corner, a heap of dry leaves,
That he's left, for a bed, to[2] beggars or thieves!
As soon as 'tis daylight to-morrow, with me 20
You shall go to the orchard, and then you will see
That he has been there, and made a great rout,
And cracked the branches, and strewn them about;
Heaven grant that he spare but that one upright twig
That looked up at the sky so proud and big 25
All last summer, as well you know,
Studded with apples, a beautiful show!
Hark! over the roof he makes a pause,
And growls as if he would fix his claws
Right in the slates, and with a huge rattle 30
Drive them down, like men in a battle:
--But let him range round; he does us no harm,
We build up the fire, we're snug and warm;
Untouched by his breath see the candle shines bright,
And burns with a clear and steady light; 35
Books have we to read,--but that half-stifled knell,
Alas! tis the sound[3] of the eight o'clock bell.
--Come now we'll to bed! and when we are there
He may work his own will, and what shall we care?
He may knock at the door,--we'll not let him in; 40
May drive at the windows,--we'll laugh at his din;
Let him seek his own home wherever it be;
Here's a _cozie_ warm house for Edward and me.
Wordsworth dated this poem 1806, and said to Miss Fenwick that it was
written at Grasmere. If it was written "during a boisterous winter
evening" in 1806, it could not have been written at Grasmere; because
the Wordsworths spent most of that winter at Coleorton. I am inclined to
believe that the date which the poet gave is wrong, and that the
_Address_ really belongs to the year 1805; but, as it is just possible
that--although referring to winter--it may have been written at Town-end
in the summer of 1806, it is placed among the poems belonging to the
latter year.
This _Address_ was translated into French by Mme. Amable Tastu, and
published in a popular school-book series of extracts, but Wordsworth's
name is not given along with the translation.
From 1815 to 1843 the authorship was veiled under the title, "by a
female Friend of the Author." In 1845, it was disclosed, "by my Sister."
In 1815 Charles Lamb wrote to Wordsworth, "We were glad to see the poems
'by a female friend.' The one of the Wind is masterly, but not new to
us. Being only three, perhaps you might have clapt a D. at the corner,
and let it have past as a printer's mark to the uninitiated, as a
delightful hint to the better instructed. As it is, expect a formal
criticism on the poems of your female friend, and she must expect it."
(_The Letters of Charles Lamb_, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p.
285.)--ED.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1845.
... rings ... 1815.
[2] 1827.
... for ... 1815.
[3] 1827.
... --hush! that half-stifled knell,
Methinks 'tis the sound ... 1815.
"BROOK! WHOSE SOCIETY THE POET SEEKS"
Composed 1806?--Published 1815
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
Brook! whose society the Poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew;
And whom the curious Painter doth pursue
Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks,
And tracks thee dancing down thy water-breaks; 5
If wish were mine some type of thee to view,[1]
Thee, and not thee thyself, I would not do
Like Grecian Artists, give thee human cheeks,
Channels for tears; no Naiad should'st thou be,--
Have neither limbs, feet, feathers, joints nor hairs: 10
It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee
With purer robes than those of flesh and blood,
And hath bestowed on thee a safer good;[2]
Unwearied joy, and life without its cares.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1827.
If I some type of thee did wish to view, 1815.
[2] 1845.
... a better good; 1815.
"THERE IS A LITTLE UNPRETENDING RILL"
Composed 1806?--Published 1820
[This Rill trickles down the hill-side into Windermere, near Low-wood.
My sister and I, on our first visit together to this part of the
country, walked from Kendal, and we rested to refresh ourselves by the
side of the lake where the streamlet falls into it. This sonnet was
written some years after in recollection of that happy ramble, that most
happy day and hour.--I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
There is a little unpretending Rill
Of limpid water, humbler far than aught[1]
That ever among Men or Naiads sought
Notice or name!--It quivers down the hill,
Furrowing its shallow way with dubious will; 5
Yet to my mind this scanty Stream is brought[2]
Oftener than Ganges or the Nile; a thought
Of private recollection sweet and still![3]
Months perish with their moons; year treads on year;
But, faithful Emma! thou with me canst say 10
That, while ten thousand pleasures disappear,
And flies their memory fast almost as they,[4]
The immortal Spirit of one happy day
Lingers beside that Rill,[5] in vision clear.[6]
One of the MS. readings of the ninth line of this sonnet gives the date
of the incident as "now seven years gone"; but I leave the date of
composition undetermined. If we could know accurately the date of the
"first visit" to the district with his sister (referred to in the
Fenwick note), and if we could implicitly trust this MS. reading, it
might be possible to fix it; but we can do neither. Wordsworth visited
the Lake District with his sister as early as 1794, and in December 1799
he took up his abode with her at Dove Cottage. I have no doubt that the
sonnet belongs to the year 1806, or was composed at an earlier date. As
to the locality of the rill, the late Rev. R. Perceval Graves, of
Dublin, wrote to me:--
"It was in 1843, when quitting the parsonage at Bowness, I went to
reside at Dovenest, that, calling one day at Rydal Mount, I was
told by both Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, as a fact in which I should
take a special interest, that the 'little unpretending rill'
associated by the poet with 'the immortal spirit of one happy
day,' was the rill which, rising near High Skelgill at the back of
Wansfell, descends steeply down the hill-side, passes behind the
house at Dovenest, and crossing beneath the road, enters the lake
near the gate of the drive which leads up to Dovenest.
"The authority on which I give this information is decisive of the
question. I have often traced upwards the course of the rill; and
the secluded hollow, which by its source is beautified with fresh
herbage and wild straggling bushes, was a favourite haunt of
mine."--ED.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1820.
