Horse charging horse, 'mid these retired domains;
Tells that[463] their turf drank purple from the veins
Of heroes, fallen, or struggling to advance,
Till doubtful combat issued in a trance 5
Of victory, that struck through heart and reins
Even to the inmost seat of mortal pains,
And lightened o'er the pallid countenance.
Yet, to the loyal and the brave, who lie
In the blank earth, neglected and forlorn, 10
The passing Winds memorial tribute pay;
The Torrents chant their praise, inspiring scorn
Of power usurped; with proclamation high,
And glad acknowledgment, of lawful sway.[GE]
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 462: Mr. J. Denton, quoted in Whellan's _History and
Topography_, p. 410.]
[Footnote 463: 1827.
Nor that ... 1820.
]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote GE: "On the left or east bank of the Duddon, a little higher
than Ulpha Bridge, near a farmhouse called New Close is a small
enclosure, 44 feet square, with two old fir-trees and a quantity of
laurels, which there can be little doubt is the scene of Sonnet XXIX.
The enclosure, known to the country people as the Sepulchre, is an old
burial-place of the Society of Friends, none having been interred there
since 1755, when a Friend from Birker, a small hamlet about four miles
distant, was buried.[464]
The following two lines literally describe the condition of the little
burial-ground:--
Yet, to the loyal and the brave, who lie
In the blank earth, neglected and forlorn;--
the earth is 'blank,' because there is not a single tombstone, and the
graves are (at any rate at the present time) most literally 'neglected
and forlorn,' for the place is a tangle of rank grass and untrimmed
bushes.
About the year 1842 it was planted with fruit-trees, but when Wordsworth
saw it, it probably presented much the same appearance as at present.
The opening lines--
No record tells of lance opposed to lance, etc.,
and indeed the whole sonnet obtains a new significance from the
association of the spot which it describes with the _men of peace_."
(Herbert Rix.)
"There are few more touching scenes in the Duddon Valley than the little
lonely hillside burial-place of the early Friends, spoken of in Sonnet
XXIX. All round the inside of the rude wall enclosure are still to be
seen the stone seats used by the followers of Fox, who were forbidden to
hold their meetings under any lower roof than the canopy of Heaven. The
Scotch firs have grown into stately shade since the Quakers sat in
silent meditation high up, lifted above the life of the valley and the
noise of Duddon and the tributary stream just opposite. But though the
Friends lie here in unvisited graves, the earth is neither blank nor
forlorn. Laurels glisten above their rest, and the _Spiræa salicifolia_
waves its light wands of flower above their sleep, all evidences of care
for the heroes of a cause that is not dead yet." (H. D. Rawnsley.)]
[Footnote 464: See _Furness and Furness Abbey_, by Francis Evans (8vo,
Ulverston, 1842), p. 180.]
XXX
"WHO SWERVES FROM INNOCENCE, WHO MAKES DIVORCE"
Who swerves from innocence, who makes divorce
Of that serene companion--a good name,
Recovers not his loss; but walks with shame,
With doubt, with fear, and haply with remorse:
And oft-times he--who, yielding to the force 5
Of chance-temptation, ere his journey end,
From chosen comrade turns, or faithful friend--
In vain shall rue the broken intercourse.
Not so with such as loosely wear the chain
That binds them, pleasant River! to thy side:-- 10
Through the rough copse[GF] wheel thou with hasty stride;
I choose to saunter o'er the grassy plain,
Sure, when the separation has been tried,
That we, who part in love, shall meet again.[GG]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote GF: "To get from the Sepulchre (Sonnet XXIX.) to Ulpha Kirk
(Sonnet XXXI.) it is necessary to pass through Birks Wood, or else to
skirt the wood by going up the Fell and round it." (Herbert Rix.)]
[Footnote GG: Compare the Fenwick note prefixed to these sonnets.--ED.]
