WeRead Powered by ReaderPub
The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 6 (of 8) cover

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 6 (of 8)

Chapter 24: NOVEMBER 1
Open in WeRead

Explore more books like this:

About This Book

A varied collection of lyric and narrative poems, odes, and meditative pieces that move between intimate responses to particular landscapes and broader classical or historical reflection. Recurring concerns include the relationship between humans and nature, memory and loss, spiritual contemplation, and reactions to public events; forms range from short lyrics and inscriptions to longer blank-verse meditations and dramatic scenes. Frequent classical allusions and moral questioning refract personal feeling into wider imaginative inquiry, while vivid depictions of rivers, hills, storms, and rural life provide concrete settings for elegiac, contemplative, and celebratory moods.

[54] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . some be weeds,

[55] 1820.

.    .    . Poesy
ms.
Which hath been tended long with all humility.

[56] 1836.

1820 and ms.
.    .    . of such sire .    .    .

[57] 1836.

And, tired with slights which he no more could brook,
1820 and ms.
Towards his native soil he cast a longing look.

[58] 1836.

1820 and ms.
.    .    . the amount .    .    .

[59] 1845.

1820 and ms.
.    .    . tusky boar hath fled in fear;

[60] 1832.

1820 and ms.
.    .    . tow'rds .    .    .

[61] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . in breasts .    .    .

[62] 1827.

1820.
May spotless Dian, Goddess of the chace,

[63] 1820.

ms.
When that which thou hast done .    .    .

[64] 1820.

ms.
The Lake .    .    .

[65] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . hearts .    .    .

[66] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . inborn .    .    .

[67] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . the .    .    .

[68] 1820.

ms.
A thorough penitent; .    .    .

[69] 1827.

1820.
Of vice,—of vice unable .    .    .
ms.
Of vice—henceforth unable .    .    .

FOOTNOTES:

[U] Brutus, reputed great-grandson of Æneas the Trojan Prince, the legendary founder of the British race—according to the story in Geoffrey of Monmouth's Chronicle—after a somewhat chequered career in Greece, consulted Diana where he should go and settle. To whom Diana in a vision replied:—

Brutus, far to the West, in th' Ocean wide,
Beyond the realm of Gaul, a land there lies,
Sea-girt it lies, where Giants dwelt of old,
Now void, it fits thy people; thither bend
Thy course, there shalt thou find a lasting seat,
There to thy sons another Troy shall rise,
And kings be born of thee....

"Brutus guided now," says Milton (following Monmouth), "by Divine conduct, speeds him towards the West."... After some adventures in the Adriatic and in Gaul, "with an easy course, arriving at Totness, in Devonshire, quickly perceives here to be the promised end of his labours.

"The island, not yet Britain but Albion, was in a manner desert, and inhospitable; kept only by a remnant of Giants; whose excessive Force and Tyrannie had consumed the rest. Them Brutus destroies, and to his people divides the Land, which with som reference to his own name, he henceforth calls Britain." (Milton's History of England, book i.)—Ed.

[V] Julius Caesar landed for the first time in Britain, 55 B.C.Ed.

[W] Compare The Solitary Reaper, II. 18-20 (vol. ii. p. 398):—

Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago.Ed.

[X] See note A on the previous page.—Ed.

[Y] Corineus, according to the old legend, was the chief of a Trojan race who came with Brutus into Aquitania, and afterwards into Britain. Cornwall fell to Corineus by lot, in the portioning out of the new territory, "the rather by him liked," says Milton, "for that the hugest Giants in Rocks and Caves were said to lurk still there; which kind of Monsters to deal with was his old exercise." (Milton's History of England, book i.)—Ed.

[Z] Compare To a Skylark (1825)—

Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home.Ed.

[AA] Locrine, Brutus' son, was engaged to marry Corineus' daughter, Guendolen. But, after defeating Humber, King of the Huns, and finding Estrildis, daughter of a German king, amongst the spoil, he took her captive. He married Guendolen, but loved Estrildis, and on the death of Corineus, he divorced Guendolen, and married Estrildis. The rest may be told in Milton's words: "Guendolen all in rage departs into Cornwal;... And gathering an army of her Father's Friends and Subjects, gives Battail to her Husband by the River Sture; wherein Locrine, shot with an arrow, ends his life. But not so ends the fury of Guendolen; for Estrildis, and her daughter Sabra, she throws into a River: and to leave a Monument of Revenge, proclaims that the Stream be henceforth called after the Damsel's name; which by length of time is changed now to Sabrina or Severn." (History of England, book i.)—Ed.

