355. _The Pilgrim Fathers_. [Sonnet XIII.]
American episcopacy, in union with the church in England, strictly
belongs to the general subject; and I here make my acknowledgments to my
American friends, Bishop Doane, and Mr. Henry Reed of Philadelphia, for
having suggested to me the propriety of adverting to it, and pointed out
the virtues and intellectual qualities of Bishop White, which so
eminently fitted him for the great work he undertook. Bishop White was
consecrated at Lambeth, Feb. 4, 1787, by Archbishop Moor; and before his
long life was closed, twenty-six bishops had been consecrated in
America, by himself. For his character and opinions, see his own
numerous Works, and a 'Sermon in commemoration of him, by George
Washington Doane, Bishop of New Jersey.'
356. _The Clergyman_.
'A genial hearth----
And a refined rusticity, belong
To the neat mansion.' [Sonnet XVIII. ll. 1-3.]
Among the benefits arising, as Mr. Coleridge has well observed, from a
Church Establishment of endowments corresponding with the wealth of the
country to which it belongs, may be reckoned as eminently important, the
examples of civility and refinement which the Clergy stationed at
intervals, afford to the whole people. The Established clergy in many
parts of England have long been, as they continue to be, the principal
bulwark against barbarism, and the link which unites the sequestered
peasantry with the intellectual advancement of the age. Nor is it below
the dignity of the subject to observe, that their taste, as acting upon
rural residences and scenery often furnishes models which country
gentlemen, who are more at liberty to follow the caprices of fashion,
might profit by. The precincts of an old residence must be treated by
ecclesiastics with respect, both from prudence and necessity. I remember
being much pleased, some years ago, at Rose Castle, the rural seat of
the See of Carlisle, with a style of garden and architecture, which, if
the place had belonged to a wealthy layman, would no doubt have been
swept away. A parsonage-house generally stands not far from the church;
this proximity imposes favourable restraints, and sometimes suggests an
affecting union of the accommodations and elegances of life with the
outward signs of piety and mortality. With pleasure I recall to mind a
happy instance of this in the residence of an old and much-valued Friend
in Oxfordshire. The house and church stand parallel to each other, at a
small distance; a circular lawn or rather grass-plot, spreads between
them; shrubs and trees curve from each side of the dwelling, veiling,
but not hiding, the church. From the front of this dwelling, no part of
the burial-ground is seen; but as you wind by the side of the shrubs
towards the steeple-end of the church, the eye catches a single, small,
low, monumental headstone, moss-grown, sinking into, and gently
inclining towards the earth. Advance, and the churchyard, populous and
gay with glittering tombstones, opens upon the view. This humble and
beautiful parsonage called forth a tribute, for which see the seventh of
the 'Miscellaneous Sonnets,' Part III.
357. _Rush-bearing_. [Sonnet XXXII.]
This is still continued in many churches in Westmoreland. It takes place
in the month of July, when the floor of the stalls is strewn with fresh
rushes; and hence it is called the 'Rush-bearing.'
358. _George Dyer_.
'Teaching us to forget them or forgive.' [Sonnet XXXV. l. 10.]
This is borrowed from an affecting passage in Mr. George Dyer's History
of Cambridge.
359. _Apprehension_.
----'had we, like them, endured
Sore stress of apprehension.' [Sonnet XXXVII. l. 6.]
See Burnet, who is unusually animated on this subject; the east wind, so
anxiously expected and prayed for, was called the 'Protestant wind.'
360. _The Cross_.
'Yet will we not conceal the precious Cross,
Like men ashamed.' [Sonnet XL. ll. 9-10.]
The Lutherans have retained the Cross within their churches: it is to be
regretted that we have not done the same.
361. _Monte Rosa_.
Or like the Alpine Mount, that takes its name
From roseate hues,' &c. [Sonnet XLVI. ll. 5-6.]
Some say that Monte Rosa takes its name from a belt of rock at its
summit--a very unpoetical and scarcely a probable supposition.
XV. 'YARROW REVISITED,' AND OTHER POEMS.
COMPOSED (TWO EXCEPTED) DURING A TOUR IN SCOTLAND, AND ON THE ENGLISH
BORDER, IN THE AUTUMN OF 1831.
362. _Dedication_.
TO SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ.
As a testimony of friendship, and acknowledgment of intellectual
obligations, these Memorials are affectionately inscribed.
Rydal Mount, Dec. 11, 1834.
The following stanzas ['Yarrow Revisited'] are a memorial of a day
passed with Sir Walter Scott, and other friends, visiting the banks of
the Yarrow under his guidance, immediately before his departure from
Abbotsford for Naples.
The title 'Yarrow Revisited' will stand in no need of explanation, for
Readers acquainted with the Author's previous poems suggested by that
celebrated stream.
363. *_Yarrow Revisited_.
I first became acquainted with this great and amiable man (Sir Walter
Scott) in the year 1803, when my sister and I, making a tour in
Scotland, were hospitably received by him in Lasswade, upon the banks of
the Esk, where he was then living. We saw a good deal of him in the
course of the following week. The particulars are given in my sister's
journal of that tour.
(2) *_Ibid._
In the autumn of 1831, my daughter and I set off from Rydal to visit Sir
Walter Scott, before his departure for Italy. This journey had been
delayed, by an inflammation in my eyes, till we found that the time
appointed for his leaving home would be too near for him to receive us
without considerable inconvenience. Nevertheless, we proceeded, and
reached Abbotsford on Monday. I was then scarcely able to lift up my
eyes to the light. How sadly changed did I find him from the man I had
seen so healthy, gay, and hopeful a few years before, when he said at
the inn at Paterdale, in my presence, his daughter Anne also being
there, with Mr. Lockhart, my own wife and daughter, and Mr. Quillinan,
'I mean to live till I am eighty, and shall write as long as I live.'
Though we had none of us the least thought of the cloud of misfortune
which was then going to break upon his head, I was startled, and almost
shocked, at that bold saying, which could scarcely be uttered by such a
man, sanguine as he was, without a momentary forgetfulness of the
instability of human life. But to return to Abbotsford. The inmates and
guests we found there were Sir Walter, Major Scott, Anne Scott, and Mr.
and Mrs. Lockhart; Mr. Liddell, his lady and brother, and Mr. Allan, the
painter, and Mr. Laidlaw, a very old friend of Sir Walter's. One of
Burns's sons, an officer in the Indian service, had left the house a day
or two before, and had kindly expressed his regret that he could not
wait my arrival, a regret that I may truly say was mutual. In the
evening, Mr. and Mrs. Liddell sang, and Mrs. Lockhart chaunted old
ballads to her harp; and Mr. Allan, hanging over the back of a chair,
told and acted odd stories in a humorous way. With this exhibition, and
his daughter's singing, Sir Walter was much amused, and, indeed, were we
all, as far as circumstances would allow. But what is most worthy of
mention is the admirable demeanour of Major Scott during that
evening.[6] He had much to suffer from the sight of his father's
infirmities and from the great change that was about to take place at
the residence he had built, and where he had long lived in so much
prosperity and happiness. But what struck me most was the patient
kindness with which he supported himself under the many fretful
expressions that his sister Anne addressed to him or uttered in his
hearing, and she, poor thing, as mistress of that house, had been
subject, after her mother's death, to a heavier load of care and
responsibility, and greater sacrifices of time, than one of such a
constitution of body and mind was able to bear. Of this Dora and I were
made so sensible, that as soon as we had crossed the Tweed on our
departure, we gave vent at the same moment to our apprehensions that her
brain would fail and she would go out of her mind, or that she would
sink under the trials she had passed and those which awaited her.
[6] In pencil--This is a mistake, dear Father. It was the following
evening, when the Liddells were gone, and only ourselves and Mr. Allan
present.