XXXI
"THE KIRK OF ULPHA TO THE PILGRIM'S EYE"
The Kirk of Ulpha to the pilgrim's eye
Is welcome as a star, that doth present
Its shining forehead through the peaceful rent
Of a black cloud diffused o'er half the sky:[GH]
Or as a fruitful palm-tree towering high 5
O'er the parched waste beside an Arab's tent;
Or the Indian tree whose branches, downward bent,
Take root again, a boundless canopy.
How sweet were leisure! could it yield no more
Than 'mid that wave-washed Church-yard to recline, 10
From pastoral graves extracting thoughts divine;
Or there to pace, and mark the summits hoar
Of distant moon-lit mountains faintly shine,
Soothed by the unseen River's gentle roar.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote GH: "Ulpha Kirk is situated on a rock, the base of which is
washed by the Duddon. From time immemorial its walls have been
whitewashed, so that on a sunny day it _literally_ 'shines' from its
exalted position. It is best seen from the hay-fields on the left bank
just above Ulpha Bridge. These fields lie low, and the church perched on
its rock seems lifted higher than from any other point of view.
When I visited Ulpha in the summer of 1882 I found the carpenters at
work restoring it, and since then a new belfry has been erected, and the
tiny white porch has been replaced by a larger one of wood. But I saw it
in 1881, when the interior, as well as the exterior, still kept the
appearance which it wore in Wordsworth's day. The pulpit (with
sounding-board) was in the middle of one side, and to the right hand
thereof were a magnificent lion-and-unicorn, and 'G. III. R.' The font
was up against the wall, with a ladder hung above it. There was no
vestry; the surplice was kept in a cupboard near the door, and the
clergyman donned and doffed it behind a screen which only partially hid
him. The pews were square and high, and the people sat all round them,
with their backs to all four points of the compass; but when the hymn
was sung they all turned with their backs to the altar and their faces
to the choir." (Herbert Rix.)
* * * * *
"The last line of this sonnet is a good instance of Wordsworth's very
close observation. The little churchyard has lately had an addition made
to it. Any one going into the new part of the churchyard will be less
able to understand the accuracy of the last line." (H. D. Rawnsley.)]
XXXII
"NOT HURLED PRECIPITOUS FROM STEEP TO STEEP"
Not hurled precipitous from steep to steep;
Lingering no more 'mid flower-enamelled lands
And blooming thickets; nor by rocky bands
Held; but in radiant progress toward the Deep
Where mightiest rivers into powerless sleep 5
Sink, and forget their nature--_now_ expands
Majestic Duddon, over smooth flat sands[GI]
Gliding in silence with unfettered sweep!
Beneath an ampler sky a region wide
Is opened round him:--hamlets, towers, and towns,
And blue-topped hills, behold him from afar; 11
In stately mien to sovereign Thames allied
Spreading his bosom under Kentish downs,
With commerce freighted, or triumphant war.[GJ]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote GI: Compare Michael Drayton--
But southward sallying hence, to those sea-bordering Lands,
Where _Duddon_ driving down to the _Lancastrian_ Sands,
This _Cumberland_ cuts out, etc.
_Poly-olbion_. The thirtieth song.--ED.
]
[Footnote GJ: "This sonnet was probably written from some rare vantage
ground or view as is obtained of the last reaches of the Duddon
In radiant progress toward the Deep,
from the crest of a hill immediately above Broughton.
I am led to think thus from the fact that standing there the poet could
speak as he does in Sonnet XXXIV.--
For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes,
I see what was, and is, and will abide;
while the little Broughton Church with its dark yews close around it
seen at his feet would naturally give birth to the thought that 'the
elements must vanish,' and that as Duddon hurried to its pauseless
sleep, so man to 'the silent tomb must go.'" (H. D. Rawnsley.)]
