Wordsworth's Poetical Works, Volume 2

Variant 2:

1827
In all my walks, through field or town, Such Figure had I never seen: Her face was of Egyptian brown: Fit person was she for a Queen,	1807
Such figure had I never seen In all my walks through field or town, Fit person seemed she for a Queen,	C.

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Variant 3:

1836
To head ...	1807

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Variant 4:

1845
Before me begging did she stand, Pouring out sorrows like a sea; Grief after grief:—on English Land Such woes I knew could never be;	1807
Her suit no faltering scruples checked; Forth did she pour, in current free, Tales that could challenge no respect But from a blind credulity;	1827
She begged an alms; no scruple checked The current of her ready plea, Words that could challenge ...	1832
Before me begging did she stand And boldly urged a doleful plea, Grief after grief, on English land Such woes I knew could never be.	C.

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Variant 5:

1807
With yellow flowers around, as with a golden band.	C.

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Variant 6:

1827
And they both ...	1807

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Variant 7:

1820
Two Brothers seem'd they, eight and ten years old; And like that Woman's face as gold is like to gold.	1807

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Variant 8:

This stanza was added in the edition of 1827.

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Variant 9:

1836
Precursors of ...	1827

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Variant 10:

1827
They bolted on me thus, and lo!	1807

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Variant 11:

1827
"Nay but I gave her pence, and she will buy you bread."	1807

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Variant 12:

1845
"Sweet Boys, you're telling me a lie;	1807
... Heaven hears that rash reply;	1827

The text of 1807 was resumed in 1836.

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Variant 13:

1827
... they both together flew.	1807
... the thoughtless vagrants flew.	C.

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Footnote A:

The spot is easily identified, as the quarry still exists.—Ed.

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Footnote B:

In the MS. of this poem (1807) the words, "a weed of glorious feature," are placed within inverted commas. The quotation is from Spenser's Muiopotmos (The Fate of the Butterflie), stanza 27; and is important, as it affects the meaning of the phrase. It is curious that Wordsworth dropped the commas in his subsequent editions.—Ed.

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Footnote C:

In Wordsworth's letter to Barron Field, of 24th October 1828 (see the volumes containing his correspondence), a detailed account is given of the reasons which had led him to alter the text of this poem.—Ed.

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Contents 1802
Main Contents

Sequel to the Foregoing

Composed Many Years After

Composed 1817.—Published 1827

In the edition of 1840 the year assigned to this Sequel is 1817. It does not occur in the edition of 1820, but was first published in 1827. It was one of the "Poems of the Imagination."—Ed.

The Poem

text	variant	footnote	line number
Where are they now, those wanton Boys? For whose free range the dædal earth Was filled with animated toys, And implements of frolic mirth; With tools for ready wit to guide; And ornaments of seemlier pride, More fresh, more bright, than princes wear; For what one moment flung aside, Another could repair; What good or evil have they seen Since I their pastime witnessed here, Their daring wiles, their sportive cheer? I ask—but all is dark between! They met me in a genial hour, When universal nature breathed As with the breath of one sweet flower,— A time to overrule the power Of discontent, and check the birth Of thoughts with better thoughts at strife, The most familiar bane of life Since parting Innocence bequeathed Mortality to Earth! Soft clouds, the whitest of the year, Sailed through the sky—the brooks ran clear; The lambs from rock to rock were bounding; With songs the budded groves resounding; And to my heart are still endeared The thoughts with which it then was cheered; The faith which saw that gladsome pair Walk through the fire with unsinged hair. Or, if such faith must needs deceive— Then, Spirits of beauty and of grace, Associates in that eager chase; Ye, who within the blameless mind Your favourite seat of empire find— Kind Spirits! may we not believe That they, so happy and so fair Through your sweet influence, and the care Of pitying Heaven, at least were free From touch of deadly injury? Destined, whate'er their earthly doom, For mercy and immortal bloom? Contents 1802 Main Contents	1 2 3	A	5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40

Variant 1:

Spirits of beauty and of grace!
Associates in that eager chase;
Ye, by a course to nature true,
The sterner judgment can subdue;
And waken a relenting smile
When she encounters fraud or guile;
And sometimes ye can charm away
The inward mischief, or allay,
Ye, who within the blameless mind
Your favourite seat of empire find!