On Tuesday morning, Sir Walter Scott accompanied us, and most of the
party, to Newark Castle, on the _Yarrow_. When we alighted from the
carriages, he walked pretty stoutly, and had great pleasure in
revisiting these his favourite haunts. Of that excursion, the verses,
'Yarrow Revisited' are a memorial. Notwithstanding the romance that
pervades Sir Walter's works, and attaches to many of his habits, there
is too much pressure of fact for these verses to harmonise, as much as I
could wish, with the two preceding poems. On our return in the
afternoon, we had to cross the Tweed, directly opposite Abbotsford. The
wheels of our carriage grated upon the pebbles in the bed of the stream,
that there flows somewhat rapidly. A rich, but sad light, of rather a
purple than a golden hue, was spread over the Eildon Hills at that
moment; and, thinking it probable that it might be the last time Sir
Walter would cross the stream, I was not a little moved, and expressed
some of my feelings in the sonnet beginning,
'A trouble, not of clouds,' &c.
At noon on Thursday we left Abbotsford, and on the morning of that day,
Sir Walter and I had a serious conversation, _tÍte-‡-tÍte_, when he
spoke with gratitude of the happy life which, upon the whole, he had
led. He had written in my daughter's album, before he came into the
breakfast-room that morning, a few stanzas addressed to her; and while
putting the book into her hand, in his own Study, standing by his desk,
he said to her in my presence, 'I should not have done any thing of this
kind, but for your father's sake; they are probably the last verses I
shall ever write.' They show how much his mind was impaired; not by the
strain of thought, but by the execution, some of the lines being
imperfect, and one stanza wanting corresponding rhymes. One letter, the
initial S., had been omitted in the spelling of his own name. In this
interview, also, it was that, upon my expressing a hope of his health
being benefited by the climate of the country to which he was going, and
by the interest he would take in the classic remembrances of Italy, he
made use of the quotation from 'Yarrow Revisited,' as recorded by me in
the 'Musings at Aquapendente,' six years afterwards.
Mr. Lockhart has mentioned in his life of him, what I heard from several
quarters while abroad, both at Rome and elsewhere, that little seemed to
interest him but what he could collect or heard of the fugitive Stuarts,
and their adherents who had followed them into exile. Both the 'Yarrow
Revisited' and the 'Sonnet' were sent him before his departure from
England. Some further particulars of the conversations which occurred
during this visit I should have set down, had they not been already
accurately recorded by Mr. Lockhart.
364. *_A Place of Burial in the South of Scotland_. [III.]
Similar places for burial are not unfrequent in Scotland. The one that
suggested this sonnet lies on the banks of a small stream, called the
Wauchope, that flows into the Esk near Langholme. Mickle, who, as it
appears from his poem on Sir Martin, was not without genuine poetic
feelings, was born and passed his boyhood in this neighbourhood, under
his father, who was a minister of the Scotch Kirk. The Esk, both above
and below Langholme, flows through a beautiful country; and the two
streams of the Wauchope and the Ewes, which join it near that place, are
such as a pastoral poet would delight in.
365. *_On the Sight of a Manse in the South of Scotland_. [IV.]
The manses in Scotland, and the gardens and grounds about them, have
seldom that attractive appearance which is common about our English
parsonages, even when the clergyman's income falls below the average of
the Scotch minister's. This is not merely owing to the one country being
poor in comparison with the other, but arises rather out of the equality
of their benefices, so that no one has enough to spare for decorations
that might serve as an example for others, whereas with us the taste of
the richer incumbent extends its influence more or less to the poorest.
After all, in these observations, the surface only of the matter is
touched. I once heard a conversation, in which the Roman Catholic
religion was decried on account of its abuses: 'You cannot deny,
however,' said a lady of the party, repeating an expression used by
Charles II., 'that it is the religion of a gentleman.' It may be left to
the Scotch themselves to determine how far this observation applies to
the [religion] of their Kirk; while it cannot be denied [that] if it is
wanting in that characteristic quality, the aspect of common life, so
far as concerns its beauty, must suffer. Sincere Christian piety may be
thought not to stand in need of refinement or studied ornament, but
assuredly it is ever ready to adopt them, when they fall within its
notice, as means allow: and this observation applies not only to
manners, but to everything that a Christian (truly so in spirit)
cultivates and gathers round him, however humble his social condition.
366. *_Composed in Roslin Chapel during a Storm_. [V.]
We were detained, by incessant rain and storm, at the small inn near
Roslin Chapel, and I passed a great part of the day pacing to and fro in
this beautiful structure, which, though not used for public service, is
not allowed to go to ruin. Here this sonnet was composed, and [I shall
be fully satisfied] if it has at all done justice to the feeling which
the place and the storm raging without inspired. I was as a prisoner. A
Painter delineating the interior of the chapel and its minute features,
under such circumstances, would have no doubt found his time agreeably
shortened. But the movements of the mind must be more free while dealing
with words than with lines and colours. Such, at least, was then, and
has been on many other occasions, my belief; and as it is allotted to
few to follow both arts with success, I am grateful to my own calling
for this and a thousand other recommendations which are denied to that
of the Painter.
367. *_The Trosachs_. [VI.]
As recorded in my Sister's Journal, I had first seen the Trosachs in her
and Coleridge's company. The sentiment that runs through this sonnet was
natural to the season in which I again saw this beautiful spot; but
this, and some other sonnets that follow, were coloured by the
remembrance of my recent visit to Sir Walter Scott, and the melancholy
errand on which he was going.
368. *_Composed in the Glen of Lock Etive_. [VIII.]
'That make the patriot spirit.'
It was mortifying to have frequent occasions to observe the bitter
hatred of the lower orders of the Highlanders to their superiors: love
of country seemed to have passed into its opposite. Emigration was the
only relief looked to with hope.
369. _Eagles: composed at Dunollie Castle in the Bay of Oban_. [IX.]
The last I saw was on the wing, off the promontory of Fairhead, county
of Antrim. I mention this, because, though my tour in Ireland, with Mr.
Marshall and his son, was made many years ago, this allusion to the
eagle is the only image supplied by it to the poetry I have since
written. We travelled through the country in October; and to the
shortness of the days, and the speed with which we travelled (in a
carriage-and-four), may be ascribed this want of notices, in my verse,
of a country so interesting. The deficiency I am somewhat ashamed of,
and it is the more remarkable, as contrasted with my Scotch and
continental tours, of which are to be found in these volumes so many
memorials.
370. *_In the Sound of Mull_. [X.]
Touring late in the season in Scotland is an uncertain speculation. We
were detained a week by rain at Bunaw, on Loch Etive, in a vain hope
that the weather would clear up, and allow me to show my daughter the
beauties of Glencoe. Two days we were at the Isle of Mull, on a visit to
Major Campbell; but it rained incessantly, and we were obliged to give
up our intention of going to Staffa. The rain pursued us to Tyndrum,
where the next sonnet was composed in a storm.
371. '_Shepherds of Etive Glen_.' [X.]
In Gaelic--Buachaill Eite.
372. _Highland Broach_. [XV.]
On ascending a hill that leads from Loch Awe towards Inverary, I fell
into conversation with a woman of the humbler class, who wore one of
these Highland broaches. I talked with her about it, and upon parting
with her, when I said, with a kindness I truly felt, 'May the broach
continue in your family for many generations to come, as you have
already possessed it,' she thanked me most becomingly, and seemed not a
little moved. The exact resemblance which the old broach (still in use,
though rarely met with among the Highlanders) bears to the Roman Fibula
must strike every one, and concurs, with the plaid and kilt, to recall
to mind the communication which the ancient Romans had with this remote
country.
[Note.--How much the Broach is sometimes prized by persons in humble
stations may be gathered from an occurrence mentioned to me by a female
friend. She had an opportunity of benefiting a poor old woman in her own
hut, who, wishing to make a return, said to her daughter in Erse, in a
tone of plaintive earnestness, 'I would give anything I have, but I
_hope_ she does not wish for my Broach!' and uttering these words she
put her hand upon the Broach which fastened her kerchief, and which she
imagined had attracted the eye of her benefactress.]