XXXIII
CONCLUSION
But here no cannon thunders to the gale;
Upon the wave no haughty pendants cast
A crimson splendour: lowly is the mast
That rises here, and humbly spread, the sail;
While, less disturbed than in the narrow Vale 5
Through which with strange vicissitudes he passed,
The Wanderer seeks that receptacle vast
Where all his unambitious functions fail.
And may thy Poet, cloud-born Stream! be free--
The sweets of earth contentedly resigned, 10
And each tumultuous working left behind
At seemly distance--to advance like Thee;
Prepared, in peace of heart, in calm of mind
And soul, to mingle with Eternity![GK]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote GK: "This series of sonnets follows with some accuracy the
order of the scenes. It is far from exact to speak of them, as Mr.
Chattock in his preliminary note has so emphatically done, as '_massed
together_.' With the doubtful exceptions of the sonnets on the
'Stepping-Stones' and the 'Resting-Place,' each one falls naturally into
its order. The Birth-place on Wrynose, the 'sinuous lapse' along the
pass, the Descent into the Valley, the Cottage at Cockley Beck, Gowdrel
Crag, Wallabarrow and the Pen, Seathwaite Chapel, the Tributary Stream,
Long Dub, the Sepulchre at New Close, Ulpha Kirk, Duddon Sands--to all
these places there are clear allusions; the sonnets which contain those
allusions occur in the order indicated, and this order is the strict
topographical succession proceeding from the source of the Duddon to the
mouth." (Herbert Rix.)]
XXXIV
AFTER-THOUGHT
_I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide,
As being past away.--Vain sympathies!
For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes,
I see what was, and is, and will abide;
Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;_[465][GL] 5
_The Form remains, the Function never dies;
While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise,
We Men, who in our morn of youth defied
The elements, must vanish;--be it so!
Enough, if something from our hands have power_ 10
_To live, and act, and serve the future hour;
And if, as toward the silent tomb we go,
Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower,
We feel that we are greater than we know._[GM]
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 465: 1820 (1st edition).
... and shall not cease to glide; 1820.
(2nd edition.)
The text of 1840 returns to that of the 2nd edition of 1820.]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote GL: Compare _The Fountain_ (vol. ii. p. 92)--
'Twill murmur on a thousand years,
And flow as now it flows.
And Tennyson's _Brook_,
Men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
ED.
]
[Footnote GM:
And feel that I am happier than I know.--MILTON.[466]
The allusion to the Greek poet will be obvious to the classical
reader.--W. W. 1820.
I was indebted to Professor Jebb, in 1883, for the following note:--
"While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise,
...
... must vanish, ...
has been suggested by the well-known lines in the
Ἐπιτάφιον Βίωνος, by the pastoral poet Moschus of Syracuse
(circ. 200 B.C.):--
αἴ, αἴ, ταὶ μαλάχαι μὲν ἐπὰν κατὰ κᾶπον ὄλωνται,
ἢ τὰ χλωρὰ σέλινα, τό τ' εὐθαλὲς οὖλον ἄνηθον,
ὕστερον αὖ ζώοντι καὶ εἰς ἔτος ἄλλο φύοντι·
_ἄμμες δ', οἱ μεγάλοι καὶ καρτεροὶ ἢ σοφοὶ ἄνδρες_,
ὁππότε πρᾶτα θάνωμες, ἀνάκοοι ἐν χθονὶ κοίλᾳ
εὕδομες εὖ μάλα μακρὸν ἀτέρμονα νήγρετον ὕπνον.]
(Vv. 103-108.)
You will see that Wordsworth has _translated_ the Greek verse which I
underline ('brave' representing μεγάλοι). The 'mallows,' 'parsley,'
'anise' of the Greek poet's garden--which are to live again--are
represented by Wordsworth's stream which 'shall for ever glide.'
One might _contrast_ the lines in the _Christian Year_ about the autumn
leaves:--
How like decaying life they seem to glide!
And yet no second spring have they in store,
But where they fall, forgotten to abide
Is all their portion, and they ask no more."