[AB] See note on the previous page.—Ed.

[AC] "Leir who next Reigned, had only three Daughters, and no Male Issue: governed laudably, and built Caer-Leir, now Leicester, on the bank of Sora. But at last, failing through Age, he determines to bestow his Daughters, and so among them to divide his Kingdom. Yet first to try which of them loved him best, (a Trial that might have made him, had he known as wisely how to try, as he seemed to know how much the trying behooved him) he resolves a simple resolution, to ask them solemnly in order; and which of them should profess largest, her to beleev. Gonorill the Eldest, apprehending too well her Father's weakness, makes answer invoking Heaven, That she loved him above her Soul. Therefore, quoth the old man, overjoyed, since thou so honourst my declined Age, to thee and the Husband whom thou shalt choose, I give the third part of my Realm. So fair a speeding for a few words soon uttered, was to Regan the second, ample instruction what to say. She on the same demand spares no protesting, and the Gods must witness that otherwise to express her thoughts she knew not, but that she loved him above all Creatures; and so receavs an equal reward with her Sister. But Cordeilla, the youngest, though hitherto best beloved, and now before her Eyes the rich and present hire of a little easie soothing, the danger also, and the loss likely to betide plain dealing, yet moves not from the solid purpose of a sincere and vertuous answer. Father, saith she, my love towards you, is as my duty bids; what should a Father seek, what can a Child promise more? they who pretend beyond this, flatter. When the old man, sorry to hear this, and wishing her to recall those words, persisted asking, with a loiall sadness at her Father's infirmity, but something on the sudden, harsh, and glancing, rather at her Sisters, then speaking her own mind, Two waies only, saith she, I have to answer what you require mee; the former, Your command is, I should recant; accept then this other which is left me; look how much you have, so much is your value, and so much I love you. Then hear thou, quoth Leir now all in passion, what thy ingratitude hath gained thee; because thou hast not reverenced thy aged father equall to thy Sisters, part in my Kingdom, or what else is mine reck'n to have none. And without delay gives in marriage his other Daughters, Gonorill to Maglannus Duke of Albana, Regan to Henninus Duke of Cornwal; with them in present half his Kingdom; the rest to follow at his Death. In the mean while Fame was not sparing to divulge the wisdom, and other Graces of Cordeilla, insomuch that Aganippus a great King in Gaul (however he came by his Greek name) seeks her to Wife, and nothing alter'd at the loss of her Dowry, receavs her gladly in such manner as she was sent him. After this King Leir, more and more drooping with years, became an easy prey to his Daughters and thir Husbands; who now by dayly encroachment had seis'd the whole Kingdom into thir hands: and the old King is put to sojorn with his Eldest Daughter, attended only by three score Knights. But they in a short while grudged at, as too numerous and disorderly for continuall guests, are reduced to thirty. Not brooking that affront, the old King betakes him to his second Daughter; but there also discord soon arising between the Servants of differing Masters in one Family, five only are suffer'd to attend him. Then back again he returns to the other; hoping that she his Eldest could not but have more pity on his Gray Hairs: but she now refuses to admitt him, unless he be content with one only of his followers. At last the remembrance of his youngest Cordeilla comes to his thoughts; and now acknowledging how true her words had bin, though with little hope from whom he had so injur'd, be it but to pay her the last recompence she can have from him, his confession of her wise forewarning, that so perhaps his misery, the prooff and experiment of her Wisdom, might somthing soft'n her, he takes his Journey into France. Now might be seen a difference between the silent, or downright spok'n affection of som Children to thir Parents, and the talkative obsequiousness of others: while the hope of Inheritance over-acts them, and on the Tongue's end enlarges thir duty. Cordeilla out of meer love, without the suspicion of expected reward, at the message only of her Father in distress, pours forth true filial tears. And not enduring either that her own, or any other Eye should see him in such forlorn condition as his Messenger declar'd, discreetly appoints one of her trusted Servants, first to convay him privately toward som good Sea Town, there to array him, bathe him, cherish him, furnish him with such Attendance and State, as beseem'd his Dignity. That then, as from his first Landing, he might send word of his Arrival to her Husband Aganippus. Which don with all mature and requisite contrivance, Cordeilla with the King her Husband, and all the Barony of his Realm, who then first had news of his passing the Sea, goe out to meet him; and after all honourable and joyfull entertainment, Aganippus, as to his Wives Father, and his Royall Guest, surrenders him, during his abode there, the power, and disposal of his whole Dominion; permitting his Wife Cordeilla to go with an Army, and set her Father upon his Throne. Wherein her piety so prospered, as that she vanquished her impious Sisters with those Dukes, and Leir again, as saith the story, three years obtained the Crown. To whom dying, Cordeilla with all regal Solemnities gave Burial in the Town of Leicester. And then as right Heir succeeding, and her Husband dead, rul'd the land five years in peace." (Milton, History of England, book i.)—Ed.