The above is a separate stanza in the editions of 1827 and 1832. Only the first two and the last two lines of this stanza were retained in the edition of 1836, and were then transferred to the place they occupy in the final text.—Ed.

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Variant 2:

1836
And to my heart is still endeared The faith with which ...	1827

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Variant 3:

1836
... such thoughts ...	1827

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Footnote A:

This and the three following lines were placed here in the edition of 1836. See note to the previous page.—Ed.

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Contents 1802
Main Contents

To a Butterfly (1)

Composed March 14, 1802.—Published 1807

The Poem

[Written in the Orchard, Town-end, Grasmere. My sister and I were parted immediately after the death of our mother, who died in 1778, both being very young.—I. F.]

One of the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood." —Ed.

The Poem

text	variant	footnote	line number
Stay near me—do not take thy flight! A little longer stay in sight! Much converse do I find in thee, Historian of my infancy! Float near me; do not yet depart! Dead times revive in thee: Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art! A solemn image to my heart, My father's family! Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days, The time, when, in our childish plays, My sister Emmeline and I Together chased the butterfly! A very hunter did I rush Upon the prey:—with leaps and springs I followed on from brake to bush; But she, God love her! feared to brush The dust from off its wings. Note Contents 1802 Main Contents		A	5 10 15

Footnote A:

In the MS. for the edition of 1807 the transcriber (not W. W.) wrote "Dorothy." This, Wordsworth erased, putting in "Emmeline."—Ed.

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Note:

The text of this poem was never changed. It refers to days of childhood spent at Cockermouth before 1778. "My sister Emmeline" is Dorothy Wordsworth. In her Grasmere Journal, of Sunday, March 14, 1802, the following occurs:

"While we were at breakfast he" (William) "wrote the poem To a Butterfly. He ate not a morsel, but sate with his shirt neck unbuttoned, and his waistcoat open when he did it. The thought first came upon him as we were talking about the pleasure we both always felt at the sight of a butterfly. I told him that I used to chase them a little, but that I was afraid of brushing the dust off their wings, and did not catch them. He told me how he used to kill all the white ones when he went to school, because they were Frenchmen. Mr. Simpson came in just as he was finishing the poem. After he was gone, I wrote it down, and the other poems, and I read them all over to him.... William began to try to alter The Butterfly, and tired himself."

Compare the later poem To a Butterfly (2) (April 20), p. 297. —Ed.

Contents 1802
Main Contents

The Emigrant Mother

Composed March 16th and 17th, 1802.—Published 1807

The Poem

[Suggested by what I have noticed in more than one French fugitive during the time of the French Revolution. If I am not mistaken the lines were composed at Sockburn when I was on a visit to Mary and her brothers.—I. F.]

In the editions of 1807 and 1815, this poem had no distinctive title; but in the Wordsworth circle, it was known from the year 1802 as The Emigrant Mother, and at least one copy was transcribed with this title in 1802. It was first published under that name in 1820. It was revised and altered in 1820, 1827, 1832, 1836, and more especially in 1845.

In Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal the following entries occur:

"Tuesday (March 16).—William went up into the orchard, and wrote a part of The Emigrant Mother."

"Wednesday.—William went up into the orchard, and finished the poem.... I went and sate with W., and walked backwards and forwards in the orchard till dinner-time. He read me his poem."

This poem was included among those "founded on the Affections."—Ed.