373. _The Brownie_. [XVI.]
Upon a small island not far from the head of Loch Lomond, are some
remains of an ancient building, which was for several years the abode of
a solitary Individual, one of the last survivors of the clan of
Macfarlane, once powerful in that neighbourhood. Passing along the shore
opposite this island in the year 1814, the Author learned these
particulars, and that this person then living there had acquired the
appellation of 'The Brownie.' See 'The Brownie's Cell' ['Memorials of a
Tour in Scotland, 1814,' I.], to which the following is a sequel.
374. *_Bothwell Castle_. [XVIII.]
In my Sister's Journal is an account of Bothwell Castle as it appeared
to us at that time.
375. *_The Avon: a Feeder of the Avon_. [XX. l. 2.]
'Yet is it one that other rivulets bear.'
There is the Shakspeare Avon, the Bristol Avon, the one that flows by
Salisbury, and a small river in Wales, I believe, bear the name; Avon
being, in the ancient tongue, the general name for river.
376. *_Suggested by a View from an Eminence in Inglewood Forest_.
[XXI.]
The extensive forest of Inglewood has been enclosed within my memory. I
was well acquainted with it in its ancient state. The Hartshorn tree,
mentioned in the next sonnet, was one of its remarkable objects, as well
as another tree that grew upon an eminence not far from Penrith. It was
single and conspicuous, and, being of a round shape, though it was
universally known to be a 'sycamore,' it was always called the 'Round
Thorn,' so difficult is it to chain fancy down to fact.
377. _Hart's-Horn Tree, near Penrith_. [XXII.]
[After a quotation from Nicholson and Burns's History of Westmoreland
and Cumberland.] The tree has now disappeared, but I well remember its
imposing appearance as it stood, in a decayed state, by the side of the
high road leading from Penrith to Appleby. The whole neighbourhood
abounds in interesting traditions and vestiges of antiquity, viz.,
Julian's Bower; Brougham and Penrith Castles; Penrith Beacon, and the
curious remains in Penrith Churchyard; Arthur's Round Table, and, close
by, Maybrough; the excavation, called the Giant's Cave, on the banks of
the Emont; Long Meg and her daughters, near Eden, &c., &c.
378. _Fancy and Tradition_. [XXIII.]
Suggested by the recollection of Juliana's bower and other traditions
connected with this ancient forest.
379. _Countess' Pillar_. [XXIV.]
On the road-side between Penrith and Appleby there stands a pillar with
the following inscription:--
'This pillar was erected in the year 1656, by Anne Countess Dowager
of Pembroke, &c. for a memorial of her last parting with her pious
mother, Margaret Countess Dowager of Cumberland, on the 2d April,
1616; in memory whereof she hath left an annuity of £4, to be
distributed to the poor of the parish of Brougham, every 2d day of
April for ever, upon the stone table placed hard by. _Laus Deo_!'
* * * * *
XVI. EVENING VOLUNTARIES.
380. _Lines composed on a high part of the coast of Cumberland, Easter
Sunday, April 7th, the Author's sixty-third birthday_. [II.]
The lines were composed on the road between Moresby and Whitehaven,
while I was on a visit to my son, then rector of Moresby. This
succession of Voluntaries, with the exception of the 8th and 9th,
originated in the concluding lines of the last paragraph of this poem.
With this coast I have been familiar from my earliest childhood, and
remember being struck for the first time by the town and port of
Whitehaven, and the white waves breaking against its quays and piers, as
the whole came into view from the top of the high ground down which the
road,--which has since been altered,--then descended abruptly. My
sister, when she first heard the voice of the sea from this point, and
beheld the scene spread before her, burst into tears. Our family then
lived at Cockermouth, and this fact was often mentioned among us as
indicating the sensibility for which she was so remarkable.
381. *_By the Sea-side_. [III.]
These lines were suggested during my residence under my son's roof at
Moresby on the coast near Whitehaven, at the time when I was composing
those verses among the Evening Voluntaries that have reference to the
Sea. In some future edition I purpose to place it among that class of
poems. It was in that neighbourhood I first became acquainted with the
ocean and its appearances and movements. My infancy and early childhood
were passed at Cockermouth, about eight miles from the coast, and I well
remember that mysterious awe with which I used to listen to anything
said about storms and shipwrecks. Sea-shells of many descriptions were
common in the town, and I was not a little surprised when I heard Mr.
Landor had denounced me as a Plagiarist from himself for having
described a boy applying a sea-shell to his ear, and listening to it for
intimation of what was going on in its native element. This I had done
myself scores of times, and it was a belief among us that we could know
from the sound whether the tide was ebbing or flowing.
382. _Not in the lucid intervals of life_. [IV.]
The lines following, 'Nor do words,' &c., were written with Lord Byron's
character as a poet before me, and that of others among his
contemporaries, who wrote under like influences.
383. _The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned hill_. [VII.]
Composed by the side of Grasmere Lake. The mountains that enclose the
vale, especially towards Easedale, are most favourable to the
reverberation of sound: there is a passage in 'The Excursion,' towards
the close of the 4th book, where the voice of the raven in flight is
traced through the modifications it undergoes, as I have often heard it
in that vale and others of this district.
384. _Impromptu_. [VIII.]
This Impromptu appeared, many years ago, among the Author's Poems, from
which, in subsequent editions, it was excluded. It is reprinted at the
request of the Friend in whose presence the lines were thrown off.
384a. *_Ibid._
Reprinted at the request of my Sister, in whose presence the lines were
thrown off.
385. *_Composed upon an Evening of extraordinary Splendour and Beauty_
[IX.]
Felt, and in a great measure composed, upon the little mount in front of
our abode at Rydal. In concluding my notices of this class of poems it
may be as well to observe, that among the Miscellaneous Sonnets are a
few alluding to morning impressions, which might be read with mutual
benefit in connection with these Evening Voluntaries. See for example
that one on Westminster Bridge, that on May 2d, on the song of the
Thrush, and the one beginning 'While beams of orient light.'
386. _Alston: American Painter_.
'Wings at my shoulder seem to play' (IX. iii. l. 9).
In these lines I am under obligation to the exquisite picture of
'Jacob's Dream,' by Mr. Alston, now in America. It is pleasant to make
this public acknowledgment to a man of genius, whom I have the honour to
rank among my friends.
387. _Mountain-ridges_. [_Ibid._ IV. l. 20.]
The multiplication of mountain-ridges, described at the commencement of
the third stanza of this Ode as a kind of Jacob's Ladder, leading to
Heaven, is produced either by watery vapours or sunny haze; in the
present instance by the latter cause. Allusions to the Ode, entitled
'Intimations of Immortality,' pervade the last stanza of the foregoing
Poem.
XVII. POEMS COMPOSED OR SUGGESTED DURING A TOUR IN THE SUMMER OF 1833.
388. _Advertisement_.
Having been prevented by the lateness of the season, in 1831, from
visiting Staffa and Iona, the author made these the principal objects of
a short tour in the summer of 1833, of which the following series of
poems is a Memorial. The course pursued was down the Cumberland river
Derwent, and to Whitehaven; thence (by the Isle of Man, where a few days
were passed,) up the Frith of Clyde to Greenock, then to Oban, Staffa,
Iona, and back towards England by Loch Awe, Inverary, Loch Goil-head,
Greenock, and through parts of Renfrewshire, Ayrshire, and Dumfriesshire
to Carlisle, and thence up the River Eden, and homeward by Ullswater.
389. _The Greta_.
'But if thou, like Cocytus,' &c. (IV. l. 5).