[AD] See Milton's History of England, book iii.—Ed.

[AE] The sword Excalibur, given to King Arthur by the Lady of the Lake. Compare Tennyson's Morte d'Arthur.—Ed.

[AF] The following is Milton's account of Gorbonian, Archigallo, and Elidure:—"Gorbonian the Eldest of his five Sons, then whom a juster man liv'd not in his Age, was a great builder of Temples, and gave to all what was thir due; to his Gods devout Worship, to men of desert honour and preferment; to the Commons encouragement in thir Labours, and Trades, defence and protection from injuries and oppressions, so that the Land florish'd above her Neighbours, Violence and Wrong seldom was heard of; his Death was a general loss; he was buried in Trinovant.

"Archigallo the second Brother followed not his Example; but depress'd the ancient Nobility, and by peeling the wealthier sort, stuff'd his Treasury, and took the right way to be depos'd.

"Elidure the next Brother, surnamed the Pious, was set up in his place; a mind so noble, and so moderat, as almost is incredible to have bin ever found. For having held the Scepter five years, hunting one day in the Forest of Calater, he chanc'd to meet his deposed Brother, wandering in mean condition; who had bin long in vain beyond the Seas, importuning Foren aides to his Restorement: and was now in a poor Habit, with only ten followers, privatly return'd to find subsistence among his secret friends. At the unexpected sight of him, Elidure himself also then but thinly accompanied, runs to him with open Arms; and after many dear and sincere welcomings, convaies him to the Citty Alclud; there hides him in his own Bed-Chamber. Afterwards faining himself sick, summons all his Peers as about greatest affairs; where admitting them one by one, as if his weakness endur'd not the disturbance of more at once, causes them, willing or unwilling, once more to swear Allegiance to Archigallo. Whom after reconciliation made on all sides, he leads to York: and from his own Head, places the Crown on the Head of his Brother, who thenceforth, Vice itself dissolving in him, and forgetting her firmest hold with the admiration of a deed so Heroic, became a true converted man: rul'd worthily 10 years; dy'd and was Buried in Caer-Leir. Thus was a Brother saved by a Brother, to whom love of a Crown, the thing that so often dazles, and vitiates mortal man, for which thousands of neerest blood have destroy'd each other, was in respect of Brotherly dearness, a contemptible thing." (Milton, History of England, book i.)—Ed.

[AG] The legendary story tells that Brutus, the founder of the British race, having come from Troy (see note [U] to p. 45), "in a chosen place builds Troia nova, changed in time to Trinovantum, now London."—Ed.

[AH] It may not be too insignificant to note that it was Diana, the "Goddess of the chase," whom Brutus, according to the legend, consulted as to where he should settle, and who directed him to the land "to the West, in th' Ocean wide." (See note [U] p. 45.)—Ed.

[AI] See Milton's History of England, quoted in footnote, p. 51.—Ed.

[AJ] The various (tentative) versions of Artegal and Elidure—especially of some of the stanzas—are more numerous than in the case of any other poem I have seen in MS., and several of them may be preserved.

