With wonder smit by its transparency,
And all-enraptured with its purity?--
Because the unstained, the clear, the crystalline,
Have ever in them something of benign; 5
Whether in gem, in water, or in sky,
A sleeping infant's brow, or wakeful eye
Of a young maiden, only not divine.
Scarcely the hand forbears to dip its palm
For beverage drawn as from a mountain-well. 10
Temptation centres in the liquid Calm;
Our daily raiment seems no obstacle
To instantaneous plunging in, deep Sea!
And revelling[851] in long embrace with thee.[852]
FOOTNOTES:
[851] 1835.
And wantoning ...
MS.
[852] The sea-water on the coast of the Isle of Man is singularly pure
and beautiful.--W. W. 1837.
XVII
ISLE OF MAN
[My son William[853] is here the person alluded to as saving the
life of the youth, and the circumstances were as mentioned in the
Sonnet.--I. F.]
A youth too certain of his power to wade
On the smooth bottom of this clear bright sea,[854]
To sight so shallow, with a bather's glee,
Leapt from this rock, and but for timely aid
He, by the alluring element betrayed, 5
Had perished. Then might Sea-nymphs (and with sighs
Of self-reproach) have chanted elegies[855]
Bewailing his sad fate, when he was laid[856]
In peaceful earth: for, doubtless, he was frank,
Utterly in himself devoid of guile; 10
Knew not the double-dealing of a smile;
Nor aught that makes men's promises a blank,
Or deadly snare: and He survives to bless
The Power that saved him in his strange distress.
FOOTNOTES:
[853] But it was his son John, and not William, who accompanied the
poet in this Tour. See the first Fenwick note (p. 342).--ED.
[854] 1835.
... that his feet could wade
At will the flow of this pellucid sea,
MS.
On the smooth bottom of this clear blue sea,
MS.
[855] Compare Ariel's Song in _The Tempest_, act I. scene ii.--
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell.--ED.
[856] 1837.
Leapt from this rock, and surely, had not aid
Been near, must soon have breathed out life, betrayed
By fondly trusting to an element
Fair, and to others more than innocent;
Then had sea-nymphs sung dirges for him laid 1835.
Here ...
MS.
XVIII
ISLE OF MAN[857]
Did[858] pangs of grief for lenient time too keen,
Grief that devouring waves had caused--or guilt[859]
Which they had witnessed, sway[860] the man who built
This Homestead, placed where nothing could be seen,
Nought heard, of ocean troubled or serene? 5
A tired Ship-soldier[861] on paternal land,
That o'er the channel holds august command,
The dwelling raised,--a veteran Marine![862]
He, in disgust, turned from the neighbouring sea[863]
To shun the memory of a listless life 10
That hung between two callings. May no strife
More hurtful here beset him, doomed though free,
Self-doomed, to worse inaction, till his eye
Shrink from the daily sight of earth and sky!
FOOTNOTES:
[857] 1837.
The Retired Marine Officer, Isle of Man. 1835.
[858] 1837.
Not ... 1835.
[859] 1837.
... nor guilt 1835.
[860] 1837.
... swayed ... 1835.
[861] 1835.
No--a Ship-soldier ... 1837.
[862] Henry Hutchinson. See the Fenwick note to the next sonnet.--ED.
[863] 1835.
The dwelling raised. Fantastic slave of spleen
He sought by shunning thus the neighbouring sea,
Refuge from memory of a listless life C.
The habitation raised, a slave of spleen, C.
The weary man turned from the neighbouring sea
MS.
XIX
BY A RETIRED MARINER[864]
(A FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR)
[Mrs. Wordsworth's Brother, Henry.[865]--I. F.]
From early youth I ploughed the restless Main,
My mind as restless and as apt to change;
Through every clime and ocean did I range,
In hope at length a competence to gain;
For poor to Sea I went, and poor I still remain. 5
Year after year I strove, but strove in vain,
And hardships manifold did I endure,
For Fortune on me never deign'd to smile;
Yet I at last a resting-place have found,
With just enough life's comforts to procure, 10
In a snug Cove on this our favoured Isle,
A peaceful spot where Nature's gifts abound;
Then sure I have no reason to complain,
Though poor to Sea I went, and poor I still remain.
FOOTNOTES:
[864] This unpretending Sonnet is by a gentleman nearly connected with
me, and I hope, as it falls so easily into its place, that both the
writer and the reader will excuse its appearance here.--W. W. 1835.
[865] Mr. Henry Hutchinson, Mrs. Wordsworth's brother, was--the Bishop
of Lincoln tells us--"a person of great originality and vigour of mind,
a very enterprising sailor, and a writer of verses distinguished by no
ordinary merit."--See the _Memoirs of Wordsworth_, vol. ii. p. 246.--ED.
XX
AT BALA-SALA, ISLE OF MAN
(SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY A FRIEND)
[Supposed to be written by a friend (Mr. Cookson), who died there a few
years after.[866]--I. F.]
Broken in fortune, but in mind entire
And sound in principle, I seek repose
Where ancient trees this convent-pile enclose,[867]
In ruin beautiful. When vain desire
Intrudes on peace, I pray the eternal Sire 5
To cast a soul-subduing shade on me,
A grey-haired, pensive, thankful Refugee;
A shade--but with some sparks of heavenly fire
Once to these cells vouchsafed.[868] And when I note
The old Tower's brow yellowed as with the beams 10
Of sunset ever there,[869] albeit streams[870]
Of stormy weather-stains that semblance wrought,
I thank the silent Monitor, and say
"Shine so, my aged brow, at all hours of the day!"
FOOTNOTES:
[866] Henry Crabb Robinson--the Wordsworths' companion in the tour,
wrote in his Journal, 14th July: "At Ballasalla called on Mr. and Mrs.
Cookson, esteemed friends of the W.'s, whom adversity had driven to
this asylum."--ED.
[867] Rushen Abbey.--W. W. 1835.
[868] 1835.
... with such sparks of holy fire
As once were cherished here....
MS.
[869] The "old Tower" is that of Rushen Abbey, close to Bala-Sala, the
latest dissolved monastery in the British Isles. Little of it survives;
only the tower, refectory, and dormitory. The tower is still yellowed
with lichen stains. The following occurs in one of Mr. H. C. Robinson's
letters on the Italian Tour of 1837:--"This reminds me that I was once
privy to the conception of a Sonnet with a distinctness which did not
once occur on the longer Italian journey. This was when I accompanied
him into the Isle of Man. We had been drinking tea with Mr. and Mrs.
Cookson, and left them when the weather was dull. Very soon after
leaving them we passed the Church Tower of Bala-Sala. The upper part of
the tower had a sort of frieze of yellow lichens. Mr. W. Pointed it out
to me, and said, 'It's a Perpetual sunshine.' I thought no more of it
till I had read the beautiful sonnet,
'Broken in fortune, but in mind entire.'"--ED.
[870] 1835.
.... and know that streams
MS.
XXI
TYNWALD HILL
[Mr. Robinson and I walked the greater part of the way from Castle-town
to Piel, and stopped some time at Tynwald Hill. One of my companions
was an elderly man who, in a muddy way (for he was tipsy), explained
and answered, as far as he could, my enquiries about this place and
the ceremonies held here. I found more agreeable company in some
little children; one of them, 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.--I. F.]
Once on the top of Tynwald's formal mound
(Still marked with green turf circles narrowing[871]
Stage above stage)[872] would sit this Island's King,
The laws to promulgate, enrobed and crowned;
While, compassing the little mount around,[873] 5
Degrees and Orders stood, each under each:
Now, like to things within fate's easiest reach,[874]
The power is merged, the pomp a grave has found.
Off with yon cloud,[875] old Snafell![876] that thine eye
Over three Realms may take its widest range; 10
And let, for them, thy fountains utter strange
Voices, thy winds break forth in prophecy,
If the whole State must suffer mortal change,
Like Mona's miniature of sovereignty.
FOOTNOTES:
[871] The ground at Tynwald Hill (as it is called) remains unchanged.
Here, on a small plot of ground, the whole Manx people meet annually
on Midsummer Day, July 5th, to appoint officers and enact new laws.
The first historical notice of these meetings is in 1417. The name
Tynwald is derived from the Scandinavian _thing_, "court of justice,"
and _wald_, "fenced." The mound is only 12 feet high, rising by four
circular platforms, each 3 feet higher than the one below it. The
circumference at the base is 240 feet, and at the top 18 feet. It used
once to be walled round, and had two gates. The approach now is by
twenty-one steps cut in the turf.