Many years ago, when I was at Greta Bridge, in Yorkshire, the hostess of
the inn, proud of her skill in etymology, said, that 'the name of the
river was taken from the _bridge_, the form of which, as every one must
notice, exactly resembled a great A.' Dr. Whitaker has derived it from
the word of common occurrence in the north of England, '_to greet_;'
signifying to lament aloud, mostly with weeping; a conjecture rendered
more probable from the stony and rocky channel of both the Cumberland
and Yorkshire rivers. The Cumberland Greta, though it does not, among
the country people, take up _that_ name till within three miles of its
disappearance in the river Derwent, may be considered as having its
source in the mountain cove of Wythburn, and flowing through Thirlmere,
the beautiful features of which lake are known only to those who,
travelling between Grasmere and Keswick, have quitted the main road in
the vale of Wythburn, and, crossing over to the opposite side of the
lake, have proceeded with it on the right hand.
The channel of the Greta, immediately above Keswick, has, for the
purposes of building, been in a great measure cleared of the immense
stones which, by their concussion in high floods, produced the loud and
awful noises described in the sonnet.
'The scenery upon this river,' says Mr. Southey in his Colloquies,
'where it passes under the woody side of Latrigg, is of the finest and
most rememberable kind:
----"ambiguo lapsu refluitque fluitque,
Occurrensque sibi venturas aspicit undas."'
390. _Brigham Church_.
'By hooded votaresses,' &c. (VIII. l. 11).
Attached to the church of Brigham was formerly a chantry, which held a
moiety of the manor; and in the decayed parsonage some vestiges of
monastic architecture are still to be seen.
391. *_Nun's Well, Brigham_. [VIII.]
So named from the Religious House which stood close by. I have rather an
odd anecdote to relate of the Nun's Well. One day the landlady of a
public house, a field's length from it, on the road-side, said to me,
'You have been to see the Nun's Well, sir.' 'The Nun's Well! What is
that?' said the postman, who in his royal livery stopt his mail-car at
the door. The landlady and I explained to him what the name meant, and
what sort of people the nuns were. A countryman who was standing by
rather tipsy stammered out, 'Ay, those Nuns were good people; they are
gone, but we shall soon have them back again.' The Reform mania was just
then at its height.
392. *_To a Friend_. [IX.]
'Pastor and Patriot.'
My son John, who was then building a parsonage on his small living at
Brigham.
393. _Mary Queen of Scots landing at Workington_. [X.]
'The fears and impatience of Mary were so great,' says Robertson, 'that
she got into a fisher-boat, and with about twenty attendants landed at
Workington, in Cumberland; and thence she was conducted with many marks
of respect to Carlisle.' The apartment in which the Queen had slept at
Workington Hall (where she was received by Sir Henry Curwen as became
her rank and misfortunes) was long preserved, out of respect to her
memory, as she had left it; and one cannot but regret that some
necessary alterations in the mansion could not be effected without its
destruction.
394. *_Mary Queen of Scots_.[X.]
'Bright as a star.'
I will mention for the sake of the friend who is writing down these
Notes that it was among the fine Scotch firs near Ambleside, and
particularly those near Green Bank, that I have over and over again
paused at the sight of this image. Long may they stand to afford a like
gratification to others! This wish is not uncalled for--several of their
brethren having already disappeared.
N.B. The Poem of St. Bees to follow at this place.
395. _St. Bees and Charlotte Smith_. [XI.]
St. Bees' Heads, anciently called the Cliff of Baruth, are a conspicuous
sea-mark for all vessels sailing in the N.E. parts of the Irish Sea. In
a bay, one side of which is formed by the southern headland, stands the
village of St. Bees; a place distinguished, from very early times, for
its religious and scholastic foundations.
'St. Bees,' say Nicholson and Burns, 'had its name from Bega, an holy
woman from Ireland, who is said to have founded here, about the year of
our Lord 650, a small monastery, where afterwards a church was built in
memory of her.
'The aforesaid religious house, being destroyed by the Danes, was
restored by William de Meschiens, son of Ranulph, and brother of Ranulph
de Meschiens, first Earl of Cumberland after the Conquest; and made a
cell of a prior and six Benedictine monks to the Abbey of St. Mary at
York.'
Several traditions of miracles, connected with the foundation of the
first of these religious houses, survive among the people of the
neighbourhood; one of which is alluded to in these Stanzas; and another,
of a somewhat bolder and more peculiar character, has furnished the
subject of a spirited poem by the Rev. R. Parkinson, M.A., late Divinity
Lecturer of St. Bees' College, and now Fellow of the Collegiate Church
of Manchester.
After the dissolution of the monasteries, Archbishop Grindal founded a
free school at St. Bees, from which the counties of Cumberland and
Westmoreland have derived great benefit; and recently, under the
patronage of the Earl of Lonsdale, a college has been established there
for the education of ministers for the English Church. The old
Conventual Church has been repaired under the superintendence of the
Rev. Dr. Ainger, the Head of the College; and is well worthy of being
visited by any strangers who might be led to the neighbourhood of this
celebrated spot.
The form of stanza in this Poem, and something in the style of
versification, are adopted from the 'St. Monica,' a poem of much beauty
upon a monastic subject, by Charlotte Smith: a lady to whom English
verse is under greater obligations than are likely to be either
acknowledged or remembered. She wrote little, and that little
unambitiously, but with true feeling for rural Nature, at a time when
Nature was not much regarded by English Poets; for in point of time her
earlier writings preceded, I believe, those of Cowper and Burns.
396. _Requiems_.
'Are not, in sooth, their Requiems sacred ties?' (XI. l. 73.)
I am aware that I am here treading upon tender ground; but to the
intelligent reader I feel that no apology is due. The prayers of
survivors, during passionate grief for the recent loss of relatives and
friends, as the object of those prayers could no longer be the suffering
body of the dying, would naturally be ejaculated for the souls of the
departed; the barriers between the two worlds dissolving before the
power of love and faith. The ministers of religion, from their habitual
attendance upon sick-beds, would be daily witnesses of these benign
results; and hence would be strongly tempted to aim at giving to them
permanence, by embodying them in rites and ceremonies, recurring at
stated periods. All this, as it was in course of nature, so was it
blameless, and even praiseworthy; since some of its effects, in that
rude state of society, could not but be salutary. No reflecting person,
however, can view without sorrow the abuses which rose out of thus
formalising sublime instincts and disinterested movements of passion,
and perverting them into means of gratifying the ambition and rapacity
of the priesthood. But, while we deplore and are indignant at these
abuses, it would be a great mistake if we imputed the origin of the
offices to prospective selfishness on the part of the monks and clergy;
_they_ were at first sincere in their sympathy, and in their degree
dupes rather of their own creed than artful and designing men. Charity
is, upon the whole, the safest guide that we can take in judging our
fellow-men, whether of past ages or of the present time.
397. _Sir William Hillary_.
'And they are led by noble Hillary' (XV. l. 14).
The TOWER OF REFUGE, an ornament to Douglas Bay, was erected chiefly
through the humanity and zeal of Sir William Hillary; and he also was
the founder of the lifeboat establishment at that place; by which, under
his superintendence, and often by his exertions at the imminent hazard
of his own life, many seamen and passengers have been saved.
398. _Isle of Man_. [XVI. l. 14.]
The sea-water on the coast of the Isle of Man is singularly pure and
beautiful.
399. *_Isle of Man_. [XVII.]
My son William is here the person alluded to as saving the life of the
youth; and the circumstances were as mentioned in the Sonnet.
400. *_By a retired Mariner_. [XIX.]
Mary's brother Henry.
401. *_At Bala Sala_. [XX.]
A thankful refuge. Supposed to be written by a friend (Mr. Cookson) who
died there a few years after.
402. *_Tynwald Hill_.