The Poem

stanza	text	variant	footnote	line number
	Once in a lonely hamlet I sojourned In which a Lady driven from France did dwell; The big and lesser griefs with which she mourned, In friendship she to me would often tell.
	This Lady, dwelling upon British ground, Where she was childless, daily would repair To a poor neighbouring cottage; as I found, For sake of a young Child whose home was there.	1 / 2 3		5
	Once having seen her clasp with fond embrace This Child, I chanted to myself a lay, Endeavouring, in our English tongue, to trace Such things as she unto the Babe might say: And thus, from what I heard and knew, or guessed, My song the workings of her heart expressed.	4 5		10
I	"Dear Babe, thou daughter of another, One moment let me be thy mother! An infant's face and looks are thine And sure a mother's heart is mine: Thy own dear mother's far away, At labour in the harvest field: Thy little sister is at play;— What warmth, what comfort would it yield To my poor heart, if thou wouldst be One little hour a child to me!			15 20
II	"Across the waters I am come, And I have left a babe at home: A long, long way of land and sea! Come to me—I'm no enemy: I am the same who at thy side Sate yesterday, and made a nest For thee, sweet Baby!—thou hast tried, Thou know'st the pillow of my breast; Good, good art thou:—alas! to me Far more than I can be to thee.			25 30
III	"Here, little Darling, dost thou lie; An infant thou, a mother I! Mine wilt thou be, thou hast no fears; Mine art thou—spite of these my tears. Alas! before I left the spot, My baby and its dwelling-place; The nurse said to me, 'Tears should not Be shed upon an infant's face, It was unlucky'—no, no, no; No truth is in them who say so!			35 40
IV	"My own dear Little-one will sigh, Sweet Babe! and they will let him die. 'He pines,' they'll say, 'it is his doom, And you may see his hour is come.' Oh! had he but thy cheerful smiles, Limbs stout as thine, and lips as gay, Thy looks, thy cunning, and thy wiles, And countenance like a summer's day, They would have hopes of him;—and then I should behold his face again!			45 50
V	"'Tis gone—like dreams that we forget; There was a smile or two—yet—yet I can remember them, I see The smiles, worth all the world to me. Dear Baby! I must lay thee down; Thou troublest me with strange alarms; Smiles hast thou, bright ones of thy own; I cannot keep thee in my arms; For they confound me;—where—where is That last, that sweetest smile of his?	6 7 8		55 60
VI	"Oh! how I love thee!—we will stay Together here this one half day. My sister's child, who bears my name, From France to sheltering England came; She with her mother crossed the sea; The babe and mother near me dwell: Yet does my yearning heart to thee Turn rather, though I love her well: Rest, little Stranger, rest thee here! Never was any child more dear!	9 10		65 70
VII	"—I cannot help it; ill intent I've none, my pretty Innocent! I weep—I know they do thee wrong, These tears—and my poor idle tongue. Oh, what a kiss was that! my cheek How cold it is! but thou art good; So Thine eyes are on me—they would speak, I think, to help me if they could. Blessings upon that soft, warm face, My heart again is in its place!	11 12		75 80
VIII	"While thou art mine, my little Love, This cannot be a sorrowful grove; Contentment, hope, and mother's glee, I seem to find them all in thee: Here's grass to play with, here are flowers; I'll call thee by my darling's name; Thou hast, I think, a look of ours, Thy features seem to me the same; His little sister thou shalt be; And, when once more my home I see, I'll tell him many tales of Thee." Contents 1802 Main Contents	13 14		85 90 95

Variant 1:

1807
This Mother ...	MS.

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Variant 2:

1845
... English ...	1807

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Variant 3:

1827
... did ...	1807

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Variant 4:

1845
Once did I see her clasp the Child about, And take it to herself; and I, next day, Wish'd in my native tongue to fashion out Such things as she unto this Child might say:	1807
Once did I see her take with fond embrace This Infant to herself; and I, next day, Endeavoured in my native tongue to trace Such things as she unto the Child might say:	1820
Once, having seen her take with fond embrace This Infant to herself, I framed a lay, Endeavouring, in my native tongue, to trace	1827

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