In his _Diary_, _etc._, Robinson wrote of Tynwald--"It brought
to my mind a similar monument of simple manners at Sarnen in
Switzerland."--ED.
[872] 1835.
Once on the top of Tynwald Hill (a Mound
MS.
Time was when on the top of yon small mound
(Still marked with circles duly narrowing
Each above each) ...
MS.
[873] 1835.
Would sit by solemn usage robed and crowned,
While compassing the grassy mount around,
MS.
Sate 'mid the assembled people robed and crowned,
MS.
[874] 1835.
Now like a thing within Fate's easiest reach,
MS.
[875] 1835.
Off with those clouds, ...
MS.
[876] 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!--W. W.
1835.
The top of Snaefell (which Wordsworth names "Snafell"), the highest
mountain in the Isle of Man, whence England, Scotland, and Ireland are
to be seen, as mentioned in the Sonnet, is not visible from Tynwald
Hill.--ED.
XXII
"DESPOND WHO WILL--_I_ HEARD A VOICE EXCLAIM"
Despond who will--_I_ heard a voice exclaim,
"Though fierce the assault, and shatter'd the defence,[877]
It cannot be that Britain's social frame,
The glorious work of time and providence,
Before a flying season's rash pretence,[878] 5
Should fall; that She, whose virtue put to shame,
When Europe prostrate lay, the Conqueror's aim,
Should perish, self-subverted. Black and dense
The cloud is; but brings _that_ a day of doom
To Liberty? Her sun is up the while,[879] 10
That orb whose beams round Saxon Alfred shone:
Then laugh, ye innocent Vales! ye Streams, sweep on,
Nor let one billow of our heaven-blest Isle[880]
Toss in the fanning wind a humbler plume."
FOOTNOTES:
[877] 1835.
Clear voices from pure worlds of hope exclaim
"Tho' fierce the assault, and shattered the defence,"
MS.
[878] 1835.
Before a season's calculating sense,
MS.
[879] 1835.
... The sun is up ...
MS.
[880] 1835.
... of this heaven-blest Isle
MS.
XXIII
IN THE FRITH OF CLYDE, AILSA CRAG[881]
DURING AN ECLIPSE OF THE SUN, JULY 17
[The morning of the eclipse was exquisitely beautiful while we passed
the Crag as described in the Sonnet. On the deck of the steam-boat were
several persons of the poor and labouring class, and I could not but be
struck by 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 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.--I. F.]
Since risen from ocean, ocean to defy,
Appeared the Crag of Ailsa, ne'er did morn
With gleaming lights more gracefully adorn
His sides, or wreathe with mist his forehead high:
Now, faintly darkening with the sun's eclipse,[882] 5
Still is he seen, in lone sublimity,
Towering above the sea and little ships;
For dwarfs the tallest seem while sailing by,
Each for her haven; with her freight of Care,
Pleasure, or Grief, and Toil that seldom looks 10
Into the secret of to-morrow's fare;
Though poor, yet rich, without the wealth of books,
Or aught that watchful Love to Nature owes
For her mute Powers, fix'd Forms, or[883] transient Shows.
FOOTNOTES:
[881] 1845.
IN THE FRITH OF CLYDE, AILSA CRAG.
(July 17, 1833) 1835.
IN THE FRITH OF CLYDE, AILSA CRAG.
(July 17) 1837.
[882] Compare _The Eclipse of the Sun_, 1820, in the "Memorials of a
Tour on the Continent, 1820" (vol. vi. p. 345).--ED.
[883] 1837.
... and ... 1835.
XXIV
ON THE FRITH OF CLYDE
(IN A STEAM-BOAT)
[The mountain outline on the north of this island, as seen from the
Frith of Clyde,[884] is much the finest I have ever noticed in Scotland
or elsewhere--I.F.]
Arran! a single-crested Teneriffe,
A St. Helena next--in shape and hue,
Varying her crowded peaks and ridges blue;
Who but must covet a cloud-seat, or skiff
Built for the air, or winged Hippogriff? 5
That he might fly, where no one could pursue,
From this dull Monster and her sooty crew;
And, as[885] a God, light on thy topmost cliff.
Impotent wish! which reason would despise
If the mind knew no union of extremes, 10
No natural bond between the boldest schemes
Ambition frames, and heart-humilities.[886]
Beneath stern mountains many a soft vale lies,
And lofty springs give birth to lowly streams.
FOOTNOTES:
[884] He doubtless refers to the view of Goatfell and Kaim-na-Calliach,
with Loch Ranza in front.--ED.
[885] 1837.
And, like ... 1835.
[886] Compare _The Triad_, II. 145-148--
High is her aim as heaven above,
And wide as ether her good-will;
And, like the lowly reed, her love
Can drink its nurture from the scantiest rill.--ED.
XXV
ON REVISITING DUNOLLY CASTLE
(See former series, "Yarrow Revisited," etc., p. 278.)
The captive Bird was gone;--to cliff or moor
Perchance had flown, delivered by the storm;
Or he had pined, and sunk to feed the worm:
Him found we not: but, climbing a tall tower,
There saw, impaved with rude fidelity 5
Of art mosaic, in a roofless floor,[887]
An Eagle with stretched wings, but beamless eye--
An Eagle that could neither wail nor soar.
Effigy[888] of the Vanished[889]--(shall I dare
To call thee so?) or symbol of fierce deeds 10
And of the towering courage which past times
Rejoiced in--take, whate'er thou be, a share,[890]
Not undeserved, of the memorial rhymes
That animate my way where'er it leads!
Lieutenant-Colonel M'Dougal of Dunollie wrote to me (October 1883) that
"the mosaic picture of an eagle--if it may be called so--still exists,
though it is rather a rude work of art. I believe it was executed by
a gardener, who was here about the time of Wordsworth's visit. It was
made of small stones, and is now a good deal overgrown with weeds,
moss, etc., as the second story of the old ruin is open to the weather.
An eagle was for many years kept in a cage, made against a wall of
the ruin, and this no doubt was the cause of the rude picture being
made."--ED.
FOOTNOTES:
[887] 1835.
Espied an old mosaic effigy
Set in a roofless chamber's pavement floor,
MS.
[888] 1837.
Shade of the poor Departed ... MS.
Effigies of the Vanished ... 1835.
[889] This ingenious piece of workmanship, as I afterwards learned, had
been executed for their own amusement by some labourers employed about
the place.--W. W. 1835.
[890] 1837.
... or symbol of past times,
That towering courage, and the savage deeds
Those times were proud of, take Thou too a share, 1835.
Their towering courage, and the savage deeds
Which they were proud of, ...
MS.
XXVI
THE DUNOLLY EAGLE
Not to the clouds, not to the cliff, he flew;
But when a storm, on sea or mountain bred,
Came and delivered him, alone he sped
Into the castle-dungeon's darkest mew.
Now, near his master's house in open view 5
He dwells, and hears indignant tempests howl,
Kennelled and chained. Ye tame domestic fowl,[891]
Beware of him! Thou, saucy cockatoo,
Look to thy plumage and thy life!--The roe,
Fleet as the west wind, is for _him_ no quarry; 10
Balanced in ether he will never tarry,
Eyeing the sea's blue depths. Poor Bird! even so
Doth man of brother man a creature make
That clings to slavery for its own sad sake.
FOOTNOTES:
[891] 1835.
... villatic Fowl,
MS.
XXVII
WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF MACPHERSON'S OSSIAN[892]
Composed 1824.--Published 1827
[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.,[893] the subject of the verses addressed to _H.C.
when six years old_. The piece to "Memory" arose out of similar
feelings.[894]--I. F.]
Oft have I caught, upon a fitful breeze,[895]
Fragments of far-off melodies,
With ear not coveting the whole,
A part so charmed the pensive soul:
While a dark storm before my sight 5
Was yielding, on a mountain height
Loose vapours have I watched, that won
Prismatic colours from the sun;
Nor felt a wish that heaven would show
The image of its perfect bow. 10
What need, then, of these finished Strains?
Away with counterfeit Remains!
An abbey in its lone recess,
A temple of the wilderness,
Wrecks though they be, announce with feeling 15
The majesty of honest dealing.