Mr. Robinson and I walked the greater part of the way from Castle-Town
to Peel, and stopped some time at Tynwald Hill. My companions were an
elderly man, who in a muddy way (for he was tipsy) explained and
answered as far as he could my enquiries about the place and the
ceremonies held here. I found more agreeable company in some little
children, one of whom, upon my request, recited the Lord's Prayer to me,
and I helped her to a clearer understanding of it as well as I could;
but I was not at all satisfied with my own part. Hers was much better
done; and I am persuaded that, like other children, she knew more about
it than she was able to express, especially to a stranger.
403. _Snafell_.
'Off with you cloud, old Snafell' (Sonnet XXI. l. 9).
The summit of this mountain is well chosen by Cowley as the scene of the
'Vision,' in which the spectral angel discourses with him concerning the
government of Oliver Cromwell. 'I found myself,' says he, 'on the top of
that famous hill in the Island Mona, which has the prospect of three
great, and not long since most happy, kingdoms. As soon as ever I looked
upon them, they called forth the sad representation of all the sins and
all the miseries that had overwhelmed them these twenty years.' It is
not to be denied that the changes now in progress, and the passions, and
the way in which they work, strikingly resemble those which led to the
disasters the philosophic writer so feelingly bewails. God grant that
the resemblance may not become still more striking as months and years
advance!
404. _Eagle in Mosaic_. [Sonnet XXV.]
'On revisiting Dunolly Castle.'
This ingenious piece of workmanship, as I afterwards learned, had been
executed for their own amusement by some labourers employed about the
place.
405. *_In the Frith of Clyde_.--_Ailsa Crag during an eclipse of the
sun, July_ 17, 1833. [XXIII.]
The morning of the eclipse was exquisitely beautiful while we passed the
Crag, as described in the sonnet. On the deck of the steamboat were
several persons of the poor and labouring class; and I could not but be
struck with their cheerful talk with each other, while not one of them
seemed to notice the magnificent objects with which we were surrounded;
and even the phenomenon of the eclipse attracted but little of their
attention. Was it right not to regret this? They appeared to me,
however, so much alive in their own minds to their own concerns that I
could not but look upon it as a misfortune that they had little
perception for such pleasures as cannot be cultivated without ease and
leisure. Yet, if one surveys life in all its duties and relations, such
ease and leisure will not be found so enviable a privilege as it may at
first appear. Natural philosophy, painting, and poetry, and refined
taste, are no doubt great acquisitions to society; but among those who
dedicate themselves to such pursuits it is to be feared that few are as
happy and as consistent in the management of their lives as the class of
persons who at that time led me into this course of reflection. I do not
mean by this to be understood to derogate from intellectual pursuits,
for that would be monstrous. I say it in deep gratitude for this
compensation to those whose cares are limited to the necessities of
daily life. Among them, self-tormentors, so numerous in the higher
classes of society, are rare.
406. *_On the Frith of Clyde_.--_In a Steamboat_, [XXIV.]
The mountain outline on the north of this island [Arran], as seen from
the Frith of Clyde, is much the finest I have ever noticed in Scotland
or elsewhere.
407. '_There, said a Stripling_.' [XXXVII.]
Mosgiel was thus pointed out to me by a young man, on the top of the
coach on my way from Glasgow to Kilmarnock. It is remarkable, that
though Burns lived some time here, and during much the most productive
period of his poetical life, he nowhere adverts to the splendid
prospects stretching towards the sea, and bounded by the peaks of Arran
on one part, which in clear weather he must have had daily before his
eyes. Yet this is easily explained. In one of his poetical effusions he
speaks of describing 'fair Nature's face,' as a privilege on which he
sets a high value; nevertheless, natural appearances rarely take a lead
in his poetry. It is as a human being, eminently sensitive and
intelligent, and not as a poet clad in his priestly robes and carrying
the ensigns of sacerdotal office, that he interests and affects us.
Whether he speaks of rivers, hills, and woods, it is not so much on
account of the properties with which they are absolutely endowed, as
relatively to local patriotic remembrances and associations, or as they
are ministerial to personal feelings, especially those of love, whether
happy or otherwise; yet it is not _always_ so. Soon after we had passed
Mosgiel Farm we crossed the Ayr, murmuring and winding through a narrow
woody hollow. His line,
'Auld hermit Ayr staw thro' his woods,' [=stole]
came at once to my mind, with Irwin, Lugar, Ayr, and Doon, Ayrshire
streams over which he breathes a sigh, as being unnamed in song; and,
surely, his own attempts to make them known were as successful as his
heart could desire.
408. *_Written on a Blank Leaf of Macpherson's 'Ossian_.' [XXVII]
This poem should, for variety's sake, take its place among the itinerary
Sonnets on one of the Scotch Tours.
409. _Cave of Staffa_. [XXIX.]
The reader may be tempted to exclaim, 'How came this and the two
following Sonnets to be written, after the dissatisfaction expressed in
the preceding one?' In fact, at the risk of incurring the reasonable
displeasure of the master of the steamboat, I returned to the cave, and
explored it under circumstances more favourable to those imaginative
impressions which it is so wonderfully fitted to make upon the mind.
410. _Ox-eyed Daisy_.
'Hope smiled when your nativity was cast,
Children of summer!' (XXXI. ll. 1-2.)
Upon the head of the columns which form the front of the cave, rests a
body of decomposed basaltic matter, which was richly decorated with that
large bright flower, the ox-eyed daisy. I had noticed the same flower
growing with profusion among the bold rocks on the western coast of the
Isle of Man; making a brilliant contrast with their black and gloomy
surfaces.
411. _Iona_. [XXXIII.]
The four last lines of this Sonnet are adapted from a well-known Sonnet
of Russel, as conveying my feeling better than any words of my own could
do.
412. _River Eden_, [XXXVIII.]
'Yet fetched from Paradise.'
It is to be feared that there is more of the poet than the sound
etymologist in this derivation of the name Eden. On the western coast of
Cumberland is a rivulet which enters the sea at Moresby, known also in
the neighbourhood by the name of Eden. May not the latter syllable come
from the word Dean, _a valley_? Langdale, near Ambleside, is by the
inhabitants called Langden. The former syllable occurs in the name
Emont, a principal feeder of the Eden; and the stream which flows, when
the tide is out, over Cartmel Sands, is called the Ea--eau,
French--aqua, Latin.
413. _Ibid._
'Nature gives thee flowers that have no rival amidst British bowers.'
This can scarcely be true to the letter; but without stretching the
point at all, I can say that the soil and air appear more congenial with
many upon the bank of this river than I have observed in any other parts
of Great Britain.
414. *_Monument of Mrs. Howard_. [XXXIX.]
Before this monument was put up in the chapel at Wetheral, I saw it in
the sculptor's studio. Nollekens, who, by the bye, was a strange and
grotesque figure that interfered much with one's admiration of his
works, showed me at the same time the various models in clay which he
had made one after another of the mother and her infant. The improvement
on each was surprising, and how so much grace, beauty, and tenderness
had come out of such a head I was sadly puzzled to conceive. Upon a
window-seat in his parlour lay two casts of faces; one of the Duchess of
Devonshire, so noted in her day, and the other of Mr. Pitt, taken after
his death--a ghastly resemblance, as these things always are, even when
taken from the living subject, and more ghastly in this instance (of Mr.
Pitt) from the peculiarity of the features. The heedless and apparently
neglectful manner in which the faces of these two persons were left--the
one so distinguished in London society, and the other upon whose
counsels and public conduct during a most momentous period depended the
fate of this great empire, and, perhaps, of all Europe--afforded a
lesson to which the dullest of casual visitors could scarcely be
insensible. It touched me the more because I had so often seen Mr. Pitt
upon his own ground at Cambridge and upon the floor of the House of
Commons.
415. _Nunnery_. [XLI.]