With this _Afterthought_ compare Virgil, _Georgics_ II. 458, 459--
O fortunatos nimium sua si bona norint
Agricolas, etc.
ED.]
POSTSCRIPT
A poet, whose works are not yet known as they deserve to be,[GN] thus
enters upon his description of the "Ruins of Rome":
The rising Sun
Flames on the ruins in the purer air
Towering aloft;
and ends thus--
The setting Sun displays
His visible great round, between yon towers,
As through two shady cliffs.
Mr. Crowe, in his excellent loco-descriptive Poem, _Lewesdon Hill_, is
still more expeditious, finishing the whole on a May-morning before
breakfast.
To-morrow for severer thought, but now
To breakfast, and keep festival to-day.
No one believes, or is desired to believe, that these Poems were
actually composed within such limits of time; nor was there any reason
why a prose statement should acquaint the Reader with the plain fact, to
the disturbance of poetic credibility. But, in the present case, I am
compelled to mention, that the above series of Sonnets was the growth of
many years;--the one which stands the 14th was the first produced; and
others were added upon occasional visits to the Stream, or as
recollections of the scenes upon its banks awakened a wish to describe
them. In this manner I had proceeded insensibly, without perceiving that
I was trespassing upon ground preoccupied, at least as far as intention
went, by Mr. Coleridge; who, more than twenty years ago, used to speak
of writing a rural Poem, to be entitled "The Brook," of which he has
given a sketch in a recent publication. But a particular subject,
cannot, I think, much interfere with a general one; and I have been
further kept from encroaching upon any right Mr. C. may still wish to
exercise, by the restriction which the frame of the Sonnet imposed upon
me, narrowing unavoidably the range of thought, and precluding, though
not without its advantages, many graces to which a freer movement of
verse would naturally have led.
May I not venture, then, to hope, that instead of being a hindrance, by
anticipation of any part of the subject, these Sonnets may remind Mr.
Coleridge of his own more comprehensive design, and induce him to fulfil
it?[GO]----There is a sympathy in streams,--"one calleth to another";
and, I would gladly believe, that "The Brook" will, ere long, murmur in
concert with "The Duddon." But, asking pardon for this fancy, I need not
scruple to say, that those verses must indeed be ill-fated which can
enter upon such pleasant walks of nature, without receiving and giving
inspiration. The power of waters over the minds of Poets has been
acknowledged from the earliest ages;--through the "Flumina amem
sylvasque inglorius" of Virgil,[GP] down to the sublime apostrophe to
the great rivers of the earth, by Armstrong,[GQ] and the simple
ejaculation of Burns,[GR] (chosen, if I recollect right, by Mr.
Coleridge, as a motto for his embryo "Brook"),
The Muse, nae poet ever fand her,
Till by himsel' he learned to wander,
Adown some trotting burn's meander,
AND NO THINK LANG.
W. W. 1820.
As an illustration of the extraordinary freaks of contemporary
criticism--freaks which still tarnish much that issues from the
press--an estimate of those Duddon Sonnets, which appeared in _The
Monthly Review_ in 1820, may be referred to. All that posterity now
admires in this exquisite series of descriptive poems is decried; and
those passages which posterity regards as blemishes, are held up to
admiration; _e.g._ the lines with which the tenth sonnet, in "The
Stepping-Stones," concludes, which are so frigid and affected, were
hailed as "a complete return into the regions of antiquity," and as a
sign that "Mr. Wordsworth is certainly improving"! They are the very
feeble lines:--
The frolic Loves, who, from yon high rock, see
The struggle, clap their wings for victory!
while the
... unculled floweret of the glen,
Fearless of plough and scythe; or darkling wren
That tunes on Duddon's banks her slender voice,
is held up to ridicule!--ED.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 466: _Paradise Lost_, book viii. l. 282.--ED.]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote GN: John Dyer. _The Ruins of Rome_, 4to, London, 1740. Compare
Wordsworth's lines _To the Poet, John Dyer_, vol. iv. p. 273.--ED.]