Spirit of Ossian! if imbound
In language thou may'st yet be found,
If aught (intrusted to the pen
Or floating on the tongues of men, 20
Albeit shattered and impaired)
Subsist thy dignity to guard,
In concert with memorial claim
Of old grey stone, and high-born name
That cleaves to rock or pillared cave 25
Where moans the blast, or beats the wave,
Let Truth, stern arbitress of all,
Interpret that Original,
And for presumptuous wrongs atone;--
Authentic words be given, or none! 30
Time is not blind;--yet He, who spares
Pyramid pointing to the stars,
Hath preyed with ruthless appetite
On all that marked the primal flight
Of the poetic ecstasy 35
Into the land of mystery.
No tongue is able to rehearse
One measure, Orpheus! of thy verse;[896]
Musæus, stationed with his lyre
Supreme among the Elysian quire, 40
Is, for the dwellers upon earth
Mute as a lark ere morning's birth,[897]
Why grieve for these, though past away
The music, and extinct the lay?
When thousands, by severer doom, 45
Full early to the silent tomb
Have sunk, at Nature's call; or strayed
From hope and promise, self-betrayed;
The garland withering on their brows;
Stung with remorse for broken vows; 50
Frantic--else how might they rejoice?
And friendless, by their own sad choice!
Hail, Bards of mightier grasp! on you
I chiefly call, the chosen Few,
Who cast-not off the acknowledged guide, 55
Who faltered not, nor turned aside;
Whose lofty genius could survive
Privation, under sorrow thrive;
In whom the fiery Muse revered
The symbol of a snow-white beard, 60
Bedewed with meditative tears
Dropped from the lenient cloud of years.
Brothers in soul! though distant times
Produced you nursed in various climes,
Ye, when the orb of life had waned, 65
A plenitude of love retained:
Hence, while in you each sad regret
By corresponding hope was met,
Ye lingered among human kind,
Sweet voices for the passing wind; 70
Departing sunbeams, loth to stop,
Though smiling on the last hill top![898]
Such to the tender-hearted maid
Even ere her joys begin to fade;
Such, haply, to the rugged chief 75
By fortune crushed, or tamed by grief;
Appears, on Morven's lonely shore,
Dim-gleaming through imperfect lore,
The Son of Fingal; such was blind
Mæonides of ampler mind;[899] 80
Such Milton, to the fountain head
Of glory by Urania led!
FOOTNOTES:
[892] This poem was first published among the _Poems of Sentiment and_
_Reflection_ in the edition of 1827. In the edition of 1836 Wordsworth
gave 1824 as the year of its composition. It is here printed in the
series to which it was finally assigned, although slightly out of its
chronological place.--ED.
[893] Hartley Coleridge.--ED.
[894] See p. 117.--ED.
[895] 1832.
... caught from fitful breeze 1827.
[896] The genuine Orphic Literature included some Hymns, a Theogony,
Oracles, Songs, and Sacred Legends, #hieroi logoi#: but none have
come down to modern times. The _Orphica_ which have survived are
spurious.--ED.
[897] None of the fragments attributed to Musæus by the ancients--the
#Chrêsmoi#, #Hypothêkai#, #Theogonia#, etc.--have survived.--ED.
[898] Compare vol. ii. p. 163--
There is an Eminence,--of these our hills
The last that parleys with the setting sun.--ED.
[899] Homer; so called from the fact that Mæonia in Lydia was, by some,
claimed as his birth-place.--ED.
XXVIII
CAVE OF STAFFA[900]
We saw, but surely, in the motley crowd,
Not one of us has felt the far-famed sight;
How _could_ we feel it? each the other's blight,
Hurried and hurrying, volatile and loud.
O for those motions only that invite 5
The Ghost of Fingal to his tuneful Cave
By the breeze entered, and wave after wave
Softly embosoming the timid light!
And by _one_ Votary who at will might stand
Gazing, and take into his mind and heart, 10
With undistracted reverence, the effect
Of those proportions where the almighty hand
That made the worlds, the sovereign Architect,
Has deigned to work as if with human Art![901]
FOOTNOTES:
[900] 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 steam-boat, I returned[902] 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.--W. W. 1835.
[901] Staffa, or the island of Staves, as some derive the name.--ED.
[902] 1845.
the Author returned 1835.
XXIX
CAVE OF STAFFA
(AFTER THE CROWD HAD DEPARTED)[903]
Thanks for the lessons of this Spot--fit school
For the presumptuous thoughts that would assign
Mechanic laws to agency divine;
And, measuring heaven by earth, would overrule
Infinite Power. The pillared vestibule, 5
Expanding yet precise, the roof embowed,[904]
Might seem designed to humble man, when proud
Of his best workmanship by plan and tool.
Down-bearing with his whole Atlantic weight
Of tide and tempest on the Structure's base, 10
And flashing to that Structure's topmost height,[905]
Ocean has proved its strength, and of its grace
In calms is conscious,[906] finding for his freight
Of softest music some responsive place.
FOOTNOTES:
[903] 1845.
CAVE OF STAFFA. 1835.
[904] Note the topographical accuracy of this description.--ED.
[905] 1837.
And flashing upwards to its topmost height, 1835.
[906] Compare, _On a high part of the Coast of Cumberland_, p. 338--
No; 'tis the earth-voice of the mighty sea,
Whispering how meek and gentle he _can_ be!--ED.
XXX
CAVE OF STAFFA
Ye shadowy Beings, that have rights and claims
In every cell of Fingal's mystic Grot,
Where are ye? Driven or venturing to the spot,
Our fathers glimpses caught of your thin Frames,
And, by your mien and bearing, knew your names; 5
And they could hear _his_ ghostly song who trod
Earth, till the flesh lay on him like a load,
While he struck his desolate harp without hopes or aims.
Vanished ye are, but subject to recal;
Why keep _we_ else the instincts whose dread law 10
Ruled here of yore, till what men felt they saw,
Not by black arts but magic natural!
If eyes be still sworn vassals of belief,
Yon light shapes forth a Bard, that shade a Chief.
XXXI
FLOWERS ON THE TOP OF THE PILLARS AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE CAVE
Hope smiled when your nativity was cast,
Children of Summer![907] Ye fresh Flowers that brave
What Summer here escapes not, the fierce wave,
And whole artillery of the western blast,
Battering the Temple's front, its long-drawn nave 5
Smiting, as if each moment were their last.
But ye, bright Flowers, on frieze and architrave
Survive,[908] and once again the Pile stands fast;
Calm as the Universe, from specular towers
Of heaven contemplated by Spirits pure 10
With mute astonishment, it stands sustained
Through every part in symmetry, to endure,[909]
Unhurt, the assault of Time with all his hours,
As the supreme Artificer ordained.[910]
FOOTNOTES:
[907] 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[911] 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.--W. W. 1835.
[908] They still survive, and flourish above the pillars.--ED.
[909] 1840 and C.
Suns and their systems, diverse yet sustained
In symmetry, and fashioned to endure, 1835.
[910] 1835.
As the Supreme Geometer ordained.
MS.
[911] 1845.
The author had 1835.
XXXII
IONA
On to Iona!--What can she afford
To _us_ save matter for a thoughtful sigh,
Heaved over ruin with stability
In urgent contrast? To diffuse the WORD
(Thy Paramount, mighty Nature! and Time's Lord)
Her Temples rose,[912] 'mid pagan gloom; but why, 6
Even for a moment, has our verse deplored
Their wrongs, since they fulfilled their destiny?
And when, subjected to a common doom
Of mutability, those far-famed Piles 10
Shall disappear from both the sister Isles,
Iona's Saints, forgetting not past days,
Garlands shall wear of amaranthine bloom,
While heaven's vast sea of voices chants their praise.
FOOTNOTES:
[912] St. Columba took up his residence at Iona, in 563.--ED.
XXXIII
IONA
(UPON LANDING)
How sad a welcome! To each voyager[913]
Some ragged child holds up for sale a store[914]
Of wave-worn pebbles, pleading on the shore[915]
Where once came monk and nun with gentle stir,
Blessings to give, news ask, or suit prefer. 5
Yet is[916] yon neat trim church[917] a grateful speck
Of novelty amid the sacred wreck
Strewn far and wide. Think, proud Philosopher![918]
Fallen though she be, this Glory of the west,[919]
Still on her sons, the beams of mercy shine; 10
And "hopes, perhaps more heavenly bright than thine,
A grace by thee unsought and unpossest,
A faith more fixed, a rapture more divine,
Shall gild their passage to eternal rest."[920]
FOOTNOTES:
[913] 1837.