I became acquainted with the walks of Nunnery when a boy. They are
within easy reach of a day's pleasant excursion from the town of
Penrith, where I used to pass my summer holidays under the roof of my
maternal grandfather. The place is well worth visiting, tho' within
these few years its privacy, and therefore the pleasure which the scene
is so well fitted to give, has been injuriously affected by walks cut in
the rocks on that side the stream which had been left in its natural
state.
416. _Scene at Corby_. [XLII.]
'Canal, and Viaduct, and Railway tell!'
At Corby, a few miles below Nunnery, the Eden is crossed by a
magnificent viaduct; and another of these works is thrown over a deep
glen or ravine at a very short distance from the main stream.
417. *_Druidical Monument_. [XLIII.]
'A weight of awe not easy to be borne.'
The daughters of Long Meg, placed in a perfect circle eighty yards in
diameter, are seventy-two in number above ground; a little way out of
the circle stands Long Meg herself, a single stone, eighteen feet high.
When I first saw this monument, as I came upon it by surprise, I might
over-rate its importance as an object; but, though it will not bear a
comparison with Stonehenge, I must say, I have not seen any other
relique of those dark ages, which can pretend to rival it in singularity
and dignity of appearance.
418. *_Lowther_. [XLIV.]
'Cathedral pomp.'
It may be questioned whether this union was in the contemplation of the
Artist when he planned the edifice. However this might be, a Poet may be
excused for taking the view of the subject presented in this Sonnet.
419. _To the Earl of Lonsdale_. [XLV.]
This sonnet was written immediately after certain trials, which took
place at the Cumberland Assizes, when the Earl of Lonsdale, in
consequence of repeated and long-continued attacks upon his character,
through the local press, had thought it right to prosecute the
conductors and proprietors of three several journals. A verdict of libel
was given in one case; and, in the others, the prosecutions were
withdrawn, upon the individuals retracting and disavowing the charges,
expressing regret that they had been made, and promising to abstain from
the like in future.
420. *_The Somnambulist_. [XLVI.]
This poem might be dedicated to my friend Sir G. Beaumont and Mr. Rogers
jointly. While we were making an excursion together in this part of the
Lake District, we heard that Mr. Glover the artist, while lodging at
Lyulph's Tower, had been disturbed by a loud shriek, and upon rising he
learnt that it had come from a young woman in the house who was in the
habit of walking in her sleep. In that state she had gone down stairs,
and while attempting to open the outer door, either from some
difficulty, or the effect of the cold stone upon her feet, had uttered
the cry which alarmed him. It seemed to us all that this might serve as
a hint for a poem, and the story here told was constructed, and soon
after put into verse by me as it now stands.
[Note.--'Lyulph's Tower'--A pleasure-house built by the late Duke of
Norfolk upon the banks of Ullswater. Force is the word used in the Lake
District for Waterfall.]
XVIII. POEMS OF SENTIMENT AND REFLECTION.
421. _Expostulation and Reply_. [I.]
This poem is a favourite among the Quakers, as I have learnt on many
occasions. It was composed in front of the house at Alfoxden, in the
spring of 1798.
422. _The Tables turned_. [II.]
Composed at the same time [as Expostulation and Reply].
423. *_Lines written in early Spring_. [III.]
1798. Actually composed while I was sitting by the side of the brook
that runs down from the _Comb_, in which stands the village of Alford,
through the grounds of Alfoxden. It was a chosen resort of mine. The
brook fell down a sloping rock, so as to make a waterfall, considerable
for that country; and, across the pool below, had fallen a tree, an ash,
if I rightly remember, from which rose, perpendicularly, boughs in
search of the light intercepted by the deep shade above. The boughs bore
leaves of green, that for want of sunshine had faded into almost
lily-white; and from the underside of this natural sylvan bridge
depended long and beautiful tresses of ivy, which waved gently in the
breeze, that might, poetically speaking, be called the breath of the
waterfall. This motion varied, of course, in proportion to the power of
water in the brook. When, with dear friends, I revisited this spot,
after an interval of more than forty years, this interesting feature of
the scene was gone. To the owner of the place I could not but regret
that the beauty of this retired part of the grounds had not tempted him
to make it more accessible, by a path, not broad or obtrusive, but
sufficient for persons who love such scenes to creep along without
difficulty.
424. *_A Character_.
The principal features are taken from that of my friend Robert Jones.
425. *_To my Sister_. [V.]
Composed in front of Alfoxden House.
My little boy-messenger on this occasion was the son of Basil Montagu.
The larch mentioned in the first stanza was standing when I revisited
the place in May, 1841, more than forty years after. I was disappointed
that it had not improved in appearance, as to size, nor had it acquired
anything of the majesty of age, which, even though less perhaps than any
other tree, the larch sometimes does. A few score yards from this tree
grew, when we inhabited Alfoxden, one of the most remarkable beech-trees
ever seen. The ground sloped both towards and from it. It was of immense
size, and threw out arms that struck into the soil like those of the
banyan-tree, and rose again from it. Two of the branches thus inserted
themselves twice, which gave to each the appearance of a serpent moving
along by gathering itself up in folds. One of the large boughs of this
tree had been torn off by the wind before we left Alfoxden, but five
remained. In 1841 we could barely find the spot where the tree had
stood. So remarkable a production of nature could not have been wilfully
destroyed.
426. *_Simon Lee, the old Huntsman_. [VI.]
This old man had been huntsman to the Squires of Alfoxden, which, at the
time we occupied it, belonged to a minor. The old man's cottage stood
upon the Common, a little way from the entrance to Alfoxden Park. But
[in 1841] it had disappeared. Many other changes had taken place in the
adjoining village, which I could not but notice with a regret more
natural than well-considered. Improvements but rarely appear such to
those who after long intervals of time revisit places they have had much
pleasure in. It is unnecessary to add, the fact was as mentioned in the
poem; and I have, after an interval of forty-five years, the image of
the old man as fresh before my eyes as if I had seen him yesterday. The
expression when the hounds were out, 'I dearly love their voice,' was
word for word from his own lips.
427. *_Lines written in Germany_. 1798-9. [VII.]
'A plague,' &c.
A bitter winter it was when these verses were composed by the side of my
sister, in our lodgings, at a draper's house, in the romantic imperial
town of Goslar, on the edge of the Hartz Forest. In this town the German
Emperors of the Franconian line were accustomed to keep their court, and
it retains vestiges of ancient splendour. So severe was the cold of this
winter, that when we passed out of the parlour warmed by the stove, our
cheeks were struck by the air as by cold iron. I slept in a room over a
passage that was not ceiled. The people of the house used to say rather
unfeelingly, that they expected I should be frozen to death some night;
but with the protection of a pelisse lined with fur, and a dog's-skin
bonnet, such as was worn by the peasants, I walked daily on the
ramparts, or on a sort of public ground or garden, in which was a pond.
Here I had no companion but a kingfisher, a beautiful creature that
used to glance by me. I consequently became much attached to it. During
these walks I composed the poem that follows, 'The Poet's Epitaph.'
Foot-note.--The Reader must be apprised, that the Stoves in North
Germany generally have the impression of a gallopping horse upon them,
this being part of the Brunswick Arms.
428. *_To the Daisy_. [IX.]
This and the other poems addressed to the same flower were composed at
Town-End, Grasmere, during the earlier part of our residence there. I
have been censured for the last line but one, 'thy function
apostolical,' as being little less than profane. How could it be thought
so? The word is adopted with reference to its derivation, implying
something sent on a mission; and assuredly, this little flower,
especially when the subject of verse, may be regarded, in its humble
degree, as administering both to moral and to spiritual purposes.
429. _Matthew_. [X.]
In the school [of Hawkshead] is a tablet, on which are inscribed, in
gilt letters, the names of the several persons who have been
schoolmasters there since the foundation of the school, with the time at
which they entered upon and quitted their office. Opposite to one of
those names the Author wrote the following lines: 'If Nature,' &c.