[Footnote GO: Compare p. 302, "Why is the Harp of Quantock
silent?"--ED.]
[Footnote GP: See _Georgics_ II. 486.--ED.]
[Footnote GQ: Armstrong's "apostrophe to the great rivers of the earth"
is in his _Art of Preserving Health_ (book ii. ll. 355-364)--
... I hear the din
Of waters thund'ring o'er the ruined cliffs.
With holy reverence I approach the rocks
Whence glide the streams renowned in ancient song.
Here from the desert down the rumbling steep
First springs the Nile; here vents the sounding Po
In angry waves; Euphrates hence devolves
A mighty flood to water half the East;
And there, in Gothic solitude reclined,
The cheerless Tanais pours his hoary urn.
ED.
]
[Footnote GR: From his _Epistle to William Simpson, Ochiltree_; stanza
15.--ED.]
NOTE TO SONNETS XVII AND XVIII
The EAGLE requires a large domain for its support; but several pairs,
not many years ago, were constantly resident in this country, building
their nests in the steeps of Borrowdale, Wastdale, Ennerdale, and on the
eastern side of Helvellyn. Often have I heard anglers speak of the
grandeur of their appearance, as they hovered over Red Tarn, in one of
the coves of this mountain. The bird frequently returns, but is always
destroyed. Not long since one visited Rydal Lake, and remained some
hours near its banks; the consternation which it occasioned among the
different species of fowl, particularly the herons, was expressed by
loud screams. The horse also is naturally afraid of the eagle.--There
were several Roman stations among these mountains; the most considerable
seems to have been in a meadow at the head of Windermere, established,
undoubtedly, as a check over the passes of Kirkstone, Dunmail-raise, and
of Hardknot and Wrynose. On the margin of Rydal Lake, a coin of Trajan
was discovered very lately.--The ROMAN FORT here alluded to, called by
the country people "_Hardknot Castle_," is most impressively situated
half-way down the hill on the right of the road that descends from
Hardknot into Eskdale. It has escaped the notice of most antiquarians,
and is but slightly mentioned by Lysons.--The DRUIDICAL CIRCLE is about
half a mile to the left of the road ascending Stone-side from the vale
of Duddon: the country people call it "_Sunken Church_."
The reader who may have been interested in the foregoing Sonnets (which
together may be considered as a Poem) will not be displeased to find in
this place a prose account of the Duddon, extracted from Green's
comprehensive _Guide to the Lakes_, lately published. "The road leading
from Coniston to Broughton is over high ground, and commands a view of
the river Duddon; which at high water is a grand sight, having the
beautiful and fertile lands of Lancashire and Cumberland stretching each
way from its margin. In this extensive view, the face of nature is
displayed in a wonderful variety of hill and dale; wooded grounds and
buildings; amongst the latter, Broughton Tower, seated on the crown of a
hill, rising elegantly from the valley, is an object of extraordinary
interest. Fertility on each side is gradually diminished, and lost in
the superior heights of Blackcomb, in Cumberland, and the high lands
between Kirkby and Ulverstone.
"The road from Broughton to Seathwaite is on the banks of the Duddon,
and on its Lancashire side it is of various elevations. The river is an
amusing companion, one while brawling and tumbling over rocky
precipices, until the agitated water becomes again calm by arriving at a
smoother and less precipitous bed, but its course is soon again ruffled,
and the current thrown into every variety of form which the rocky
channel of a river can give to water." (_Vide_ Green's _Guide to the
Lakes_, vol. i. pp. 98-100.)