There is a tiny water, neither rill,
Motionless well, nor running brook, nor aught MS.
There is a noiseless water, neither rill,
Nor spring enclosed in sculptured stone, nor aught MS.
There is a trickling water, neither rill,
Fountain inclosed, or rivulet, nor aught MS. 1806.
[2] 1820.
... It trickles down the hill,
So feebly, just for love of power and will,
Yet to my mind the nameless thing is brought MS.
... It totters down the hill,
So feebly, quite forlorn of power and will;
Yet nameless Thing it to my mind is brought MS.
[3] 1827.
Oftener than mightiest Floods, whose path is wrought
Through wastes of sand, and forests dark and chill.
1820.
[4] 1827.
Do thou, even thou, O faithful Anna! say
Why this small Streamlet is to me so dear;
Thou know'st, that while enjoyments disappear
And sweet remembrances like flowers decay, 1820.
[5] 1827.
Lingers upon its marge, ... 1820.
[6] 1820.
For on that day, now seven years gone, when first
Two glad foot-travellers, through sun and shower
My Love and I came hither, while thanks burst
Out of our hearts ...
We from that blessed water slaked our thirst. MS.
... seven years back, ...
... hearts to God for that good hour,
Eating a traveller's meal in shady bower,
We ... MS.
1807
In few instances is it more evident that the dates which Wordsworth
affixed to his poems, in the editions of 1815, 1820, 1836, and
1845,--and those assigned in the Fenwick notes--cannot be absolutely
relied upon, than in the case of the poems referring to Coleorton.
Trusting to these dates, in the absence of contrary evidence, one would
naturally assign the majority of the Coleorton poems to the year 1808.
But it is clear that, while the sonnet _To Lady Beaumont_ may have been
written in 1806, the "Inscription" _For a Seat in the Groves of
Coleorton_, beginning--
Beneath yon eastern ridge, the craggy bound,
was written, not in 1808 (as stated by Wordsworth himself), but in 1811;
and that the other "Inscription" designed for a Niche in the
Winter-garden at Coleorton, belongs (I think) to the same year; a year
in which he also wrote the sonnet on Sir George Beaumont's picture of
Bredon Hill and Cloud Hill, beginning--
Praised be the Art whose subtle power could stay.
When the dates are so difficult to determine, there is a natural fitness
in bringing all the poems referring to Coleorton together, so far as
this can be done without seriously interfering with chronological order.
The two "Inscriptions" intended for the Coleorton grounds, which were
written at Grasmere in 1811, are therefore printed along with the poems
of 1807; the precise date of each being given--so far as it can be
ascertained--underneath its title.
Several political sonnets, and others, were written in 1807; also the
_Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle_, and the first and larger part of
_The White Doe of Rylstone_, with a few minor fragments. But, for
reasons stated in the notes to _The White Doe of Rylstone_ (see p.
191), I have assigned that poem to the year 1808. The _Song at the Feast
of Brougham Castle_ forms as natural a preface to _The White Doe_, as
_The Force of Prayer, a Tradition of Bolton Abbey_, is its natural
appendix. The latter was written, however, before _The White Doe of
Rylstone_ was finished.
It would be easier to fix the date of some of the poems written between
the years 1806 and 1808, if we knew the exact month in which the two
volumes of 1807 were published; but this, I fear, it is impossible to
discover now.
On November 10th, 1806, Wordsworth wrote to Sir George Beaumont from
Coleorton, "In a day or two I mean to send a sheet or two of my intended
volume to the press" (evidently referring to the "Poems" of 1807). On
the following day--11th November 1806--Dorothy Wordsworth wrote to Lady
Beaumont, "William has written two other poems, which you will see when
they are printed. He composes frequently in the grove.... We have not
yet received a sheet from the printer." On the 15th November 1806 she
again wrote to Lady Beaumont (from Coleorton), "My brother works very
hard at his poems, preparing them for the press. Miss Hutchinson is the
transcriber." In a subsequent letter from Coleorton, undated, but
bearing the post-mark February 18, 1807, she is speaking of her
brother's poetical labour, and says, "He must go on, when he begins: and
any interruptions (such as attending to the progress of the workmen and
planning the garden) are of the greatest use to him; for, after a
certain time, the progress is by no means proportioned to the labour in
composition; and if he is called from it by other thoughts, he returns
to it with ten times the pleasure, and the work goes on proportionately
the more rapidly." From this we may infer that the years 1806-7 were
productive ones, but it is disappointing that the dates of the
composition of the poems are so difficult to determine.--ED.
TO LADY BEAUMONT
Composed 1807.--Published 1807
[The winter garden of Coleorton, fashioned out of an old quarry, under
the superintendence and direction of Mrs. Wordsworth and my sister
Dorothy, during the winter and spring we resided there.--I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
Lady! the songs of Spring were in the grove
While I was shaping beds for[1] winter flowers;
While I was planting green unfading bowers,
And shrubs--to hang upon the warm alcove,
And sheltering wall; and still, as Fancy wove 5
The dream, to time and nature's blended powers
I gave this paradise for winter hours,
A labyrinth, Lady! which your feet shall rove.
Yes! when the sun of life more feebly shines,
Becoming thoughts, I trust, of solemn gloom 10
Or of high gladness you shall hither bring;
And these perennial bowers and murmuring pines
Be gracious as the music and the bloom
And all the mighty ravishment of spring.
The title, _To Lady Beaumont_, was first given in 1845. In 1807 it was
_To the ----_; in 1815, _To the Lady ----_; and from 1820 to 1843, _To
the Lady Beaumont_.