430. *_Matthew_. [X.]
Such a tablet as is here spoken of continued to be preserved in
Hawkshead school, though the inscriptions were not brought down to our
time. This and other poems connected with Matthew would not gain by a
literal detail of facts. Like the wanderer in the 'Excursion,' this
schoolmaster was made up of several, both of his class and men of other
occupations. I do not ask pardon for what there is of untruth in such
verses, considered strictly as matters of fact. It is enough if, being
true and consistent in spirit, they move and teach in a manner not
unworthy of a Poet's calling.
431. *_Personal Talk_. [XIII.]
Written at Town-End. The last line but two stood at first, better and
more characteristically, thus:
'By my half-kitchen and half-parlour fire.'
My sister and I were in the habit of having the teakettle in our little
sitting-room; and we toasted the bread ourselves, which reminds me of a
little circumstance not unworthy of being set down among these minutiae.
Happening both of us to be engaged a few minutes one morning, when we
had a young prig of a Scotch lawyer to breakfast with us, my dear
sister, with her usual simplicity, put the toasting-fork with a slice of
bread into the hands of this Edinburgh genius. Our little book-case
stood on one side of the fire. To prevent loss of time, he took down a
book, and fell to reading, to the neglect of the toast, which was burnt
to a cinder. Many a time have we laughed at this circumstance and other
cottage simplicities of that day. By the bye, I have a spite at one of
this series of sonnets (I will leave the reader to discover which), as
having been the means of nearly putting off for ever our acquaintance
with dear Miss Fenwick, who has always stigmatised one line of it as
vulgar, and worthy only of having been composed by a country squire.
432. *_To the Spade of a Friend_. 1804. [XIV.]
This person was Thomas Wilkinson, a Quaker by religious profession; by
natural constitution of mind--or, shall I venture to say, by God's
grace? he was something better. He had inherited a small estate, and
built a house upon it, near Yanwath, upon the banks of the Emont. I have
heard him say that his heart used to beat, in his boyhood, when he heard
the sound of a drum and fife. Nevertheless, the spirit of enterprise in
him confined itself in tilling his ground, and conquering such obstacles
as stood in the way of its fertility. Persons of his religious
persuasion do now, in a far greater degree than formerly, attach
themselves to trade and commerce. He kept the old track. As represented
in this poem, he employed his leisure hours in shaping pleasant walks by
the side of his beloved river, where he also built something between a
hermitage and a summer-house, attaching to it inscriptions, after the
manner of Shenstone at his Leasowes. He used to travel from time to
time, partly from love of Nature, and partly with religious friends, in
the service of humanity. His admiration of genius in every department
did him much honour. Through his connection with the family in which
Edmund Burke was educated, he became acquainted with that great man, who
used to receive him with great kindness and condescension; and many
times have I heard Wilkinson speak of those interesting interviews. He
was honoured also by the friendship of Elizabeth Smith, and of Thomas
Clarkson and his excellent wife, and was much esteemed by Lord and Lady
Lonsdale, and every member of that family. Among his verses (he wrote
many), are some worthy of preservation; one little poem in particular,
upon disturbing, by prying curiosity, a bird while hatching her young in
his garden. The latter part of this innocent and good man's life was
melancholy. He became blind, and also poor, by becoming surety for some
of his relations. He was a bachelor. He bore, as I have often witnessed,
his calamities with unfailing resignation. I will only add, that while
working in one of his fields, he unearthed a stone of considerable size,
then another, and then two more; and observing that they had been placed
in order, as if forming the segment of a circle, he proceeded carefully
to uncover the soil, and brought into view a beautiful Druid's temple,
of perfect, though small dimensions. In order to make his farm more
compact, he exchanged this field for another, and, I am sorry to add,
the new proprietor destroyed this interesting relic of remote ages for
some vulgar purpose. The fact, so far as concerns Thomas Wilkinson, is
mentioned in the note on a sonnet on 'Long Meg and her Daughters.'
433. *_A Night Thought_. [XV.]
These verses were thrown off extempore upon leaving Mr. Luff's house at
Fox Ghyll one evening. The good woman is not disposed to look at the
bright side of things, and there happened to be present certain ladies
who had reached the point of life where _youth_ is ended, and who seemed
to contend with each other in expressing their dislike of the country
and the climate. One of them had been, heard to say she could not endure
a country where there was 'neither sunshine nor cavaliers.' [In pencil
on opposite page--Gossip.]
434. *_An Incident characteristic of a favourite Dog_. [XVI.]
This dog I knew well. It belonged to Mrs. Wordsworth's brother, Mr.
Thomas Hutchinson, who then lived at Sockburn-on-the-Tees, a beautiful
retired situation, where I used to visit him and his sisters before my
marriage. My sister and I spent many months there after my return from
Germany in 1799.
435. _Tribute to the Memory of the same Dog_. [XVII.]
Was written at the same time, 1805. The dog Music died, aged and blind,
by falling into a draw-well at Gallow Hill, to the great grief of the
family of the Hutchinsons, who, as has been before mentioned, had
removed to that place from Sockburn.
436. _Fidelity_. [XVIII.]
The young man whose death gave occasion to this poem was named Charles
Gough, and had come early in the Spring to Patterdale for the sake of
angling. While attempting to cross over Helvellyn to Grasmere he slipped
from a steep part of the rock where the ice was not thawed, and
perished. His body was discovered as described in this poem. Walter
Scott heard of the accident, and both he and I, without either of us
knowing that the other had taken up the subject, each wrote a poem in
admiration of the dog's fidelity. His contains a most beautiful stanza:
'How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber!
When the wind waved his garment how oft didst thou start!'
I will add that the sentiment in the last four lines of the last stanza
of my verses was uttered by a shepherd with such exactness, that a
traveller, who afterwards reported his account in print, was induced to
question the man whether he had read them, which he had not.
437. *_Ode to Duty_. [XIX.]
This Ode, written in 1805, is on the model of Gray's 'Ode to Adversity,'
which is copied from Horace's 'Ode to Fortune.'
Many and many a time have I been twitted by my wife and sister for
having forgotten this dedication of myself to the stern law-giver.
Transgressor indeed I have been, from hour to hour, from day to day; I
would fain hope however not more flagrantly or in a worse way than most
of my tuneful brethren. But these last words are in a wrong strain. We
should be rigorous to ourselves, and forbearing, if not indulgent, to
others, and if we make comparisons at all it ought to be with those who
have morally excelled us. [In pencil--But is not the first stanza of
Gray's from a chorus of Aeschylus? And is not Horace's Ode also modelled
on the Greek?]
438. *_Character of the Happy Warrior_. [XX.]
The course of the great war with the French naturally fixed one's
attention upon the military character; and, to the honour of our
country, there are many illustrious instances of the qualities that
constitute its highest excellence. Lord Nelson carried most of the
virtues that the trials he was exposed to in his department of the
service necessarily call forth and sustain, if they do not produce the
contrary vices. But his public life was stained with one great crime, so
that, though many passages of these lines were suggested by what was
generally known as excellent in his conduct, I have not been able to
connect his name with the poem as I could wish, or even to think of him
with satisfaction in reference to the idea of what a warrior ought to
be. For the sake of such of my friends as may happen to read this note I
will add, that many elements of the character here portrayed were found
in my brother John, who perished by shipwreck, as mentioned elsewhere.
His messmates used to call him 'the Philosopher;' from which it must be
inferred that the qualities and dispositions I allude to had not escaped
their notice. He often expressed his regret, after the war had continued
some time, that he had not chosen the Naval instead of the East India
Company's Service, to which his family connection had led him. He
greatly valued moral and religious instruction for youth, as tending to
make good sailors. The best, he used to say, came from Scotland; the
next to them from the north of England, especially from Westmoreland and
Cumberland, where, thanks to the piety and local attachments of our
ancestors, endowed, or, as they are called, free-schools abound.