With earnest look, to every voyager, 1835.
[914] 1837.
... his store 1835.
[915] 1835.
With outstretched hands, round every voyager
Press ragged children, each to supplicate
A price for wave-worn pebbles on his plate,
MS.
[916] 1837.
But see ... 1835.
[917] This refers to the modern parish Church on the Island, not to St.
Oran's Chapel, or the Cathedral Church of St. Mary.--ED.
[918] 1837.
... this sacred wreck--
Nay spare thy scorn, haughty Philosopher! 1835.
[919] 1835.
Fallen as she is, this Glory of the West,
MS.
[920] The four last lines of this sonnet are adopted from a well-known
sonnet of Russel, as conveying my feeling[921] better than any words of
my own[922] could do.--W. W. 1835.
These "last four lines" are taken from sonnet No. x. of _Sonnets and_
_Miscellaneous Poems_, by the late Thomas Russel, Fellow of New College
Oxford, printed for D. Price and J. Cooke, 1789. The Rev. Thomas
Russell, author of these _Sonnets_, was born 1762, died 1788. He was
a Wykehamist, and is referred to in a letter by Wordsworth to Dyce in
1833.--ED.
[921] 1845
the author's feeling 1835.
[922] 1845
his own 1835.
XXXIV
THE BLACK STONES OF IONA
[See Martin's Voyage among the Western Isles.[923]]
Here on their knees men swore; the stones were black,[924]
Black in the people's minds and words,[925] yet they
Were at that time, as now, in colour grey.
But what is colour, if upon the rack
Of conscience souls are placed by deeds that lack 5
Concord with oaths? What differ night and day
Then, when before the Perjured on his way
Hell opens, and the heavens in vengeance crack
Above his head uplifted in vain prayer
To Saint, or Fiend,[926] or to the Godhead whom 10
He had insulted--Peasant, King, or Thane?
Fly where the culprit may, guilt meets a doom;
And, from invisible worlds at need laid bare,
Come links for social order's awful chain.
FOOTNOTES:
[923] _Description of the Western Islands of Scotland; including an
account of the Manners, Customs, Religion, Language, Dress, etc., of
the Inhabitants_, by M. Martin, 1703.--ED.
[924] In Johnson's _Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland_ the
following occurs in the section on "Icolmkill:"--"The place is said
to be known where the Black Stones lie concealed, on which the old
Highland chiefs, when they made contracts and alliances, used to take
the oath, which was considered more sacred than any other obligation,
and which could not be violated without the blackest infamy. In these
days of violence and rapine, it was of great importance to impose
upon savage minds the sanctity of an oath, by some particular and
extraordinary circumstances--they would not have recourse to the Black
Stones upon small or common occasions; and when they had established
their faith by this tremendous sanction, inconstancy and treachery were
no longer feared."--ED.
[925] 1835.
Here on their knees, they swore, the stones were black,
Black in men's minds and words, ...
MS.
[926] 1835.
To saints, to fiends, ...
MS.
XXXV
"HOMEWARD WE TURN. ISLE OF COLUMBA'S CELL"
Homeward we turn. Isle of Columba's Cell,
Where Christian piety's soul-cheering spark
(Kindled from Heaven between the light and dark
Of time) shone like the morning-star, farewell!--
And fare thee well, to Fancy visible, 5
Remote St. Kilda, lone and loved sea-mark[927]
For many a voyage made in her swift bark,[928]
When with more hues than in the rainbow dwell
Thou a mysterious intercourse dost hold,
Extracting from clear skies and air serene, 10
And out of sun-bright waves, a lucid veil,
That thickens, spreads, and, mingling fold with fold,
Makes known, when thou no longer canst be seen,
Thy whereabout, to warn the approaching sail.
FOOTNOTES:
[927] St. Kilda is sixty miles to the north-west of Harris, in the
Outer Hebrides.--ED.
[928] 1837.
... farewell!--
Remote St. Kilda, art thou visible?
No--but farewell to thee, beloved sea-mark
From many a voyage made in Fancy's bark, 1835.
XXXVI
GREENOCK
Per me si va nella Città dolente.[929]
_We_ have not passed into a doleful City,
We who were led to-day down a grim dell,
By some too boldly named "the Jaws of Hell:"[930]
Where be the wretched ones, the sights for pity?
These crowded streets resound no plaintive ditty:-- 5
As from the hive where bees in summer dwell,
Sorrow seems here excluded; and that knell,
It neither damps the gay, nor checks the witty.
Alas! too busy Rival of old Tyre,[931]
Whose merchants Princes were, whose decks were thrones;
Soon may the punctual sea in vain respire 11
To serve thy need, in union with that Clyde
Whose nursling current brawls o'er mossy stones,[932]
The poor, the lonely, herdsman's joy and pride.
FOOTNOTES:
[929] See Dante, _Inferno_, iii. I.--ED.
[930] They came down from Inveraray to Loch Goil by Hell's Glen.--ED.
[931] 1837.
Too busy Mart! thus fared it with old Tyre, 1835.
[932] Above Elvanfoot, near the watershed, at "Summit" on the
Caledonian Railway line, where the Clyde rises.--ED.
XXXVII
"THERE!" SAID A STRIPLING, POINTING WITH MEET PRIDE
[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. 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 ministered 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 strays through his woods"--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.--I. F.]
"There!" said a Stripling, pointing with meet pride
Towards a low roof with green trees half concealed,
"Is Mosgiel Farm; and that's the very field
Where Burns ploughed up the Daisy."[933] Far and wide
A plain below stretched seaward, while, descried 5
Above sea-clouds, the Peaks of Arran rose;
And, by that simple notice, the repose
Of earth, sky, sea, and air, was vivified.
Beneath "the random _bield_ of clod or stone"
Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower 10
Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour
Have passed away; less happy than the One
That, by the unwilling ploughshare, died to prove
The tender charm of poetry and love.
FOOTNOTES:
[933] See Burns's poem _To a Mountain Daisy_, or as it was originally
called, _The Gowan_.--ED.
XXXVIII
THE RIVER EDEN, CUMBERLAND
["Nature gives thee flowers
That have no rivals among 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 banks of this river than I have observed in any
other parts of Great Britain.--I. F.]
Eden! till now thy beauty had I viewed
By glimpses only, and confess with shame
That verse of mine, whate'er its varying mood,
Repeats but once the sound of thy sweet name:[934]
Yet fetched from Paradise[935] that honour came, 5
Rightfully borne; for Nature gives thee flowers
That have no rivals among British bowers;
And thy bold rocks are worthy of their fame.[936]
Measuring thy course, fair Stream! at length I pay[937]
To my life's neighbour dues of neighbourhood; 10
But I have traced thee on thy winding way[938]
With pleasure sometimes by this thought restrained
For things far off we toil, while many a good[939]
Not sought, because too near, is never gained.[940]
FOOTNOTES:
[934] 1835.
Full long thy beauty, Eden, had I viewed,
By glimpses only ...
MS.
Eden! the Muse has wronged thee, be the shame
Frankly acknowledged, in no careless mood
Of memory, my verse have I reviewed
And met but once the sound of thy sweet name:
MS.
[935] It is to be feared that there is more of the poet than the sound
etymologist in this derivation of the 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--French,
eau--Latin, aqua.--W. W. 1835.
[936] Especially on the upper reaches of the river, as seen from the
Midland Railway line beyond Appleby.--ED.
[937] 1835.
Bright are the hours that prompt me now to pay
MS.
[938] 1835.
Thee have I traced along thy winding way
MS.
[939] 1845.
... by the thought restrained
That things far off are toiled for, while a good 1835.
That for things far off we toil, while many a good 1840.
[940] 1840.
... is seldom gained 1835 and
MS.
XXXIX
MONUMENT OF MRS. HOWARD
(by Nollekens)
IN WETHERAL CHURCH, NEAR COREY, ON THE BANKS OF THE EDEN
[Before this monument was put up in the Church 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 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.--I. F.]
Stretched on the dying Mother's lap, lies dead
Her new-born Babe; dire ending[941] of bright hope!
But Sculpture here, with the divinest scope
Of luminous faith, heavenward hath raised that head
So patiently; and through one hand has spread 5
A touch so tender for the insensate Child--
(Earth's lingering love to parting reconciled,
Brief parting, for the spirit is all but fled)--
That we, who contemplate the turns of life
Through this still medium, are consoled and cheered;
Feel with the Mother, think the severed Wife 11
Is less to be lamented than revered;
And own that Art, triumphant over strife
And pain, hath powers to Eternity endeared.
