That dark unfathomable eye, 15
Where lurks a Spirit that replies
To stillest mood of softest skies,
Yet hints at peace to be o'erthrown,
Another's first, and then her own?)
Such, haply, yon ITALIAN Maid, 20
Our Lady's laggard Votaress,
Halting beneath the chestnut shade
To accomplish there her loveliness:
Nice aid maternal fingers lend;
A Sister serves with slacker hand; 25
Then, glittering like a star, she joins the festal band.
III
How blest (if truth may entertain
Coy fancy with a bolder strain)
The HELVETIAN Girl--who daily braves,
In her light skiff, the tossing waves, 30
And quits the bosom of the deep
Only to climb the rugged steep!
--Say whence that modulated shout!
From Wood-nymph of Diana's throng?
Or does the greeting to a rout 35
Of giddy Bacchanals belong?
Jubilant outcry! rock and glade
Resounded--but the voice obeyed
The breath of an Helvetian Maid.
IV
Her beauty dazzles the thick wood; 40
Her courage animates the flood;
Her steps[536] the elastic green-sward meets
Returning unreluctant sweets;
The mountains (as ye heard) rejoice
Aloud, saluted by her voice! 45
Blithe Paragon of Alpine grace,
Be as thou art--for through thy veins
The blood of Heroes runs its race!
And nobly wilt thou brook the chains
That, for the virtuous, Life prepares; 50
The fetters which the Matron wears;
The patriot Mother's weight of anxious cares!
V
[IM]"Sweet HIGHLAND Girl! a very shower
Of beauty was thy earthly dower,"
When thou didst flit before mine eyes,[537] 55
Gay Vision under sullen skies,
While Hope and Love around thee played,
Near the rough falls of Inversneyd![IN]
Have they, who nursed the blossom, seen
No breach of promise in the fruit? 60
Was joy, in following joy, as keen
As grief can be in grief's pursuit?
When youth had flown did hope still bless
Thy goings[538]--or the cheerfulness
Of innocence survive to mitigate distress? 65
VI
But from our course why turn--to tread
A way with shadows overspread;
Where what we gladliest would believe
Is feared as what may most deceive?
Bright Spirit, not with amaranth crowned 70
But heath-bells from thy native ground.
Time[539] cannot thin thy flowing hair,
Nor take one ray of light from Thee;
For in my Fancy thou dost share
The gift of immortality; 75
And there shall bloom, with Thee allied,
The Votaress by Lugano's side;
And that intrepid Nymph, on Uri's steep, descried!
The following passage from Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal describes
The Votaress by Lugano's side.
"Lugano, Sept. 8, Friday.--... The evening was uncommonly fine; the road
shady; bells ringing from the neighbouring chapels, that crested many a
steep rock; birds too here, fitfully warbling from the groves; waters
gushing through some rocky cleft among the thickets; and I, at my own
pace and will, enjoyed a quiet and most refreshing walk. At every step
up and down the well-made road, meeting something new, a different
shaped mountain, or the same trees under different combinations, a
tempting path winding to a village in a dell below, or to a nest of
cottages gathered round a spire above, a tinkling stream, or a green
glade without one; and all the way through a region of stately trees....
Here an elegant-looking peasant Girl was putting on her gay ornaments
before she entered the Town, where also was a festival. Her dress was so
pretty I could not help noticing it, a scarlet chintz frock with a deep
figured border, a wide muslin apron, nearly wrapping her round, also
with a deep richly wrought border, and slung by white straps over the
shoulders, a gold chain round the neck, earrings, etc.; her hair,
something like Dora's, nicely braided. Her companions were assisting to
put a very beautiful silk handkerchief upon her neck. One of them, from
the interest she seemed to take in the arrangements, might be the mother
of the Maiden; the other, a younger Sister perhaps, who lent her aid
more slackly, and would, I daresay, rather have been in the wild fields
gathering flowers to deck a Mayday garland, or to wreath a coronal for
_Our Lady's_ head, on this her day of Festival."
The intrepid Nymph, on Uri's steep, descried!
is thus referred to by Mrs. Wordsworth:--
"Sunday, 20th Aug. Seewen.--... William and I returned later than the
rest, having gone further. On reaching a knoll, before we descended into
Brunnen, a pretty short-faced, bright-eyed Girl of eighteen or nineteen
met us. We enquired the way. She answered; and we bid her good night,
and turned from her. Presently she whistled very softly, then sent forth
an uncouth sound, more as from the voice of a man than a maiden. It was
not a deep sound, but one that might be heard in the Vale and across the
Lake, and made the hills about us ring. This was followed by a series of
Swiss airs, which she warbled without pause, one after the other, in an
impassioned manner, hurrying through as if she wished to reach the
utmost limits of her powers, before we were out of hearing; yet I cannot
but think these modulated notes meant more than we could understand.