439. *_The Force of Prayer_. [XXI.]
An appendage to 'The White Doe.' My friend, Mr. Rogers, has also written
on the subject. The story is preserved in Dr. Whitaker's _History of
Craven_, a topographical writer of first-rate merit in all that concerns
the past; but such was his aversion from the modern spirit, as shown in
the spread of manufactories in those districts of which he treated, that
his readers are left entirely ignorant, both of the progress of these
arts, and their real bearing upon the comfort, virtues, and happiness of
the inhabitants.
While wandering on foot through the fertile valleys, and over the
moorlands of the Apennine that divides Yorkshire from Lancashire, I used
to be delighted with observing the number of substantial cottages that
had sprung up on every side, each having its little plot of fertile
ground, won from the surrounding waste. A bright and warm fire, if
needed, was always to be found in these dwellings. The father was at his
loom, the children looked healthy and happy. Is it not to be feared that
the increase of mechanic power has done away with many of these
blessings, and substituted many evils? Alas, if these evils grow, how
are they to be checked, and where is the remedy to be found? Political
economy will not supply it, that is certain. We must look to something
deeper, purer, and higher.
440. *_A Fact and an Imagination_. [XXII.]
The first and last four lines of this poem each make a sonnet, and were
composed as such. But I thought that by intermediate lines they might be
connected so as to make a whole. One or two expressions are taken from
Milton's _History of England_.
441. *_A little Onward_. [XXIII.]
The complaint in my eyes which gave occasion to this address to my
daughter first showed itself as a consequence of inflammation, caught at
the top of Kirkstone, when I was over-heated by having carried up the
ascent my eldest son, a lusty infant. Frequently has the disease
recurred since, leaving the eyes in a state which has often prevented my
reading for months, and makes me at this day incapable of bearing
without injury any strong light by day or night. My acquaintance with
books has therefore been far short of my wishes, and on this account, to
acknowledge the services daily and hourly done me by my family and
friends, this note is written.
442. _Ode to Lycoris_. [XXIV.]
This, as well as the preceding and the two that follow, were composed in
front of Rydal Mount, and during my walks in the neighbourhood.
Nine-tenths of my verses have been murmured out in the open air. And
here let me repeat what I believe has already appeared in print. One day
a stranger, having walked round the garden and grounds of Rydal Mount,
asked of one of the female servants, who happened to be at the door,
permission to see her master's Study. 'This,' said she, leading him
forward, 'is my master's library, where he keeps his books; but his
study is out of doors.' After a long absence from home, it has more than
once happened that some one of my cottage neighbours (not of the
double-coach-house cottages) has said, 'Well, there he is; we are glad
to hear him _booing_ about again.' Once more, in excuse for so much
egotism, let me say these notes are written for my familiar friends, and
at their earnest request. Another time a gentleman, whom James had
conducted through the grounds, asked him what kind of plants throve best
there. After a little consideration, he answered, 'Laurels.' 'That is,'
said the stranger, 'as it should be. Don't you know that the laurel is
the emblem of poetry, and that poets used, on public occasions, to be
crowned with it?' James stared when the question was first put, but was
doubtless much pleased with the information.
443. *_Ibid._
The discerning reader who is aware that in the poem of 'Ellen Irwin' I
was desirous of throwing the reader at once out of the old ballad, so as
if possible to preclude a comparison between that mode of dealing with
the subject and the mode I meant to adopt, may here, perhaps, perceive
that this poem originated in the four last lines of the first stanza.
These specks of snow reflected in the lake, and so transferred, as it
were, to the subaqueous sky, reminded me of the swans which the fancy of
the ancient classic poets yoked to the car of Venus. Hence the tenor of
the whole first stanza and the name of Lycoris, which with some readers,
who think mythology and classical allusion too far-fetched, and
therefore more or less unnatural or affected, will tend to unrealise the
sentiment that pervades these verses. But surely one who has written so
much in verse as I have done may be allowed to retrace his steps into
the regions of fancy which delighted him in his boyhood, when he first
became acquainted with the Greek and Roman Poets. Before I read Virgil I
was so strongly attached to Ovid, whose _Metamorphoses_ I read at
school, that I was quite in a passion whenever I found him, in books of
criticism, placed below Virgil. As to Homer, I was never weary of
travelling over the scenes through which he led me. Classical literature
affected me by its own beauty. But the truths of Scripture having been
entrusted to the dead languages, and these fountains having been
recently laid open at the Reformation, an importance and a sanctity were
at that period attached to classical literature that extended, as is
obvious in Milton's _Lycidas_, for example, both to its spirit and form
in a degree that can never be revived. No doubt the hackneyed and
lifeless use into which mythology fell towards the close of the 17th
century, and which continued through the 18th, disgusted the general
reader with all allusion to it in modern verse. And though, in deference
to this disgust, and also in a measure participating in it, I abstained
in my earlier writings from all introduction of pagan fable,--surely,
even in its humble form, it may ally itself with real sentiment--as I
can truly affirm it did in the present case.
444. *_Memory_. [XXVIII.]
The verses 'Or strayed from hope and promise, self-betrayed,' were, I am
sorry to say, suggested from apprehensions of the fate of my friend
H.C., the subject of the verses addressed to H.C. when six years old.
The piece which follows, to 'Memory,' arose out of similar feelings.
445. *_This Lawn_. [XXIX.]
This lawn is the sloping one approaching the kitchen-garden, and was
made out of it. Hundreds of times have I here watched the dancing of
shadows amid a press of sunshine, and other beautiful appearances of
light and shade, flowers and shrubs. What a contrast between this and
the cabbages and onions and carrots that used to grow there on a piece
of ugly-shaped unsightly ground! No reflection, however, either upon
cabbages or onions. The latter, we know, were worshipped by the
Egyptians; and he must have a poor eye for beauty who has not observed
how much of it there is in the form and colour which cabbages and plants
of this genus exhibit through the various stages of their growth and
decay. A richer display of colour in vegetable nature can scarcely be
conceived than Coleridge, my sister, and I saw in a bed of potatoe
plants in blossom near a hut upon the moor between Inversneyd and Loch
Katrine. These blossoms were of such extraordinary beauty and richness
that no one could have passed them without notice. But the sense must be
cultivated through the mind before we can perceive those inexhaustible
treasures of Nature--for such they truly are--without the least
necessary reference to the utility of her productions, or even to the
laws whereupon, as we learn by research, they are dependent. Some are of
opinion that the habit of analysing, decomposing, and anatomising, is
inevitably unfavourable to the perception of beauty. People are led into
this mistake by overlooking the fact that such processes being to a
certain extent within the reach of a limited intellect, we are apt to
ascribe to them that insensibility of which they are in truth the
effect, and not the cause. Admiration and love, to which all knowledge
truly vital must tend, are felt by men of real genius in proportion as
their discoveries in Natural Philosophy are enlarged; and the beauty in
form of a plant or an animal is not made less but more apparent as a
whole by a more accurate insight into its constituent properties and
powers. A _Savant_, who is not also a poet in soul and a religionist in
heart, is a feeble and unhappy creature.
446. *_Humanity_. [XXX.]
These verses and the preceding ones, entitled 'Liberty,' were composed
as one piece, which Mrs. W. complained of as unwieldy and
ill-proportioned; and accordingly it was divided into two, on her
judicious recommendation.
[Printed notes: 'The rocking-stones alluded to in the beginning of the
following verses are supposed to have been used, by our British
ancestors, both for judicial and religious purposes. Such stones are not
uncommonly found, at this day, both in Great Britain and in Ireland.' On
l. 32, 'Descending to the worm in charity:' 'I am indebted here to a
passage in one of Mr. Digby's valuable works.']
447. *_Thought on the Seasons_. [XXXI.]