FOOTNOTES:
[941] 1845.
... issue ... 1835.
XL
SUGGESTED BY THE FOREGOING[942]
Tranquillity! the sovereign aim wert thou
In heathen schools of philosophic lore;[943]
Heart-stricken by stern destiny of yore
The Tragic Muse thee served with thoughtful vow;
And what of hope Elysium could allow 5
Was fondly seized by Sculpture, to restore
Peace to the Mourner. But when He who wore[944]
The crown of thorns around his bleeding brow
Warmed our sad being with celestial light,[945]
_Then_ Arts which still had drawn a softening grace 10
From shadowy fountains of the Infinite,
Communed with that Idea face to face:
And move around it now as planets run,
Each in its orbit round the central Sun.
FOOTNOTES:
[942] In the edition of 1835 there is no title to this sonnet.
[943] #Ataraxia#, was the aim of Stoic, Epicurean, and Sceptic
alike.--ED.
[944] 1840.
Peace to the Mourner's soul; but He who wore 1835.
[945] 1840.
... with his glorious light: 1835.
Round our sad being shed celestial light, C.
XLI
NUNNERY[946]
[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; though, 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.--I. F.]
The floods are roused, and will not soon be weary;
Down from the Pennine Alps[947] how fiercely sweeps
Croglin, the stately Eden's tributary![948]
He raves, or through some moody passage creeps
Plotting new mischief--out again he leaps 5
Into broad light, and sends, through regions airy,[949]
That voice which soothed the Nuns while on the steeps
They knelt in prayer, or sang to blissful Mary.[950]
That union ceased: then, cleaving easy walks
Through crags, and smoothing paths beset with danger,
Came studious Taste; and many a pensive stranger 11
Dreams on the banks, and to the river talks.
What change shall happen next to Nunnery Dell?[951]
Canal, and Viaduct, and Railway, tell![952]
FOOTNOTES:
[946] Nunnery; so named from the House for Benedictine Nuns established
by William Rufus.--ED.
[947] The chain of Crossfell[953]--W. W. 1835.
[948] The two streams of the Croglin and the Eden unite in the grounds
of Nunnery.--ED.
[949] 1835.
Seeking in vain broad light, and regions aery.
MS.
[950] 1835.
But with that voice which once high on his steeps
Mingled with vespers, sung to blissful Mary--
MS.
[951] 1835.
... to Croglin Dell?
MS.
[952] 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.--W. W.
1835.
[953] 1845.
which parts Cumberland and Westmoreland from Northumberland
and Durham. 1835.
XLII
STEAMBOATS, VIADUCTS, AND RAILWAYS
Motions and Means, on land and sea[954] at war
With old poetic feeling, not for this,
Shall ye, by Poets even, be judged amiss!
Nor shall your presence, howsoe'er it mar
The loveliness of Nature, prove a bar 5
To the Mind's gaining that prophetic sense
Of future change, that point of vision, whence
May be discovered what in soul ye are.
In spite of all that beauty may disown
In your harsh features, Nature doth embrace 10
Her lawful offspring in Man's art; and Time,
Pleased with your triumphs o'er his brother Space,
Accepts from your bold hands the proffered crown
Of hope, and smiles on you with cheer sublime.[955]
FOOTNOTES:
[954] 1835.
... on sea or land ...
Version in _The Morning Post_.
[955] Compare the Sonnet _On the Projected Kendal and Windermere
Railway_, written in 1844.--ED.
XLIII
THE MONUMENT COMMONLY CALLED LONG MEG AND HER DAUGHTERS, NEAR THE RIVER
EDEN[956]
Composed, _probably_, in 1821.--Published 1822
A weight of awe, not easy to be borne,
Fell suddenly upon my Spirit--cast
From the dread bosom of the unknown past,
When first I saw that family forlorn.[957]
Speak Thou, whose massy strength and stature scorn[958]
The power of years--pre-eminent, and placed 6
Apart, to overlook the circle vast--
Speak, Giant-mother! tell it to the Morn
While she dispels the cumbrous shades of Night;
Let the Moon hear, emerging from a cloud; 10
At whose behest uprose on British ground
That Sisterhood, in hieroglyphic round
Forth-shadowing, some have deemed, the infinite
The inviolable God, that tames the proud![959][960]
FOOTNOTES:
[956] It first appeared in _A Description of the Scenery of the Lakes
in the North of England_, third edition, 1822.--ED.
[957] 1837.
....that Sisterhood forlorn. 1822.
[958] 1837.
And him, whose strength and stature seems to scorn 1822.
[959] 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.--W. W. 1837.
The text of this note, in the edition of 1822, is slightly
different.--ED.
In a letter to Sir George Beaumont, January 6, 1821, Wordsworth wrote,
"My road brought me suddenly and unexpectedly upon that ancient
monument, called by the country people Long Meg and her Daughters.
Everybody has heard of it, and so had I from very early childhood; but
had never seen it before. Next to Stonehenge it is beyond dispute the
most noble relic of the kind that this or probably any other country
contains. Long Meg is a single block of unhewn stone, eighteen feet
high, at a small distance from a vast circle of other stones, some of
them of huge size, though curtailed of their stature, by their own
incessant pressure upon it." Compare a note in Wordsworth's _Guide to
the Scenery of the Lakes_, section 2.--ED.
[960] 1837.
When, how, and wherefore, rose on British ground
That wondrous Monument, whose mystic round
Forth shadows, some have deemed, to mortal sight
The inviolable God that tames the proud! 1822.
XLIV
LOWTHER[961]
["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.--I. F.]
Lowther! in thy majestic Pile are seen[962]
Cathedral pomp and grace, in apt accord[963]
With the baronial castle's sterner mien;[964]
Union significant of God adored,
And charters won and guarded by the sword 5
Of ancient honour; whence that goodly state
Of polity which wise men venerate,[965]
And will maintain, if God his help afford.
Hourly the democratic torrent swells;[966]
For airy promises and hopes suborned 10
The strength of backward-looking thoughts is scorned.
Fall if ye must, ye Towers and Pinnacles,
With what ye symbolise; authentic Story
Will say, Ye disappeared with England's Glory!
FOOTNOTES:
[961] There was no title in the edition of 1835.
[962] 1835.
... in thy magnificence are seen
MS.
[963] 1835.
Shapes of cathedral pomp that well accord
MS.
[964] The present Castle was begun in 1808. It is in the style of the
13th and 14th century structures. The arched corridors surrounding the
staircase--which is sixty feet square and ninety feet high--may justify
the description in the sonnet. These stone corridors open on each side,
through the centre of the castle. Compare the reference to Lowther in
Barren's _Travels in China_, p. 134, in the course of his description
of "Gehol's matchless gardens," referred to in _The Prelude_, book
viii. (vol. iii. p. 274.)--ED.
[965] The Lowther family have been, for generations, the
representatives of the Conservative cause in Cumberland.--ED.
[966] 1835.
But high the democratic torrent swells.
MS.
XLV
TO THE EARL OF LONSDALE
"Magistratus indicat virum."
Lonsdale! it were unworthy of a Guest,
Whose heart with gratitude to thee inclines,
If he should speak, by fancy touched, of signs
On thy Abode harmoniously imprest,
Yet be unmoved with wishes to attest 5
How in thy mind and moral frame agree
Fortitude, and that Christian Charity
Which, filling, consecrates the human breast.
And if the Motto on thy 'scutcheon teach
With truth, "THE MAGISTRACY SHOWS THE MAN;"
_That_ searching test thy public course has stood;[967] 11
As will be owned alike by bad and good,
Soon as the measuring of life's little span
Shall place thy virtues out of Envy's reach.[968]
FOOTNOTES:
[967] 1835.
Lonsdale! it were unworthy of a Guest,
One chiefly well aware how much he owes
To thy regard, to speak in verse or prose
Of types and signs harmoniously imprest
On thy Abode, neglecting to attest
That in thy Mansion's Lord as well agree
Meekness and strength and Christian charity,
That filling, consecrates the human breast.
And if, as thy armorial bearings teach,
"The Magistracy indicates the Man,"
That test thy life triumphantly has stood;
MS.
[968] 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.--W. W. 1835.
XLVI
THE SOMNAMBULIST[969]
[This poem might be dedicated to my friends, 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 had 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.--I.