They were probably addressed to some one at a distance. There she stood
upon the naked rock; and, as a waterfall, the sound grew as we listened,
so that I even fancied she was following us, in sight of the villages
below and around, and her voice must have been known to those nearer
dwellings, in one of which she probably found her home."
The "Sweet Highland Girl!" is thus described in Dorothy Wordsworth's
_Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland_ in 1803:--
"Sunday, Aug. 28, 1803.--After long waiting, the girls, who had been on
the look-out, informed us that the boat was coming. I went to the
waterside, and saw a cluster of people on the opposite shore; but being
yet at a distance, they looked more like soldiers surrounding a carriage
than a group of men and women; red and green were the distinguishable
colours. We hastened to get ourselves ready as soon as we saw the party
approach, but had longer to wait than we expected, the lake being wider
than it appears to be. As they drew near we could distinguish men in
tartan plaids, women in scarlet cloaks, and green umbrellas by the
half-dozen. The landing was as pretty a sight as ever I saw. The bay,
which had been so quiet two days before, was all in motion with small
waves, while the swollen waterfall roared in our ears. The boat came
steadily up, being pressed almost to the water's edge by the weight of
its cargo; perhaps twenty people landed, one after another. It did not
rain much, but the women held up their umbrellas; they were dressed in
all the colours of the rainbow, and, with their scarlet cardinals, the
tartan plaids of the men, and Scotch bonnets, made a gay appearance.
There was a joyous bustle surrounding the boat, which even imparted
something of the same character to the waterfall in its tumult, and the
restless grey waves; the young men laughed and shouted, the lasses
laughed, and the elder folks seemed to be in a bustle to be away. I
remember well with what haste the mistress of the house where we were
ran up to seek after her child, and seeing us, how anxiously and kindly
she inquired how we had fared, if we had had a good fire, had been well
waited upon, etc. etc. All this in three minutes--for the boatman had
another party to bring from the other side, and hurried us off.
"The hospitality we had met with at the two cottages and Mr.
Macfarlane's gave us very favourable impressions on this our first
entrance into the Highlands, and at this day the innocent merriment of
the girls, with their kindness to us, and the beautiful figure and face
of the elder, come to my mind whenever I think of the ferry-house and
waterfall of Loch Lomond, and I never think of the two girls but the
whole image of that romantic spot is before me, a living image, as it
will be to my dying day."
See The Poetical Works, vol. ii. pp. 389, 390, and the Fenwick
note.--ED.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 536: 1832.
Her step ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 537: 1837.
... pass before my eyes, 1822.
... flit before my eyes, 1832.
]
[Footnote 538: 1840.
Her goings ... 1837.
]
[Footnote 539: 1837.
... of Inversneyd!
Time ... 1822.
In editions of 1822 to 1832, the first six lines of stanza v. were
joined to the last seven of stanza vi., making up a single stanza (No.
v.), and concluding the poem.]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote IM: See the Author's Miscellaneous Poems, vol. ii.--W. W.
1822.]
[Footnote IN: I retain Wordworth's spelling of the name of this
place.--ED.]
XXVIII
THE COLUMN INTENDED BY BUONAPARTE FOR A TRIUMPHAL EDIFICE IN MILAN,
NOW LYING BY THE WAY-SIDE IN THE SIMPLON PASS[540]
Ambition--following down this far-famed slope
Her Pioneer, the snow-dissolving Sun,
While clarions prate of kingdoms to be won--
Perchance, in future ages, here may stop;
Taught to mistrust her flattering horoscope 5
By admonition from this prostrate Stone!
Memento uninscribed of Pride o'erthrown;
Vanity's hieroglyphic; a choice trope
In Fortune's rhetoric. Daughter of the Rock,
Rest where thy course was stayed by Power divine!
The Soul transported sees, from hint of thine, 11
Crimes which the great Avenger's hand provoke,
Hears combats whistling o'er the ensanguined heath:
What groans! what shrieks! what quietness in death!
Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal contains the following reference to this
"column":--"Sat., 9th Sept. (From Bavana to Domo d'Ossola.)--... The
fine column--Buonaparte's--seen to-day, arrested here by the news of his
overthrow, on its way to form a part of the triumphal arch at Milan!"
