Heaven prosper thee, be hope thy guide!
Hope be thy guide, adventurous Boy;
The wages of thy travel, joy!
Whether for London bound--to trill 5
Thy mountain notes with simple skill;
Or on thy head to poise a show
Of Images[520] in seemly row;
The graceful form of milk-white Steed,
Or Bird that soared with Ganymede;[IE] 10
Or through our hamlets thou wilt bear
The sightless Milton, with his hair
Around his placid temples curled;
And Shakspeare at his side--a freight,
If clay could think and mind were weight, 15
For him who bore the world!
Hope be thy guide, adventurous Boy;
The wages of thy travel, joy!
II
But thou, perhaps, (alert as free[521]
Though serving sage philosophy) 20
Wilt ramble over hill and dale,
A Vender of the well-wrought Scale,
Whose sentient tube instructs to time
A purpose to a fickle clime:
Whether thou choose this useful part, 25
Or minister to finer art,
Though robbed of many a cherished dream,
And crossed by many a shattered scheme,
What stirring wonders wilt thou see
In the proud Isle of liberty! 30
Yet will the Wanderer sometimes pine
With thoughts which no delights can chase,
Recal a Sister's last embrace,
His Mother's neck entwine;
Nor shall forget the Maiden coy 35
That _would_ have loved the bright-haired Boy!
III
My Song, encouraged by the grace
That beams from his ingenuous face,
For this Adventurer scruples not
To prophesy a golden lot; 40
Due recompense, and safe return
To COMO'S steeps--his happy bourne!
Where he, aloft in garden glade,
Shall tend, with his own dark-eyed Maid,
The towering maize, and prop the twig 45
That ill supports the luscious fig;
Or feed his eye in paths sun-proof
With purple of the trellis-roof,
That through the jealous leaves escapes
From Cadenabbia's pendent grapes. 50
--Oh might he tempt that Goatherd-child
To share his wanderings! him whose look[522]
Even yet my heart can scarcely brook,
So touchingly he smiled--
As with a rapture caught from heaven-- 55
For unasked alms in pity given.[523]
PART II
I
With nodding plumes, and lightly drest
Like foresters in leaf-green vest,
The Helvetian Mountaineers, on ground
For Tell's dread archery renowned, 60
Before the target stood--to claim
The guerdon of the steadiest aim.
Loud was the rifle-gun's report--
A startling thunder quick and short!
But, flying through the heights around, 65
Echo prolonged a tell-tale sound
Of hearts and hands alike "prepared
The treasures they enjoy to guard!"
And, if there be a favoured hour
When Heroes are allowed to quit 70
The tomb, and on the clouds to sit
With tutelary power,
On their Descendants shedding grace--
This was the hour, and that the place.
II
But Truth inspired the Bards of old 75
When of an iron age they told,
Which to unequal laws gave birth,
And[524] drove Astræa from the earth.[IF]
--A gentle Boy (perchance with blood
As noble as the best endued, 80
But seemingly a Thing despised;
Even by the sun and air unprized;
For not a tinge or flowery streak
Appeared upon his tender cheek)
Heart-deaf to those rebounding notes, 85
Apart, beside his silent goats,
Sate watching in a forest shed,
Pale, ragged, with bare feet and head;[525]
Mute as the snow upon the hill,
And, as the saint he prays to, still. 90
Ah, what avails heroic deed?
What liberty? if no defence
Be won for feeble Innocence.
Father of all! though wilful Manhood read[526]
His punishment in soul-distress, 95
Grant to the morn of life its natural blessedness![IG]
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 520: 1827.
Of plaster-craft ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 521: 1837.
... and free 1822.
]
[Footnote 522: 1827.
... _he_ whose look 1822.
]
[Footnote 523: 1827.
When Pity's unasked alms were given. 1822.
]
[Footnote 524: 1837.
That ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 525: 1840.
Heart-deaf to those rebounding notes
Of pleasure, by his silent Goats--
Sate far apart in forest shed,
Pale, ragged, bare his feet and head, 1822.
Heart-deaf to those rebounding notes
Sate watching by his silent Goats,
Apart within a forest shed,
Pale, ragged, with bare feet and head; 1832.
He to those oft-rebounding notes
Heart-deaf, beside his silent goats
Sate watching in a forest shed,
Pale, ragged, with bare feet and head; 1837.
]
[Footnote 526: 1827.
... if wilful Man must read 1822.
]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote IE: In the favourite representations of the carrying off of
Ganymede, the eagle of Zeus bore him in its talons to the skies. There
was a famous statue representing this by Leochares (B.C. 372), which is
described in Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxxiv. 19, and of which there is a copy
at the Vatican. See Perry's _Greek and Roman Sculpture_, p. 463.--ED.]