After all, the traveller would be most gratified who should approach
this beautiful Stream, neither at its source, as is done in the Sonnets,
nor from its termination; but from Coniston over Walna Scar; first
descending into a little circular valley, a collateral compartment of
the long winding vale through which flows the Duddon. This recess,
towards the close of September, when the after-grass of the meadows is
still of a fresh green, with the leaves of many of the trees faded, but
perhaps none fallen, is truly enchanting. At a point elevated enough to
show the various objects in the valley, and not so high as to diminish
their importance, the stranger will instinctively halt. On the
foreground, a little below the most favourable station, a rude
foot-bridge is thrown over the bed of the noisy brook, foaming by the
wayside. Russet and craggy hills, of bold and varied outline, surround
the level valley which is besprinkled with grey rocks plumed with birch
trees. A few homesteads are interspersed in some places, peeping out
from among the rocks like hermitages, whose site has been chosen for the
benefit of sunshine as well as shelter; in other instances, the
dwelling-house, barn, and byre, compose together a cruciform structure,
which, with its embowering trees and the ivy clothing part of the walls
and roof, like a fleece, call to mind the remains of an ancient abbey.
Time, in most cases, and nature every where, have given a sanctity to
the humble works of man, that are scattered over this peaceful
retirement. Hence a harmony of tone and colour, a consummation and
perfection of beauty, which would have been marred had aim or purpose
interfered with the course of convenience, utility, or necessity. This
unvitiated region stands in no need of the veil of twilight to soften or
disguise its features. As it glistens in the morning sunshine, it would
fill the spectator's heart with gladsomeness. Looking from our chosen
station, he would feel an impatience to rove among its pathways, to be
greeted by the milkmaid, to wander from house to house, exchanging
"good-morrows" as he passed the open doors; but, at evening, when the
sun is set, and a pearly light gleams from the western quarter of the
sky, with an answering light from the smooth surface of the meadows;
when the trees are dusky, but each kind still distinguishable; when the
cool air has condensed the blue smoke rising from the cottage-chimneys;
when the dark mossy stones seem to sleep in the bed of the foaming
Brook; _then_, he would be unwilling to move forward, not less from a
reluctance to relinquish what he beholds, than from an apprehension of
disturbing, by his approach, the quietness beneath him. Issuing from the
plain of this valley, the Brook descends in a rapid torrent, passing by
the churchyard of Seathwaite. The traveller is thus conducted at once
into the midst of the wild and beautiful scenery which gave occasion to
the Sonnets from the 14th to the 20th inclusive. From the point where
the Seathwaite Brook joins the Duddon, is a view upwards, into the pass
through which the River makes its way into the Plain of Donnerdale. The
perpendicular rock on the right bears the ancient British name of THE
PEN; the one opposite is called WALLA-BARROW CRAG, a name that occurs in
several places to designate rocks of the same character. The _chaotic_
aspect of the scene is well marked by the expression of a stranger, who
strolled out while dinner was preparing, and, at his return, being asked
by his host, "What way he had been wandering?" replied, "As far as it is
_finished_!"
The bed of the Duddon is here strewn with large fragments of rock fallen
from aloft; which, as Mr. Green truly says, "are happily adapted to the
many-shaped waterfalls," (or rather water-breaks, for none of them are
high,) "displayed in the short space of half a mile." That there is some
hazard in frequenting these desolate places, I myself have had proof;
for one night an immense mass of rock fell upon the very spot where,
with a friend, I had lingered the day before. "The concussion," says Mr.
Green, speaking of the event, (for he also, in the practice of his art,
on that day sat exposed for a still longer time to the same peril,) "was
heard, not without alarm, by the neighbouring shepherds." But to return
to Seathwaite Churchyard: it contains the following inscription:--
"In memory of the Reverend Robert Walker, who died the 25th of June,
1802, in the 93d year of his age, and 67th of his curacy at Seathwaite.
"Also, of Anne his wife, who died the 28th of January, in the 93d year
of her age."
In the parish-register of Seathwaite Chapel, is this notice:
"Buried, June 28th, the Rev. Robert Walker. He was curate of Seathwaite
sixty-six years. He was a man singular for his temperance, industry, and
integrity."