"Sunday, 9th September. Domo d'Ossola.--At a considerable height from
the river's bed an immense column of granite lies by the wayside, as if
its course had been stopped there by tidings of Napoleon's overthrow. It
was intended by him for his unfinished triumphal arch at Milan; and I
wish it may remain prostrate on the mountain for ages to come. His
bitterest foe could scarcely contrive a more impressive record of
disappointed vanity and ambition. The sledge upon which it has been
dragged from the quarry is rotted beneath it, while the pillar remains
as fresh and sparkling as if hewn but yesterday. W., who came after us,
said he had named it the 'weary stone,' in memory of that immense stone
in the wilds of Peru, so called by the Indians because after 20,000 of
them had dragged it over heights and hollows, it tumbled down a
precipice, and rested immovable at the bottom, where it must forever
remain. Ere long we come to the first passage _through_ the rocks, near
the River's bed, and 'Road and River'[IO] for some time fill the bottom
of the valley. We miss the bright torrents that stream down the hills
bordering the Tesino; but here is no want of variety. We are in closer
neighbourhood with the crags; hence their shapes are continually
changing, and their appearance is the more commanding; and, wherever an
old building is seen, it is overspread with the hues of the natural
crags, and is in form of accordant irregularity. The very road itself,
however boldly it may bestride the hills or pierce the rocks, is yet the
slave of nature, its windings often being governed as imperiously as
those of the Vedra within the chasm of the glen." (Dorothy Wordsworth's
Journal.)
Another extract from Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal will farther illustrate
this sonnet:--
Milan, Sept. 20.--... "Been to see the Bibliotheca Ambrosia....
Petrarch's Virgil delighted us more than all. It had been clawed by
Buonaparte; and he had had the audacity to new-bind this book, and place
four odious N's upon its back. When he revisited this library, as the
animated old librarian related to us, he had this volume under his arm,
saying, 'This is mine,' and walked off with it himself. It is well it
did not remain in possession of so unworthy a master."--ED.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 540: 1827.
SONNET. THE COLUMN ...
... SEMPLON PASS.--W. W. 1822.
]
XXIX
STANZAS
COMPOSED IN THE SIMPLON PASS[541]
Vallombrosa! I longed in thy shadiest wood
To slumber, reclined on the moss-covered floor,
To listen to ANIO'S precipitous flood,
When the stillness of evening hath deepened[542] its roar;
To range through the Temples of PÆSTUM, to muse 5
In POMPEII preserved by her burial in earth;
On pictures to gaze where they drank in their hues;
And murmur sweet songs on the ground of their birth!
The beauty of Florence, the grandeur of Rome,
Could I leave them unseen, and not yield to regret?[IP] 10
With a hope (and no more) for a season to come,
Which ne'er may discharge the magnificent debt?
Thou fortunate Region! whose Greatness inurned
Awoke to new life from its ashes and dust;
Twice-glorified fields! if in sadness I turned 15
From your infinite marvels, the sadness was just.
Now, risen ere the light-footed Chamois retires
From dew-sprinkled grass to heights guarded with snow,
Toward the mists that hang over the land of my Sires,
From the climate of myrtles contented I go. 20
My thoughts become bright like yon edging of Pines
On the steep's lofty verge: how it blacken'd the air!
But, touched from behind by the Sun, it now shines[543]
With threads that seem part of his own silver hair.
Though the toil of the way[544] with dear Friends we divide, 25
Though by the same zephyr our temples be fanned[545]
As we rest in the cool orange-bower side by side,
A yearning survives which few hearts shall withstand:
Each step hath its value while homeward we move;--
O joy when the girdle of England appears! 30
What moment in life is so conscious of love,
Of love in the heart made more happy by tears?[546]
Wordsworth and his friends did not visit any of the places mentioned in
the first two stanzas, but recrossed the Alps by the Simplon route after
their brief visit to the Italian Lakes. Mrs. Wordsworth writes thus of
their walk from Domo d'Ossola to the Simplon Hospice:--"Sunday, Sept.
20.--... We had great pleasure in discovering traces of a more difficult
ascent (in one instance, with the remains of an oratory), down which
William and Jones came thirty years ago. William pointed out to us an
ancient, high, many windowed edifice, by the roadside, as the Hospital
where they had lodged; a wild and solemn harbour! On the opposite side
of the road, a neat little church, as clean as any English chapel,
standing in its tiny enclosure of burial ground; below, the Tusa; but
its murmur, or rather raving, could not be heard for the riotous din of
a torrent, tumbling from the stupendous mountain above, a tumultuous
sound, distinctly remembered by William, an unchangeable object!