F.]
List, ye who pass by Lyulph's Tower[970][971]
At eve; how softly then
Doth Aira-force, that torrent hoarse,
Speak from the woody glen![972]
Fit music for a solemn vale! 5
And holier seems the ground[973]
To him who catches[974] on the gale
The spirit of a mournful tale,
Embodied in the sound.
Not far from that fair site whereon 10
The Pleasure-house is reared,
As story says, in antique days
A stern-brow'd house appeared;
Foil to a Jewel rich in light
There set, and guarded well; 15
Cage for a Bird of plumage bright,
Sweet-voiced, nor wishing for a flight
Beyond her native dell.
To win this bright Bird from her cage,
To make this Gem their own, 20
Came Barons bold, with store of gold,
And Knights of high renown;
But one She prized, and only one;
Sir Eglamore was he;
Full happy season, when was known, 25
Ye Dales and Hills! to you alone
Their mutual loyalty--[975]
Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,
Thy brook, and bowers of holly;
Where Passion caught what Nature taught, 30
That all but love is folly;
Where Fact with Fancy stooped to play;
Doubt came not, nor regret--
To trouble hours that winged their way,
As if through an immortal day 35
Whose sun could never set.
But in old times[976] Love dwelt not long
Sequester'd with repose;
Best throve the fire of chaste desire,
Fanned by the breath of foes. 40
"A conquering lance is beauty's test,
And proves the Lover true;"
So spake Sir Eglamore, and pressed
The drooping Emma[977] to his breast,
And looked a blind adieu. 45
They parted.--Well with him it fared
Through wide-spread regions errant;
A knight of proof in love's behoof,
The thirst of fame his warrant:
And She her happiness[978] can build 50
On woman's quiet hours;
Though faint, compared with spear and shield,
The solace beads and masses yield,
And needlework and flowers.
Yet blest was Emma[979] when she heard 55
Her Champion's praise recounted;
Though brain would swim, and eyes grow dim,
And high her blushes mounted;
Or when a bold heroic lay
She warbled from full heart; 60
Delightful blossoms for the _May_
Of absence! but they will not stay,
Born only to depart.
Hope wanes with her, while lustre fills
Whatever path he chooses; 65
As if his orb, that owns no curb,
Received the light hers loses.
He comes not back; an ampler space
Requires for nobler deeds;
He ranges on from place to place, 70
Till of his doings is no trace,
But what her fancy breeds.
His fame may spread, but in the past
Her spirit finds its centre;
Clear sight She has of what he was, 75
And that would now content her.
"Still is he my devoted Knight?"
The tear in answer flows;
Month falls on month with heavier weight;
Day sickens round her, and the night 80
Is empty of repose.
In sleep She sometimes walked abroad,
Deep sighs with quick words blending,
Like that pale Queen whose hands are seen
With fancied spots contending;[980] 85
But _she_ is innocent of blood,--
The moon is not more pure
That shines aloft, while through the wood
She thrids her way, the sounding Flood
Her melancholy lure! 90
While 'mid the fern-brake sleeps the doe,
And owls alone are waking,
In white arrayed, glides on the Maid
The downward pathway taking,
That leads her to the torrent's side 95
And to a holly bower;
By whom on this still night descried?
By whom in that lone place espied?
By thee, Sir Eglamore![981]
A wandering Ghost, so thinks the Knight, 100
His coming step has thwarted,
Beneath the boughs that heard their vows,
Within whose shade they parted.
Hush, hush, the busy Sleeper see!
Perplexed her fingers seem, 105
As if they from the holly tree
Green twigs would pluck, as rapidly
Flung from her to the stream.
What means the Spectre? Why intent
To violate the Tree, 110
Thought Eglamore, by which I swore
Unfading constancy?
Here am I, and to-morrow's sun,
To her I left, shall prove
That bliss is ne'er so surely won 115
As when a circuit has been run
Of valour, truth, and love.
So from the spot whereon he stood,
He moved with stealthy pace;
And, drawing nigh, with his living eye,[982] 120
He recognised the face;
And whispers caught, and speeches small,
Some to the green-leaved tree,
Some muttered to the torrent-fall;--
"Roar on, and bring him with thy call; 125
I heard, and so may He!"
Soul-shattered was the Knight, nor knew
If Emma's Ghost[983] it were,
Or boding Shade, or if the Maid
Her very self stood there. 130
He touched; what followed who shall tell?
The soft touch snapped the thread
Of slumber--shrieking back she fell,
And the Stream whirled her down the dell
Along its foaming bed. 135
In plunged the Knight!--when on firm ground
The rescued Maiden lay,
Her eyes grew bright with blissful light,
Confusion passed away;
She heard, ere to the throne of grace 140
Her faithful Spirit flew,
His voice--beheld his speaking face;
And, dying, from his own embrace,
She felt that he was true.
So was he reconciled to life: 145
Brief words may speak the rest;[984]
Within the dell he built a cell,
And there was Sorrow's guest;
In hermits' weeds repose he found,
From vain temptations[985] free;[986] 150
Beside the torrent dwelling--bound
By one deep heart-controlling sound,
And awed to piety.
Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course,
Nor fear memorial lays, 155
Where clouds that spread in solemn shade,
Are edged with golden rays!
Dear art thou to the light of heaven,
Though minister of sorrow;
Sweet is thy voice at pensive even; 160
And thou, in lovers' hearts forgiven,
Shalt take thy place with Yarrow!
This poem was translated into Latin verse by the poet's son, and
published in the second edition of _Yarrow Revisited, and other
Poems_, 1835.--ED.
FOOTNOTES:
[969] The original title of the Poem (in MS.) was
_Aira Force,_
_or_
_Sir Eglamore and Elva._
There were no changes of text in the published editions of this poem.
The various readings given are from MS. copies of the poem, in Mrs.
Wordsworth's handwriting.--ED.
[970] 1835.
'Tis sweet to stand by Lyulph's Tower
MS.
[971] 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.--W. W. 1835.
[972] Compare _Airey-Force Valley_--
the brook itself,
Old as the hills that feed it from afar,
Doth rather deepen than disturb the calm, etc.--ED.
[973] 1835.
To rudest shepherd of the vale
The spot seems holy ground;
MS.
[974] 1835.
For he can catch....
MS.
[975] 1835.
Their true love's sanctity--
MS.
[976] 1835.
But in that age ...
MS.
[977] 1835.
... Elva ...
MS.
[978] 1835.
She, too, a happiness ...
MS.
[979] 1835.
... Elva ...
MS.
[980] See _Macbeth_, act IV. scene V.--ED.
[981] 1835.
The knight, Sir Eglamore.
MS.
[982] 1835.
... with living eye,
MS.
[983] 1835.
If Elva's Ghost ...
MS.
[984] 1835.
In plunged the Knight--he strove in vain.
Brief words may speak the rest;
MS.
[985] 1835.
... temptation ...
MS.
[986] Compare the _Ode to Duty_, vol. iii. p. 37:--
From vain temptations dost set free--ED.
XLVII
TO CORDELIA M----[987]
HALLSTEADS, ULLSWATER
Not in the mines beyond the western main,
You say, Cordelia,[988] was the metal sought,
Which a fine skill, of Indian growth, has wrought
Into this flexible yet faithful Chain;
Nor is it silver of romantic Spain 5
But from our loved Helvellyn's[989] depths was brought,
Our own domestic mountain. Thing and thought
Mix strangely; trifles light, and partly vain,
Can prop, as you have learnt, our nobler being:
Yes, Lady, while about your neck is wound 10
(Your casual glance oft meeting) this bright cord,
What witchery, for pure gifts of inward seeing,
Lurks in it, Memory's Helper, Fancy's Lord,
For precious tremblings in your bosom found!
FOOTNOTES:
[987] Cordelia Marshall.--ED.
[988] 1845.
You tell me, Delia!... 1835.
[989] 1845.
You say but from Helvellyn's ... 1835.
XLVIII
"MOST SWEET IT IS WITH UNUPLIFTED EYES"[990]
Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes
To pace the ground, if path be there or none,
While a fair region round the traveller lies[991]
Which he forbears again to look upon;
Pleased rather with some soft ideal scene, 5
The work of Fancy, or some happy tone
Of meditation, slipping in between
The beauty coming and the beauty gone.[992]
If Thought and Love desert us, from that day
Let us break off all commerce with the Muse: 10
With Thought and Love companions of our way,
Whate'er the senses take or may refuse,
The Mind's internal heaven shall shed her dews
Of inspiration on the humblest lay.
FOOTNOTES:
[990] The title to this sonnet, in the editions previous to 1845, was
_Conclusion_.
[991] 1835.
While round the conscious traveller beauty lies
MS.
[992] 1835.
Pleased rather with that soothing after-tone
Whose seat is in the mind, occasion's Queen!
Else Nature's noblest objects were I ween
A yoke endured, a penance undergone.
MS.
1834
The Poems of 1834 include four of the _Evening Voluntaries_, _The
Labourer's Noon-day Hymn_, and the stanzas to _The Redbreast_.--ED.
"NOT IN THE LUCID INTERVALS OF LIFE"
Composed 1834.--Published 1835
[The lines following "nor do words" were written with Lord Byron's
character as a poet before me, and that of others his contemporaries
who wrote under like influences.--I. F.]
One of the "Evening Voluntaries."--ED.
Not in the lucid intervals of life
That come but as a curse to party-strife;
Not in some hour when Pleasure with a sigh
Of languor puts his rosy garland by;
Not in the breathing-times of that poor slave 5
Who daily piles up wealth in Mammon's cave--
Is Nature felt, or can be; nor do words,
Which practised talent[993] readily affords,
Prove that her hand has touched responsive chords;
Nor has her gentle beauty power to move 10
With genuine rapture and with fervent love
The soul of Genius, if he dare[994] to take
Life's rule from passion craved for passion's sake;
Untaught that meekness is the cherished bent
Of all the truly great and all the innocent. 15
But who _is_ innocent? By grace divine,
Not otherwise, O Nature! we are thine,
Through good and evil thine, in just degree
Of rational and manly sympathy. 19
To all that Earth from pensive hearts is stealing,
And Heaven is now to gladdened eyes revealing,
Add every charm the Universe can show
Through every change its aspects undergo--
Care may be respited, but not repealed;
No perfect cure grows on that bounded field. 25
Vain is the pleasure, a false calm the peace,
If He, through whom alone our conflicts cease,
Our virtuous hopes without relapse advance,
Come not to speed the Soul's deliverance;
To the distempered Intellect refuse 30
His gracious help, or give what we abuse.
FOOTNOTES:
[993] See the Fenwick note.--ED.
[994] 1837.
... dares ... 1835.
BY THE SIDE OF RYDAL MERE
Composed 1834.--Published 1835
One of the "Evening Voluntaries."--ED.
The linnet's warble, sinking towards a close,
Hints to the thrush 'tis time for their repose;
The shrill-voiced thrush is heedless, and again
The monitor revives his own sweet strain;
But both will soon be mastered, and the copse 5
Be left as silent as the mountain-tops,
Ere some commanding star[995] dismiss to rest
The throng of rooks, that now, from twig or nest,
(After a steady flight on home-bound wings,
And a last game of mazy hoverings 10
Around their ancient grove) with cawing noise
Disturb the liquid music's equipoise.
O Nightingale! Who ever heard thy song
Might here be moved, till Fancy grows so strong
That listening sense is pardonably cheated 15
Where wood or stream by thee was never greeted.[996]
Surely, from fairest spots of favoured lands,
Were not some gifts withheld by jealous hands,
This hour of deepening darkness here would be
As a fresh morning for new harmony; 20
And lays as prompt would hail the dawn of Night:
A _dawn_ she has both beautiful and bright,
When the East kindles with the full moon's light;[997]
Not like the rising sun's impatient glow
Dazzling the mountains, but an overflow 25
Of solemn splendour, in mutation slow.
Wanderer by spring with gradual progress led,
For sway profoundly felt as widely spread;
To king, to peasant, to rough sailor, dear,
And to the soldier's trumpet-wearied ear; 30
How welcome wouldst thou be to this green Vale
Fairer than Tempe![998] Yet, sweet Nightingale!
From the warm breeze that bears thee on, alight
At will, and stay thy migratory flight;
Build, at thy choice, or sing, by pool or fount, 35
Who shall complain, or call thee to account?
The wisest, happiest, of our kind are they
That ever walk content with Nature's way,
God's goodness--measuring bounty as it may;
For whom the gravest thought of what they miss, 40
Chastening the fulness of a present bliss,
Is with that wholesome office satisfied,
While unrepining sadness is allied
In thankful bosoms to a modest pride.
FOOTNOTES:
[995] Compare the _Lines, composed at Grasmere_ in 1806 (vol iv. p.
48), when Mr. Fox's death was hourly expected--
Yon star upon the mountain-top
Is listening quietly.--ED.
[996] The nightingale is not usually heard in England farther north
than the valley of the Trent.
Compare _The Excursion_, book iv. l. 1167 (vol. v. p. 188); also the
lines (vol. iv, p. 67) beginning--
O Nightingale! thou surely art
A creature of a "fiery heart."--ED.
[997] 1837.
... moon's light.
Wanderer by ... 1835.
[998] The Thessalian valley, five miles long, from Olympus to Ossa,
through which the Peneus makes its way to the Ægean sea.--ED.
"SOFT AS A CLOUD IS YON BLUE RIDGE--THE MERE"
Composed 1834.--Published 1835
One of the "Evening Voluntaries."--ED.
Soft as a cloud is yon blue Ridge--the Mere[999]
Seems firm as solid crystal, breathless, clear,
And motionless; and, to the gazer's eye,
Deeper than ocean, in the immensity
Of its vague mountains and unreal sky! 5
But, from the process in that still retreat,
Turn to minuter changes at our feet;
Observe how dewy Twilight has withdrawn
The crowd of daisies from the shaven lawn,
And has restored to view its tender green, 10
That, while the sun rode high, was lost beneath their dazzling sheen.
--An emblem this of what the sober Hour
Can do for minds disposed to feel its power!
Thus oft, when we in vain have wish'd away
The petty pleasures of the garish day, 15
Meek eve shuts up the whole usurping host
(Unbashful dwarfs each glittering at his post)
And leaves the disencumbered spirit free
To reassume a staid simplicity.
'Tis well--but what are helps of time and place, 20
When wisdom stands in need of nature's grace;
Why do good thoughts, invoked or not, descend,
Like Angels from their bowers, our virtues to befriend;
If yet To-morrow, unbelied, may say,
"I come to open out, for fresh display, 25
The elastic vanities of yesterday?"
FOOTNOTES:
[999] The "mere" was probably Rydal, and the "ridge" that of Silver
How.--ED.
"THE LEAVES THAT RUSTLED ON THIS OAK-CROWNED HILL"
Composed 1834.--Published 1835
[Composed by the side of Grasmere lake. The mountains that enclose
the vale, especially towards Easdale, are most favorable to the
reverberation of sound. There is a passage in _The Excursion_ towards
the close of the fourth 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.[1000]
"Often, at the hour
When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard,
Within the circuit of this fabric huge,
One voice--the solitary raven."--I. F.]
One of the "Evening Voluntaries."--ED.
The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned hill,
And sky that danced among those leaves, are still;
Rest smooths the way for sleep; in field and bower
Soft shades and dews have shed their blended power
On drooping eyelid and the closing flower; 5
Sound is there none at which the faintest heart
Might leap, the weakest nerve of superstition start;
Save when the Owlet's unexpected scream
Pierces the ethereal vault; and ('mid the gleam
Of unsubstantial imagery, the dream, 10
From the hushed vale's realities, transferred
To the still lake) the imaginative Bird
Seems, 'mid inverted mountains, not unheard.
Grave Creature!--whether, while the moon shines bright
On thy wings opened wide for smoothest flight, 15
Thou art discovered in a roofless tower,
Rising from what may once have been a lady's bower;
Or spied where thou sitt'st moping in thy mew
At the dim centre of a churchyard yew;
Or, from a rifted crag or ivy tod 20
Deep in a forest, thy secure abode,
Thou giv'st, for pastime's sake, by shriek or shout,
A puzzling notice of thy whereabout--
May the night never come, nor[1001] day be seen,
When I shall scorn thy voice or mock thy mien! 25
In classic ages men perceived a soul
Of sapience in thy aspect, headless Owl!
Thee Athens reverenced in the studious grove;[1002]
And, near the golden sceptre grasped by Jove,
His Eagle's favourite perch, while round him sate 30
The Gods revolving the decrees of Fate,
Thou, too, wert present at Minerva's side:
Hark to that second larum!--far and wide
The elements have heard, and rock and cave replied.
FOOTNOTES:
[1000] See also the extract from Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, in the
note to _The Excursion_ (vol. v. p. 189).--ED.
[1001] 1837.
... the ... 1835.
[1002] The owl became the emblem of Athens--and was associated with
Minerva--because the birds abounded there.--ED.
THE LABOURER'S NOON-DAY HYMN
Composed 1834.--Published 1835
[Bishop Ken's Morning and Evening Hymns are, as they deserve to be,
familiarly known. Many other hymns have also been written on the
same subject; but, not being aware of any designed for noon-day,
I was induced to compose these verses. Often one has occasion to
observe cottage children carrying, in their baskets, dinner to their
Fathers engaged with their daily labours in the fields and woods.
How gratifying would it be to me could I be assured that any portion
of these stanzas had been sung by such a domestic concert under such
circumstances. A friend of mine has told me that she introduced this
Hymn into a village-school which she superintended, and the stanzas
in succession furnished her with texts to comment upon in a way which
without difficulty was made intelligible to the children, and in which
they obviously took delight, and they were taught to sing it to the
tune of the old 100th Psalm.--I.F.]
One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--ED.
Up to the throne of God is borne
The voice of praise at early morn,
And he accepts the punctual hymn
Sung as the light of day grows dim.
Nor will he turn his ear aside 5
From holy offerings at noontide.
Then here reposing let us raise
A song of gratitude and praise.
What though our burthen be not light,
We need not toil from morn to night; 10
The respite of the mid-day hour
Is in the thankful Creature's power.
Blest are the moments, doubly blest,
That, drawn from this one hour of rest,
Are with a ready heart bestowed 15
Upon the service of our God!
Each field is then a hallowed spot,[1003]
An altar is in each man's cot,
A church in every grove that spreads
Its living roof above our heads. 20
Look up to Heaven! the industrious Sun
Already half his race hath run;
_He_ cannot halt nor go astray,
But our immortal Spirits may.
Lord! since his rising in the East, 25
If we have faltered or transgressed,
Guide, from thy love's abundant source,
What yet remains of this day's course:
Help with thy grace, through life's short day,
Our upward and our downward way; 30
And glorify for us the west,
When we shall sink to final rest.
FOOTNOTES:
[1003] 1845.
Why should we crave a hallowed spot? 1835.
THE REDBREAST
(SUGGESTED IN A WESTMORELAND COTTAGE)
Composed 1834.--Published 1835
[Written at Rydal Mount. All our cats having been banished the house,
it was soon frequented by redbreasts. Two or three of them, when the
window was open, would come in, particularly when Mrs. Wordsworth was
breakfasting alone, and hop about the table picking up the crumbs. My
sister being then confined to her room by sickness, as, dear creature,
she still is, had one that, without being caged, took up its abode with
her, and at night used to perch upon a nail from which a picture had
hung. It used to sing and fan her face with its wings in a manner that
was very touching.--I.F.]
One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."--ED.
Driven in by Autumn's sharpening air
From half-stripped woods and pastures bare,
Brisk Robin seeks a kindlier home:
Not like a beggar is he come,
But enters as a looked-for guest, 5
Confiding in his ruddy breast,
As if it were a natural shield
Charged with a blazon on the field,
Due to that good and pious deed
Of which we in the Ballad read. 10
But pensive fancies putting by,
And wild-wood sorrows, speedily
He plays the expert ventriloquist;
And, caught by glimpses now--now missed,
Puzzles the listener with a doubt 15
If the soft voice he throws about
Comes from within doors or without!
Was ever such a sweet confusion,
Sustained by delicate illusion?
He's at your elbow--to your feeling 20
The notes are from the floor or ceiling;
And there's a riddle to be guessed,
'Till you have marked his heaving chest,
And busy throat whose sink and swell,[1004]
Betray the Elf that loves to dwell 25
In Robin's bosom, as a chosen cell.
Heart-pleased we smile upon the Bird
If seen, and with like pleasure stirred
Commend him, when he's only heard.
But small and fugitive our gain 30
Compared with _hers_[1005] who long hath lain,
With languid limbs and patient head
Reposing on a lone sick-bed;
Where now, she[1006] daily hears a strain
That cheats her[1007] of too busy cares, 35
Eases her pain, and helps her prayers.[1008]
And who but this dear Bird beguiled
The fever of that pale-faced Child;
Now cooling, with his passing wing,
Her forehead, like a breeze of Spring: 40
Recalling now, with descant soft
Shed round her pillow from aloft,
Sweet thoughts of angels hovering nigh,
And the invisible sympathy
Of "Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and John, 45
Blessing the bed she lies upon?"[1009]
And sometimes, just as listening ends
In slumber, with the cadence blends
A dream of that low-warbled hymn
Which old folk, fondly pleased to trim 50
Lamps of faith, now burning dim,
Say that the Cherubs carved in stone,
When clouds gave way at dead of night
And the ancient church was filled with light,[1010]
Used to sing in heavenly tone, 55
Above and round the sacred places
They guard, with winged baby-faces.
Thrice happy Creature! in all lands
Nurtured by hospitable hands:
Free entrance to this cot has he, 60
Entrance and exit both _yet_ free;
And, when the keen unruffled weather
That thus brings man and bird together,
Shall with its pleasantness be past,
And casement closed and door made fast, 65
To keep at bay the howling blast,
_He_ needs not fear the season's rage,
For the whole house is Robin's cage.
Whether the bird flit here or there,
O'er table _lilt_, or perch on chair, 70
Though some may frown and make a stir,
To scare him as a trespasser,
And he belike will flinch or start,
Good friends he has to take his part;
One chiefly, who with voice and look 75
Pleads for him from the chimney-nook,
Where sits the Dame, and wears away
Her long and vacant holiday;
With images about her heart,
Reflected from the years gone by, 80
On human nature's second infancy.
FOOTNOTES:
[1004] 1836.
... breast,
Where tiny sinking, and faint swell, 1835.
[1005] 1845.
... _his_ ... 1835.
[1006] 1845.
... he ... 1835.
[1007] 1845.
... him ... 1835.
[1008] 1845.
Eases his pain, and helps his prayers. 1835.
[1009] The words--
"Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and John,
Bless the bed that I lie on,"
are part of a child's prayer, still in general use through the northern
counties.--W. W. 1835.
[1010] 1836.
And the moon filled the church with light, 1835.
ADDENDA
(1) p. 35. _How soon--alas! etc._
The following version is written in the late Lord Coleridge's
copy of the Poems:--
Alas! full soon did man created pure,
By Angels guarded, deviate from the line
Of innocence, and woeful forfeiture
Incur by wilful breach of law divine.
Even so Christ's church, how prone was she to appear
Obedient to her Lord, how prompt to twine
'Mid glorious flowers that shall for aye endure,
Weeds on whose front the world hath fixed her sign.
So Man, if with thy trials thus it fares,
And good can smooth the way to evil choice,
From hasty censure be the mind kept free.
He only judges right who weighs, compares,
And in the sternest sentence, which his voice
May utter, ne'er abandons Charity.
C.
(2) p. 83. _Down a swift stream, etc._, l. 14--
The manifold aspects of our sacred theme.
C.
(3) p. 86. _Bishops and Priests_, _etc._, l. 1--
... how blessed ...
C.
(4) p. 160, footnote [448]--
The extract is from _The Shepherd and the Calm_, p. 113, in
_Miscellany Poems on Several Occasions, written by a Lady,
Anne Finch, Countesse of W._, 1713.
(5) p. 306. _Fancy and Tradition_, l. 4--
Ere he took flight; the Sage in this alcove
MS.
(6) p. 307. _Fancy and Tradition_, l. 12--
There is an ampler page from which to quote,
MS.
(7) p. 342. _Adieu, Rydalian Laurels_, _etc._, l. 2--
As if not ignorant that days would come
MS.
(8) p. 358. _Stanzas suggested in a Steam-boat_, ll. 156-9--
Would merge, Idolatress of formal skill,
In her own systems, God's eternal will,
To her, despising faith in things unseen,
Matter and spirit are in one machine.
C.
END OF VOL. VII
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.
Transcriber's Notes:
Simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors were
corrected.
Punctuation normalized.
Anachronistic and non-standard spellings retained as printed.
Italics markup is enclosed in _underscores_.
Greek text is transliterated and enclosed in #number symbols#.
Dagger symbol is denoted as [dagger].