Stanza 1

Where be the Temples which in Albion's Isle,
As stories tell, the Trojan Brutus reared?
The form and substance of each stately pile
Were gone, the very dust had disappeared;
Ere Julius reached the white-cliffed shore,
They sank, delivered o'er
To utter dissolution, whence I ween
A general doubt prevails, if such have ever been.
Sunk are the Temples which, as stories tell,
In Britain's Isle the Trojan Brutus reared,
For his transplanted Gods therein to dwell?
Ere Julius landed on the white-cliffed shore,
The sacred structures were delivered o'er
To utter desolation, whence I ween
A general doubt prevails if such have ever been.
Where be the Temples which in Britain's Isle,
As legends tell, the Trojan Founder reared?
Gone like a dream of morning, or a pile
{ Of glittering clouds that in the East appeared. }
{ Of gorgeous clouds that in the west appeared. }
Ere Julius landed on her white-cliffed shore,
They sank, delivered o'er
To fatal dissolution, and I ween
No vestige there was left that such had ever been.

Stanza 2

Yet in unvanquished Cambria lay concealed
'Mid Snowdon's forests, or by Vaga's springs,
A Book whose leaves to later times revealed
The {mighty|wondrous} course of these forgotten things,
How Brutus sailed, by oracles impelled,
And hideous giants quelled,
A Brood whom no civility could melt,
Who never tasted grace, and goodness ne'er had felt.
Yet in the wilds of Cambria lay concealed
By Snowdon's forests or by Vaga's springs,
A Book whose leaves to later time revealed
The wondrous course of {those|long} forgotten things;
How Brutus came, etc.
A British record that had lain concealed
In old Armorica (whose sacred springs
No Gothic conqueror ever drank) revealed
The wondrous course of those forgotten things;
How Brutus came, etc.

Stanza 3

By brave Corineus aided, he subdued
And rooted out the intolerable kind,
And this too long-polluted soil imbued
With {gentle|goodly} arts, and usages refined;
Whence golden harvests, cities, warlike towers,
{ And for soft pleasures, bowers,}
{ And pleasure's {fragrant|leafy} bowers, }
Whence all the fixed delights of house and home,
Friendship that will not break, and love that cannot roam.

Stanza 4

O happy Britain! region all too fair
For fondly-favouring Nature to endure
      *      *      *      *      *     *
      *      *      *      *      *     *
Lurked many a poisonous weed;

Stanza 6

Who has not wept the wrongs of aged Lear
By his ungrateful daughter turned adrift?
Hear him, ye elements!—they cannot hear,
Nor can the winds restore his simple gift,
But One there is, a child of nature meek,
Who comes her sire to seek;
And he, recovering sense, upon her breast
Leans smilingly, and sinks into a { happy/passing} rest.

Stanza 7

{Honoured, for ever honoured be the page,   }
{Prized be the Book, and honoured the Page,}
When England's Darling found a basis laid
To those dread scenes which on the tragic stage
To trembling multitudes his art displayed;
And to {that chronicle/the same for this} be praise decreed
That there men first did read
Of Merlin's insight into future years,
And all the mighty feats of Arthur and his peers.

Stanza 8

What wonder, then, if 'mid the vast domain
Of that rich Volume, one particular Flower
Hath breathed its fragrance seemingly in vain
And bloomed unnoticed even to this late hour,
Ye gentle Muses, your assistance grant,
While I this flower transplant
Into a garden pure of poesy,
Small garden which I tend in all humility.

The following (suppressed) Stanza followed No. 10

The winds and waves have aided him to reach
That coast, the object of his heart's desire,
But, while the crownless sovereign trod the beach,
His eyeballs kindle with resentful ire,
As if incensed with all that he beholds,
Dark fields, and naked wolds,
And these few Followers, a helpless band
That to his fortunes cleave, and wait on his command.

Stanza 12

{"Bear with me, Friends," said Artegal ashamed,}
{"Forgive this passion," Artegal exclaimed, }
And, as he spake, they dive into a wood,
And from its shady boughs protection claimed,
For light he fears, and open neighbourhood.
How changed from him who born to highest place

Stanza 13

Oft by imaginary terrors scared,
And sometimes into real dangers brought,
To Calaterium's forest he repaired,
And in its depth secure a refuge sought,
Thence to a few whom he esteems his friends
A messenger he sends,

Stanza 14

With his attendants here at break of morn,
Wandering by stealth abroad he chanced to hear
A startling outcry made by hound and horn,
From which the tusky Boar hath fled in fear,
And, etc.

Stanza 16

Feebly returned by {wandering/trembling} Artegal,

Stanza 17

{Heir of Gorbonian! Brother gladly met,  }
{Gorbonian's heir, my brother gladly met,}

Stanza 25

And what if o'er this bright unbosoming
A cloud of time, and envious fortune past!
Have we not seen the glories of the spring
By noontide darkness veiled and overcast?
The lakes that glittered like a sunbright shield,
The sky, the gay green field,
All vanish in a moment, as if night
Were sister to the sun, and darkness born of light.

Stanza 26

But should the sun victorious glimmer forth,
Far brighter seems the wide world than before:
Such power is latent in thy native worth,
To spread delight and joy from shore to shore:
For past misdeeds how grateful to atone,
Re-seated on thy throne,
Give proof that long adversity, and pain,
And sorrow have confirmed thy inborn right to reign.

From Stanza 28 to end

The story tells that Artegal away
Was by his brother privily conveyed
To a far distant city (at that day
Alclwyd named), whose fortress undismayed
By the hostility of mortals stood
In sight of field and flood,
Obnoxious only on the lofty Rock
To the careering storm, and perilous lightning stroke.
When this impregnable retreat was gained,
In prudent furtherance of his just intent,
King Elidure a mortal illness feigned,
And to his mightiest Lords a summons sent
Softly, and one by one into the gloom,
(As suits a sick man's room),
The attendants introduced each potent peer,
There, singly and alone, his sovereign will to hear.
Said Elidure, Behold our rightful King,
The banished Artegal, before thee stands:
Kneel, and renew to him the offering
Of thy allegiance; justice this demands,
Immortal justice, speaking through my voice,
Accept him, and rejoice.
    .        .        .        .  he will prove
Worthier than I have been of reverence and love.
If firm command and mild persuasion failed
To change the temper of an adverse mind,
With such by other engines he prevailed,
Threatening to fling their bodies to the wind
From the dread summit of the lonely block,
That castle-crested Rock,
Alclwyd then, but now Dunbarton named,
A memorable crag through spacious Albion famed.
Departing thence, to York their way they bent,
While the glad people flowers before them strewed,
And then King Elidure with full consent
Of all his peers, before the multitude
Upon his brother's head he placed the crown,
Relinquished by his own;
Triumph of justice, and affection pure,
Whence he the title gained of "pious Elidure."
The people answered with a loud acclaim,
Through admiration of the heroic deed.
The reinstated Artegal became
Earth's noblest penitent; from bondage freed
Of vice, henceforth unable to control
The motions of his soul.
{And when he died, the worthy and the brave }
{Shed tears of fond regret upon his honoured grave. }
{Long did he reign: and, when he died, the tear }
{Of fond regret was shed upon his honoured bier.     }
Thus was a Brother by a Brother saved.
With whom a crown (temptation that hath set
Discord in hearts of men till they have braved
Their nearest kin in deadly battle met),
With duty weighed, and faithful love did seem
A thing of no esteem;
And from this triumph of affection pure,
He won the lasting name of "pious Elidure."

TO B. R. HAYDON

Composed December 1815.—Published March 31, 1816.

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." The title "Esq." was appended to the name in the editions of 1820 to 1832.—Ed.

High is our calling, Friend!—Creative Art
(Whether the instrument of words she use,
Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues)
Demands the service of a mind and heart,
5
Though sensitive, yet, in their weakest part,
Heroically fashioned—to infuse
Faith in the whispers of the lonely Muse,
While the whole world seems adverse to desert.
And, oh! when Nature sinks, as oft she may
10
Through long-lived pressure of obscure distress,
Still to be strenuous for the bright reward,
And in the soul admit of no decay,
Brook no continuance of weak-mindedness—
Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!

This sonnet was first published in The Examiner (March 31, 1816). It was composed in December 1815. On November 27, Haydon wrote to Wordsworth: "I have benefited, and have been supported in the troubles of life by your poetry. I will bear want, pain, misery, and blindness, but I will never yield one step I have gained on the road I am determined to travel over." (See his Correspondence and Table Talk, vol. ii. pp. 19, 20.) To this Wordsworth replied in the following letter which is explanatory of the above sonnet, and of the two sonnets that follow it.

"Rydal Mount, near Ambleside,
December 21st, 1815.

      *      *      *      *      *      *

"Now for the poems, which are sonnets: one composed the evening I received your letter; the other the next day; and the third the day following. I shall not transcribe them in the order in which they were written, but inversely.

"The last you will find was occasioned, I might say inspired, by your last letter, if there be any inspiration in it; the second records a feeling excited in me by the object it describes in the month of October last; and the first by a still earlier sensation, which the revolution of the year impressed me with last autumn."

(Then follow the three sonnets transcribed in the following order—

"While not a leaf seems faded; while the fields."
"How clear, how keen, how marvellously bright."
"High is our calling, Friend!—Creative Art.")

      *      *      *      *      *      *

"With high respect, I am, my dear sir, most faithfully yours.
"William Wordsworth."

(See the Autobiography of B. R. Haydon, vol. i. chap. xvi. p. 325.)

Haydon replied to Wordsworth, December 29 (see his Correspondence, vol. ii. pp. 20-23): "I must say that I have felt melancholy ever since receiving your sonnets, as if I was elevated so exceedingly, with such a drunken humming in my brain, that my nature took refuge in quiet humbleness and gratitude to God."

It will be observed that in his letter of December 21, Wordsworth mentions the order in which these three sonnets were composed in three consecutive days. In his subsequent arrangement of the sonnets he altered this order, assigning "While not a leaf seems faded" to "September," and "How clear, how keen," to "November 1" (another instance of the inaccuracy of his dates). The detailed statement in this letter to Haydon must be trusted, however, in preference to the "afterthought" of the editions of 1820 and 1827. It may not be superfluous to note the dates of the first publication of this trilogy of sonnets, all of which Wordsworth sent to The Examiner.

"How clear, how keen," etc.Jan. 28th.     }
"While not a leaf," etc. Feb. 11th.     } 1816.
"High is our calling," etc. March 31st.  }
Ed.

NOVEMBER 1

Composed October 1815.—Published January 28, 1816

[Suggested on the banks of the Brathay by the sight of Langdale Pikes. It is delightful to remember these moments of far-distant days, which probably would have been forgotten if the impression had not been transferred to verse. The same observation applies to the next.[AK]—I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." In the editions of 1816 and 1820 the title was November 1, 1815.—Ed.

How clear, how keen, how marvellously bright
The effluence from yon distant mountain's head,
Which, strewn with snow smooth as the sky can shed,[70]
Shines like another sun—on mortal sight
5
Uprisen, as if to check approaching Night,
And all her twinkling stars. Who now would tread,
If so he might, yon mountain's glittering head—
Terrestrial, but a surface, by the flight
Of sad mortality's earth-sullying wing,
10
Unswept, unstained? Nor shall the aërial Powers
Dissolve that beauty, destined to endure,
White, radiant, spotless, exquisitely pure,
Through all vicissitudes, till genial Spring
Has[71] filled the laughing vales with welcome flowers.

This sonnet originally appeared in The Examiner, January 28, 1816. It is rare indeed, if ever, that the Langdale Pikes retain the first snows of November till spring; although, as described in another poem, the cove on Helvellyn, in which Red Tarn lies—sheltered from the sun, and high up on the mountain—may

Keep till June December's snow.

See Fidelity (vol. iii. p. 44), and the note to the sonnet addressed to Haydon, p. 62 of this vol.—Ed.


VARIANTS:

[70] 1837.

1816.
.    .    . as smooth as Heaven can shed,
1832.
.    .    . smooth as the heaven can shed,

[71] 1838.

1816.
Have .    .    .

FOOTNOTES:

[AK] i.e. the sonnet entitled Composed during a Storm, which followed November 1 in the edition in which the Fenwick notes first appeared.


SEPTEMBER, 1815

Composed October 1815.—Published February 11, 1816

["For me, who under kindlier laws." This conclusion has more than once, to my great regret, excited painfully sad feelings in the hearts of young persons fond of poetry and poetic composition, by contrast of their feeble and declining health with that state of robust constitution which prompted me to rejoice in a season of frost and snow as more favourable to the Muses than summer itself.—I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.