Bonaparte's words, 'Be thou fettered,' would have been of no avail
here.... As we advance, Pines climbing up to the skies, in some places
clothing the very pinnacles of the highest rocks. The road cut and
carried through masses of the solid rock.... Symptoms of desolation as
we advance. Mountains crumbling gradually, or brought down by force of
waters. Blasted pines standing or torn up, and lying in a decaying
state, in the torrent's bed. In the midst of such scenes to come in view
of one of those lovely green Prairies is an enlivening sight, with its
little cottage.... Watching as we did all the way snatches of the old
road, we traced it as we thought across the river and up the ascent on
the other side; and afterwards Wm. told us that there was the very point
where he and Jones had committed the same mistake, had taken that road
(as recorded in his poem) and had to retrace their steps--and bend
downwards with the stream, under a sort of depression from the feeling
that 'he had crossed the Alps.'..."
Compare _The Prelude_, book vi. 1. 562, etc.--ED.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 541: 1827.
... SEMPLON PASS. 1822.
]
[Footnote 542: 1827.
... had softened ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 543: 1837.
... Pine,
Black fringe to a precipice lofty and bare,
Which, as from behind the Sun strikes it, doth shine 1822.
... pines,
How black was its hue in the region of air!
But, touched from behind by the sun, it now shines 1827.
]
[Footnote 544: 1837.
Tho' the burthen of toil ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 545: 1837.
... are fann'd, 1822.
]
[Footnote 546: 1837.
So rich in the tenderest sweetness of tears? 1822.
]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote IO: Compare _The Simplon Pass_ (vol. ii. p. 69)--
Brook and road
Were fellow-travellers in this gloomy Pass.
ED.
]
[Footnote IP: Compare _Yarrow Unvisited_ (vol. ii. p. 411).--ED.]
XXX
ECHO, UPON THE GEMMI
What beast of chase hath broken from the cover?
Stern GEMMI listens to as full a cry,
As multitudinous a harmony
Of sounds as rang[547] the heights of Latmos over,
When, from the soft couch of her sleeping Lover, 5
Up-starting, Cynthia skimmed the mountain-dew
In keen pursuit--and gave, where'er she flew,[IQ]
Impetuous motion to the Stars above her.[IR]
A solitary Wolf-dog, ranging on
Through the bleak concave, wakes this wondrous chime
Of aëry voices locked in unison,-- 11
Faint--far-off--near--deep--solemn and sublime!--
So, from the body of one guilty deed,[548]
A thousand ghostly fears, and haunting thoughts, proceed!
They went up the Gemmi Pass from Leukerbad, passed the Dauben See and
the Schwarenbach Inn, looked into the valley of Kandersteg, and returned
to the baths of Leuk. Mrs. Wordsworth writes:--"Wed., 13th Sept. Baths
of Leuk.--... On our right we looked down from an immense height into
Gastern Thal, a huge cleft, between the snowy Giants, Altels and Blumlis
Alp. The Kandor rises out of this rocky recess, makes a bend at the foot
of our high station, and takes a direct course down the valley before
us.... We were very loath to return, without measuring the tempting vale
through which this river flows. Returned by the same path. On drawing
towards the little mountain Inn, the mastiff, hearing our footsteps
before we could see him, or hear his voice, raised such a tumult in the
mountains as produced the effect of a large pack of well-toned hounds in
full cry. It was a grand sound. And this reminds me of the fine echoes
called forth by a traveller or his guide in the morning. They were
before us, as we clomb the Gemmi. The voice was a universal one; and the
prolonged and re-echoed notes could not have been more harmonious had
they proceeded from the sweetest instrument."
"Wednesday, 12th September. Baths of Leuk.--The total absence of all
_sound_ of living _creature_ was very striking: silent moths in
abundance flew about in the sunshine, and the muddy Lake weltered below
us; the only sound when we checked our voices to listen. Hence we
continued to journey over rocky and barren ground till we suddenly
looked down into a warm, green nook, into which we must descend. Twelve
cattle were there enclosed by the crags, as in a field of their own
choosing. We passed among them, giving no disturbance, and again came
upon a tract as barren as before. After about two leagues from the top
of the Gemmi crags, the summer Chalet, our promised resting-place, was
seen facing us, reared against the stony mountain, and overlooking a
desolate round hollow. Winding along the side of the hill (that deep
hollow beneath us to the right) a long half-mile brought us to the
platform before the door of the hut. It was a scene of wild gaiety.