[Footnote IF: The gods in the golden age were wishing to abide on earth,
but as degeneracy ensued, one by one they left. Astræa or Justice was
the last to depart--
... Virgo caede madentes,
Ultima coelestum, terras Astraea reliquit.
Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, i. 149.
See also Virgil, _Georgics_, ii. 473.--ED.]
[Footnote IG: "Thursday, Sept. 7. Cadenabbia.--A glorious morning. Mists
belting the mountains, and casting silvery garments of all shapes over
and around them, now veiling and now unveiling the rocks, the Lake
dancing below. All that this Paradise had lost yesterday, restored and
more than restored. At about 7 o'clock, D. and I set forward to walk
toward Menaggio. Wm. soon overtook us, and we were joined by an
interesting man, an inhabitant of the neighbourhood, who walked by our
side, and spoke in commendation of our countrymen in opposition to his
own, whom he did not scruple to say had no honesty about them in their
dealings with Foreigners; nor, indeed, in bargaining with each other....
He spoke English very well; had passed twenty years at different times
in England, in the course of twenty-five years; his journeys there cost
him about three guineas each time; had there realized _£_2000, by
selling telescopes and weather glasses, etc.... Our travelling merchant
joined us again, he pointed out his farm with much glee." This extract
does not seem very relevant, but it is the only passage in Mrs.
Wordsworth's Journal recording an incident which _might_ have given rise
to _The Italian Itinerant_.
Dorothy Wordsworth gives the following fuller account of the same
person. "Thursday, 6th September. Cadenabbia.--After a night of heavy
rain, a bright morning. W., M., and I set off toward Menaggio along the
terrace bordering the water, which led us to the bay at the foot of the
rocky green hill of the Church of our Lady; and there we came upon the
track of the old road, the very _same_ which my Brother had paced! for
there was no other, nor the possibility of one. That track, continued
from the foot of the mountain, leads behind the town of Cadenabbia,
cutting off the bending of the shore by which we had come to this point.
From the bare precipice, we pass through shade and sunshine, among
spreading vines, slips of green turf, or gardens of melons, gourds,
maize, and fig-trees among the rocks; it was but for a little space, yet
enough to make our regret even more lively than before that it had not
been in our power to coast one reach at least of the lake on foot. We
had been overtaken by a fine tall man, who somewhat proudly addressed us
in English. After twenty years' traffic in our country he had been
settled near his native place on the Banks of Como, having purchased an
estate near Cadenabbia with the large sum of two thousand pounds,
acquired by selling barometers, looking-glasses, etc. He had been used
to return to his wife every third year in the month of October. He made
preparations during the winter for fresh travels in the spring, at the
same time working with her on the small portion of land which they then
possessed. Portsmouth and Plymouth were the grand marts for his wares.
He amused us with recitals of adventures among the sailors who used to
bully him with, 'Come, you rogue, you get your money easily enough;
spend it freely!' and he did not care if he got rid of a guinea or two;
for he was sure to have it back again after one of the frolics--and much
more. They would often clear away his whole stock of nick-nacks. This
industrious trader used to travel on foot at the rate of from thirty to
forty miles a day, and his expenses from London to Como were but three
guineas, though it cost him one third of that sum to get to Calais. He
said he liked England because the people were _honest_, and told us some
stories illustrative of English honesty and Italian over-reaching in
bargains. This amusing and, I must say, interesting companion, turned
from us by a side-path before we reached Menaggio, saying he would meet
us again, as our road would lead us near his cottage on the heights, and
he should see us from the fields. He had another dwelling on his estate
beside Cadenabbia, where the land produced excellent wine. The produce
of his farm on the _hills_ was chiefly hay, which they were then
gathering in."
The _Swiss Goatherd_ was a boy met by the travellers at Brunnen. Mrs.
Wordsworth thus wrote of him in her Journal:--"20th Aug.--... Mountains
rising through vapour into the sky in front, and looking back, the two
Mythen towering in great majesty. The Peasants, inhabitants of these
paradisaical retreats, very civil, and seemed gratified by our eagerness
in quest of the interests they live among. Young men, seated in one of
these spacious sheds, making merry after having ended their diversions.
The target seen everywhere. In one of the sheds as we ascended, found
four goats chewing the cud, a little boy attending, all on the bench. He
looked so pensive that we became much interested about him, but D. could
not make him understand a single word. William gave him 1/2 a ----; for
which unexpected and unsolicited gift the boy thanked him 'a hundred
thousand times.' I afterwards gave him a second piece, and the same
expression of thanks was repeated. The longer we looked at the subdued
countenance of this little Boy, the more we felt for his solitary
condition. Here, with those four mute companions, he had passed his day.
The beauty of the scenery he was among was nothing to him; and no doubt
he knew of and had heard the sound of the merriment in the vales below.
When we repassed the shed, it was empty." (Journal, vol. ii.)
In Dorothy Wordsworth's briefer record of the same incident, the
following occurs:--"In one of these [sheds] we found four goats (how
bright in the cool shade) beside their keeper, then sitting on the
bench, an elegant-featured Boy--dark like an Italian, ragged, silent,
pensive, and timid. We gave him a few rapps, still he was silent; then a
few more, and he pronounced in German four words intelligible to English
ears, 'a hundred thousand thanks'; but his pale cheek wanted the ready
smile of the beggar's. It seemed as if none of his pleasures were
social, except what he might have with his dumb companions." (Journal,
vol. ii.)
With this poem compare Smollett's _Ode to Leven Water_, and see note to
l. 448 of _Descriptive Sketches_.--ED.]
XXV
THE LAST SUPPER, BY LEONARDO DA VINCI, IN THE REFECTORY OF THE CONVENT
OF MARIA DELLA GRAZIA--MILAN
Tho' searching damps and many an envious flaw
Have marred this Work; the calm ethereal grace,
The love deep-seated in the Saviour's face,
The mercy, goodness, have not failed to awe
The Elements; as they do melt and thaw 5
The heart of the Beholder--and erase
(At least for one rapt moment) every trace
Of disobedience to the primal law.
The annunciation of the dreadful truth
Made to the Twelve, survives: lip, forehead, cheek,[527] 10
And hand reposing on the board in ruth
Of what it utters,[IH] while the unguilty seek
Unquestionable meanings--still bespeak
A labour worthy of eternal youth!
_Though searching damps and many an envious flaw
Have marred this Work_;
This picture of the Last Supper has not only been grievously injured by
time, but the greatest part of it, if not the whole, is said to have
been retouched, or painted over again. These niceties may be left to
connoisseurs,--I speak of it as I felt. The copy exhibited in London
some years ago, and the engraving by Merghen, are both admirable; but in
the original is a power which neither of those works has attained, or
even approached.--W. W. 1837.
"Sunday, Sept. 3. Milan.--... Thence we went again to the Cathedral, and
to I know not how many different churches: St. Ambrose, very old and
interesting, fine frescoes. St. Maria della Grazia, where, in the
Refectory, is the exquisite picture of Leonardo da Vinci; but how
grievous that it should have been so injured by the brutality of the
French soldiers; yet, in its state of decay, what a Treasure! and how
little everything that we have seen of Pictures is to be compared to the
truth, the chasteness, and the composure that you see, and not only see,
but _feel_, when seated before that sublime work of human art. The
countenance of our Saviour sinks into your soul. Happily this is
uninjured, as are also the heads of several of the Apostles, but some
are quite extinguished." (From Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)
"Sunday, 2nd September. Milan.--Went also to the convent of Maria della
Grazia to view that most famous picture of the Last Supper by Leonardo
da Vinci, painted on the wall at one end of the refectory, a very large
hall, hung along the sides with smaller pictures, and, at the other end,
that painting of the crucifixion of which we had seen a copy at Lugano.
This Refectory was used, in the days of Buonaparte, as a military
store-house, and the mark of a musket ball, fired in wantonness by a
French Soldier, is to be seen in one part of the painting of Leonardo da
Vinci. Fortunately the ball hit where the injury was as small as it
could have been; and it is only marvellous that this fine work was not
wholly defaced during those times of military misrule and utter
disregard of all sacred things.[II] Little conversant in pictures, I
cannot take upon me to describe this, which impressed my feelings and
imagination more than any picture I ever saw, though some of the figures
are so injured by damp that they are only just traceable. The most
important are, however, happily the least injured; and that of our
Saviour has only suffered from a general fading in the colours, yet,
alas! the fading and vanishing must go on year after year till, at
length, the whole group must pass away. Through the cloisters of the
monastery, which are shattered and defaced, pictures are found in all
parts, and there are some curious monuments." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's
Journal, vol. ii.)--ED.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 527: 1827.
... survives; the brow, the cheek, 1822.
]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote IH:
"The hand
_Sang_ with the voice, and this the argument."
MILTON.
W. W. 1822.
]
XXVI
THE ECLIPSE OF THE SUN, 1820[528]
High on her speculative tower
Stood Science waiting for the hour
When Sol was destined to endure
_That_ darkening of his radiant face
Which Superstition strove to chase, 5
Erewhile, with rites impure.
Afloat beneath Italian skies,
Through regions fair as Paradise
We gaily passed,--till Nature wrought
A silent and unlooked-for change, 10
That checked the desultory range
Of joy and sprightly thought.
Where'er was dipped the toiling oar,
The waves danced round us as before,
As lightly, though of altered hue, 15
'Mid recent coolness, such as falls
At noontide from umbrageous walls
That screen the morning dew.
No vapour stretched its wings; no cloud
Cast far or near a murky shroud; 20
The sky an azure field displayed;
'Twas sunlight sheathed and gently charmed,
Of all its sparkling rays disarmed,
And as in slumber laid,--
Or something night and day between, 25
Like moonshine--but the hue was green;
Still moonshine, without shadow, spread
On jutting rock, and curvèd shore,
Where gazed the peasant from his door
And on the mountain's head. 30
It tinged the Julian steeps[IJ]--it lay,
Lugano! on thy ample bay,[529]
The solemnizing veil was drawn
O'er villas, terraces, and towers;
To Albogasio's[IK] olive bowers, 35
Porlezza's verdant lawn.
But Fancy with the speed of fire
Hath past[530] to Milan's loftiest spire,
And there alights 'mid that aërial host
Of Figures human and divine, 40
White as the snows of Apennine
Indúrated by frost.
Awe-stricken she beholds the array
That guards the Temple night and day;
Angels she sees--that might from heaven have flown,
And Virgin-saints, who not in vain 46
Have striven by purity to gain
The beatific crown--
Sees long-drawn files,[531] concentric rings
Each narrowing above each;--the wings, 50
The uplifted palms, the silent marble lips
The starry zone of sovereign height--
All steeped in this portentous light!
All suffering dim eclipse!
Thus after Man had fallen (if aught 55
These perishable spheres have wrought
May with that issue be compared)
Throngs of celestial visages,
Darkening like water in the breeze,
A holy sadness shared. 60
Lo![532] while I speak, the labouring Sun
His glad deliverance has begun:
The cypress waves her[533] sombre plume
More cheerily; and town and tower,
The vineyard and the olive-bower, 65
Their lustre re-assume!
O Ye, who guard and grace my home
While in far-distant lands we roam,
What countenance hath this Day put on for you?
While we looked round with favoured eyes, 70
Did sullen mists hide lake and skies
And mountains from your view?[534]
Or was it given you to behold
Like vision, pensive though not cold,
From the smooth breast of gay Winandermere?[535]
Saw ye the soft yet awful veil 76
Spread over Grasmere's lovely dale,
Helvellyn's brow severe?[IL]
I ask in vain--and know far less
If sickness, sorrow, or distress 80
Have spared my Dwelling to this hour;
Sad blindness! but ordained to prove
Our faith in Heaven's unfailing love
And all-controlling power.
_Of Figures human and Divine._
The Statues ranged round the Spire and along the roof of the Cathedral
of Milan, have been found fault with by Persons whose exclusive taste is
unfortunate for themselves. It is true that the same expense and labour
judiciously directed to purposes more strictly architectural, might have
much heightened the general effect of the building; for, seen from the
ground, the Statues appear diminutive. But the _coup-d'œil_, from the
best point of view, which is half way up the Spire, must strike an
unprejudiced Person with admiration; and surely the selection and
arrangement of the Figures is exquisitely fitted to support the religion
of the Country in the imaginations and feelings of the Spectator. It was
with great pleasure that I saw, during the two ascents which we made,
several Children, of different ages, tripping up and down the slender
spire, and pausing to look around them, with feelings much more animated
than could have been derived from these, or the finest works of art, if
placed within easy reach.--Remember also that you have the Alps on one
side, and on the other the Apennines, with the Plain of Lombardy
between!--W. W. 1822.
_The starry zone of sovereign height._
Above the highest circle of figures is a zone of metallic stars.--W. W.
1837.
"Thursday, Sept. 7. Cadenabbia.--... Nothing could be more lovely than
the milder scenes this morning: the little lake Piano: the sunny glades,
enlivened by groups of Peasants, gathering in their various harvests, or
seated under the shade of some tree taking refreshment, their simple
breakfast, a piece of bread and a little fruit; then, the shadows of
these trees upon green emerald lawns, between the little lake and that
of Lugano, lay more softly than ever shadows rested before, cradled
under those stupendous perpendicular barriers. Took boat at Porlezza.
Eclipse of the Sun: could bear to look at the orb shorn of his beams,
with the naked eye: the effect produced upon the scenery very fine, such
a sombre greenness, like the effect of bright moonlight: only under a
bright moon that very green colour generally diffused (as if you had on
a pair of green spectacles) cannot be. On the right bank of the lake
the woods were of a rich golden green, gloomy on the left shore, and
looking back among the towering rocks, and black coves, the region was
very solemn. The water, unillumined by sunshine, was of what I should
call a _sad_ green: the air cooler, indeed a _coolish_ air gently
agitated the lake, while the eclipse lasted. We congratulated ourselves
in being undesignedly, and indeed unexpectedly, in so grand a situation
to witness this phenomenon." (Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)
As reference is made in the poem to "Milan's loftiest spire," and its
"Figures human and divine," the following extracts from the two Journals
may be given in illustration:--"Sept. 2. Milan."--"The cathedral we have
thoroughly seen this morning. It is a grand and imposing Edifice--we
have been delighted both with the building, and with the material
_especially_, all marble of the finest kind. 3000 statues of beautiful
polished white marble are stationed upon this elegant Pile. We were upon
the very top; the pinnacle so light, yet notwithstanding the height, and
its slender appearance, feeling yourself perfectly secure.... The view
of the Cathedral itself from this station is extraordinary; the pure
graceful figures, streaming far before you, have a most interesting and
curious effect; and, from the lower roofs also, you have many fine
combinations." (Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)
"Saturday, 1st September. Milan.--Our object this morning was to ascend
to the roof, where I remained alone, not venturing to follow the rest of
the party to the top of the giddy, central spire, which is ascended by a
narrow staircase twisted round the outside. Even W. was obliged to trust
to a hand governed by a steadier head than his own. I wandered about,
with space spread around me (on the roof on which I trod), for streets
and even squares of no very diminutive Town. The floor on which I trod
was all of polished marble, intensely hot, and as dazzling as snow; and
instead of moving figures I was surrounded by groups and stationary
processions of silent statues--saints, sages, and angels. It is
impossible for me to describe the beautiful spectacle, or to give a
notion of the delight I felt; therefore I will copy a sketch in verse
composed from my Brother's recollections of the view from the central
Spire." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. ii.)
Henry Crabb Robinson wrote thus of these memorial stanzas:--"Of the
stanzas, I love most--loving all--'The Eclipse of the Sun.'" (_Diary_,
etc., vol. ii. p. 224.)--ED.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 528: 1827.
1821. 1822.
]
[Footnote 529: 1827.
Upon Lugano's ample bay; 1822.
]
[Footnote 530: 1837.
Hath fled ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 531: 1827.
Far-stretching files ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 532: 1827.
See! ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 533: 1832.
... its ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 534: 1837.
Enquiring thoughts are turned to you;
Does a clear ether meet your eyes?
Or have black vapours hid the skies
And mountains from your view? 1822.
Was such a vision given to you?
Or, while we looked with favoured eyes,
Did sullen mist hide lake and skies
And mountains from your view? 1827.
What countenance hath this day put on for you?
Do clouds surcharged with irksome rain,
Blackening the Eclipse, take hill and plain
From your benighted view? 1832.
]
[Footnote 535: 1837.
Of gay Winandermere? 1832.
]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote II: The following note was added, by Henry Crabb Robinson, to
Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal:--"It is perfectly notorious that this
picture suffered more from the negligence of the monks than from the
scorn of the French. A hole was broken thro' the lower part of the
centre of the picture to admit hot dishes from the Kitchen into the
Refectory.--H. C. R."--ED.]
[Footnote IJ: The Julian Alps, also known as the Carnic Alps, bound the
plains of Venetia, and curve round from Mount Terglu to the Dalmatian
range, and the neighbourhood of Trieste.--ED.]
[Footnote IK: Six miles from Menaggio, on Lake Lugano.--ED.]
[Footnote IL: Compare _Musings near Aquapendente_ (April 1837), l. 62.
This stanza was first included in the 1832 edition of the poems.--ED.]
XXVII
THE THREE COTTAGE GIRLS
I
How blest the Maid whose heart--yet free
From Love's uneasy sovereignty--
Beats with a fancy running high,
Her simple cares to magnify;
Whom Labour, never urged to toil, 5
Hath cherished on a healthful soil;
Who knows not pomp, who heeds not pelf;
Whose heaviest sin it is to look
Askance upon her pretty Self
Reflected in some crystal brook; 10
Whom grief hath spared--who sheds no tear
But in sweet pity; and can hear
Another's praise from envy clear.
II