Half-a-score of youthful travellers (military students from the College
of Thun) were there regaling themselves. Mr. Robinson became sociable;
and we, while the party stood round us talking with him, had our repast
spread upon the same table where they had finished theirs. They
departed; and we saw them winding away towards the Gemmi on the side of
the precipice above the dreary hollow--a long procession, not less
interesting than the group at our approach. But every object connected
with animated nature (and human life especially) is interesting on such
a road as this; we meet no one with a stranger's heart! I cannot forget
with what pleasure, soon after leaving the hut, we greeted two young
matrons, one with a child in her arms, the other with hers, a lusty
babe, ruddy with mountain air, asleep in its wicker cradle on her back.
Thus laden they were to descend the Gemmi Rocks, and seemed to think it
no hardship, returning us chearful looks while we noticed the happy
burthens which they carried. Those peasant travellers out of sight, we
go on over the same rocky ground, snowy pikes and craggy eminences still
bounding the prospect. But ere long we approach the neighbourhood of
trees, and overlooking a long smooth level covered with poor yellowish
grass, saw at a distance, in the centre of the level, a group of
Travellers of a different kind--a party of gentry, male and female, on
mules. On meeting I spoke to the two Ladies in English, by way of trying
their nation, and was pleased at being answered in the same tongue. The
lawn here was prettily embayed, like a lake, among little eminences
covered with dwarf trees, aged or blighted; thence, onward to another
open space, where was an encampment of cattle sheds, the large plain
spotted with heaps of stones at irregular distances.... The turf was
very poor, yet so lavishly overspread with close-growing flowers it
reminded us of a Persian Carpet. The _silver_ thistle, as we then named
it, had a singularly beautiful effect; a glistering star lying on the
ground, as if enwrought upon it. An avalanche had covered the surface
with stones many years ago, and many more will it require for nature,
aided by the mountaineers' industry, to restore the soil to its former
fertility. On approaching the destined termination of our descent, we
were led among thickets of Alpine Shrubs, a rich covering of
berry-bearing plants over-spreading the ground. We followed the ridge of
this wildly beautiful tract, and it brought us to the brink of a
precipice. On our right, when we looked into the savage valley of
Gastron--upwards toward its head, and downwards to the point where the
Gastron joins the Kandor, their united streams thence continuing a
tumultuous course to the Lake of Thun. The head of the _Kandor Thal_ was
concealed from us, to our left, by the ridge of the hill on which we
stood. By going about a mile further along the ridge to the brow of its
northern extremity, we might have seen the junction of the two rivers,
but were fearful of being overtaken by darkness in descending the Gemmi,
and were, indeed, satisfied with the prospect already gained. The river
Gastron winds in tumult over a stony channel, through the apparently
level area of a grassless Vale, buried beneath stupendous mountains--not
a house or hut to be seen. A roaring sound ascended to us on the
eminence so high above the Vale. How _awful_ the tumult when the River
carries along with it the spring tide of melted snow! We had long viewed
in our journey a snow-covered pike, in stateliness and height surpassing
all the other eminences. The whole mass of the mountain now appeared
before us, on the same side of the Gastron vale on which we were. It
seemed very near to us, and as if a part of its base rose from that
vale. We could hardly believe our Guide when he told us that pike was
one of the summits of the Jungfrau, took out maps and books, and found
it could be no other mountain. I never before had a conception of the
space covered by the bases of these enormous piles. After lingering as
long as time would allow, we began to remeasure our steps, thankful for
the privilege of again feeling ourselves in the neighbourhood of the
Jungfrau, and of looking upon those heights that border the Lake of
Thun, at the feet of which we had first entered among the inner windings
of Switzerland. Our journey back to the Chalet was not less pleasant
than in the earlier part of the day. The Guide, hurrying on before us,
roused the large house-dog to give us a welcoming bark, which echoed
round the mountains like the tunable voices of a full pack of hounds--a
heart-stirring concert in that silent place where no waters were heard
at that time--no tinkling of cattle-bells; indeed, the barren soil
offers small temptation for wandering cattle to linger there. In a few
weeks our rugged path would be closed up with snow, the hut untenanted
for the winter, and not a living creature left to rouse the
echoes--echoes which our Bard would not suffer to die with us." (From
Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. ii.)--ED.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 547: 1837.
As e'er did ring ... 1822.
]
[Footnote 548: 1827.
... of a single deed, 1822.
]
FOOTNOTES: