"AND IS IT AMONG RUDE UNTUTORED
DALES"
Composed 1809.—Published 1809[A]
This and the remaining sonnets of 1809 were placed among
those "dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.
And is it among rude untutored Dales,[1]
There, and there only, that the heart is true?
And, rising to repel or to subdue,
Is it by rocks and woods that man prevails?
Ah no! though Nature's dread protection fails, 5
There is a bulwark in the soul.[2] This knew
Iberian Burghers when the sword they drew
In Zaragoza, naked to the gales
Of fiercely-breathing war. The truth was felt
By Palafox, and many a brave compeer, 10
Like him of noble birth and noble mind;
By ladies, meek-eyed women without fear;
And wanderers of the street, to whom is dealt
The bread which without industry they find.
Palafox-y-Melzi, Don Joseph (1780-1847), immortalized by
his heroic defence of Saragossa in 1808-9. He was of an old
Aragon family, and entered the Spanish army at an early age.
In 1808, when twenty-nine years of age, he was appointed
governor of Saragossa, by the people of the town, who were
menaced by the French armies. He defended it with a few
men, against immense odds, and compelled the French to
abandon the siege, after sixty-one days' attack, and the loss of
thousands. Saragossa, however, was too important to lose, and
Marshals Mortier and Moncy renewed the siege with a large
army. Palafox (twice defeated outside) retired to the fortress
as before, where the men, women, and children fought in
defence, till the city was almost a heap of ruins. Typhus
attacked the garrison within, while the French army assailed it
from without. Palafox, smitten by the fever, had to give up
the command to another, who signed a capitulation next day.
He was sent a prisoner to Vincennes, and kept there for nearly
five years, till the restoration of Ferdinand VII., when he was
sent back on a secret mission to Madrid. In 1814 he was
appointed Captain-General of Aragon; but for about thirty
years—till his death in 1847—he took no part in public affairs.—Ed.
VARIANTS:
FOOTNOTES:
"O'ER THE WIDE EARTH, ON MOUNTAIN
AND ON PLAIN"
Composed 1809.—Published 1809[A]
O'er the wide earth, on mountain and on plain,
Dwells in the affections and the soul of man
A Godhead, like the universal Pan;[B]
But more exalted, with a brighter train:
And shall his bounty be dispensed in vain, 5
Showered equally on city and on field,
And neither hope nor stedfast promise yield
In these usurping times of fear and pain?
Such doom awaits us. Nay, forbid it Heaven!
We know the arduous strife, the eternal laws 10
To which the triumph of all good is given,
High sacrifice, and labour without pause,
Even to the death:—else wherefore should the eye
Of man converse with immortality?
FOOTNOTES:
"HAIL, ZARAGOZA! IF WITH UNWET EYE"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Hail, Zaragoza! If with unwet eye
We can approach, thy sorrow to behold,
Yet is the heart not pitiless nor cold;
Such spectacle demands not tear or sigh.
These desolate remains are trophies high 5
Of more than martial courage in the breast
Of peaceful civic virtue:[A] they attest
Thy matchless worth to all posterity.
Blood flowed before thy sight without remorse;
Disease consumed thy vitals; War upheaved 10
The ground beneath thee with volcanic force:
Dread trials! yet encountered and sustained
Till not a wreck of help or hope remained,
And law was from necessity[1] received.[B]
See note to the sonnet beginning "And is it among rude untutored
Dales" (p. 222). "Saragossa surrendered February 20,
1809, after a heroic defence, which may recall the sieges of
Numantiaor Saguntum. Every street, almost every house, had
been hotly contested; the monks, and even the women, had
taken a conspicuous share in the defence; more than 40,000
bodies of both sexes and every age testified to the obstinate
courage of the besieged." (See Dyer's History of Modern Europe,
vol. iv. p. 496.)—Ed.
VARIANTS:
FOOTNOTES:
"SAY, WHAT IS HONOUR?—'TIS THE
FINEST SENSE"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Say, what is Honour?—'Tis the finest sense
Of justice which the human mind can frame,
Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim,
And guard the way of life from all offence
Suffered or done. When lawless violence 5
Invades a Realm, so pressed that in the scale[1]
Of perilous war her weightiest armies fail,
Honour is hopeful elevation,—whence
Glory, and triumph. Yet with politic skill
Endangered States may yield to terms unjust; 10
Stoop their proud heads, but not unto the dust—
A Foe's most favourite purpose to fulfil:
Happy occasions oft by self-mistrust
Are forfeited; but infamy doth kill.
VARIANTS:
"BRAVE SCHILL! BY DEATH DELIVERED,
TAKE THY FLIGHT"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Brave Schill! by death delivered, take thy flight
From Prussia's timid region. Go, and rest
With heroes, 'mid the islands of the Blest,
Or in the fields of empyrean light.
A meteor wert thou crossing a dark night:[1] 5
Yet shall thy name, conspicuous and sublime,
Stand in the spacious firmament of time,
Fixed as a star: such glory is thy right.
Alas! it may not be: for earthly fame
Is Fortune's frail dependant; yet their lives 10
A Judge, who, as man claims by merit, gives;
To whose all-pondering mind a noble aim,
Faithfully kept, is as a noble deed;
In whose pure sight all virtue doth succeed.
Ferdinand von Schill, a distinguished Prussian officer, born
1773, entered the army 1789, was seriously wounded in the
battle of Jena, but took the field again at the head of a free
corps. Indignant at the subjection of his country to Buonaparte,
he resolved to make a great effort for the liberation of Germany,
collected a small body of troops, and commenced operations on
the Elbe; but after a few successes was overpowered and slain
at Stralsund, May 31, 1809. On June 4, 1809, Wordsworth
writing to Daniel Stewart, editor of The Courier newspaper,
says, "Many thanks for the newspaper. Schill is a fine fellow."
The sonnet was doubtless inspired by what he thus heard of
Schill.—Ed.
VARIANTS:
"CALL NOT THE ROYAL SWEDE
UNFORTUNATE"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Call not the royal Swede unfortunate,
Who never did to Fortune bend the knee;
Who slighted fear; rejected steadfastly
Temptation; and whose kingly name and state
Have "perished by his choice, and not his fate!" 5
Hence lives He, to his inner self endeared;
And hence, wherever virtue is revered,
He sits a more exalted Potentate,
Throned in the hearts of men. Should Heaven ordain
That this great Servant of a righteous cause 10
Must still have sad or vexing thoughts to endure,
Yet may a sympathizing spirit pause,
Admonished by these truths, and quench all pain
In thankful joy and gratulation pure.
The royal Swede, "who never did to Fortune bend the knee,"
was Gustavus IV. He abdicated in 1809, and came to London
at the close of the year 1810. Compare the earlier sonnet on
the same King of Sweden (vol. ii. p. 338), beginning—
The Voice of song from distant lands shall call.
In the edition of 1827, Wordsworth added the following
note:—"In this and a former Sonnet, in honour of the same
Sovereign, let me be understood as a Poet availing himself of
the situation which the King of Sweden occupied, and of
the principles avowed in his manifestos; as laying hold of
these advantages for the purpose of embodying moral truths.
This remark might, perhaps, as well have been suppressed;
for to those who may be in sympathy with the course of these
Poems, it will be superfluous; and will, I fear, be thrown away
upon that other class, whose besotted admiration of the intoxicated
despot here placed in contrast with him, is the most
melancholy evidence of degradation in British feeling and
intellect which the times have furnished."—Ed.
"LOOK NOW ON THAT ADVENTURER WHO
HATH PAID"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Look now on that Adventurer who hath paid
His vows to Fortune; who, in cruel slight
Of virtuous hope, of liberty, and right,
Hath followed wheresoe'er a way was made
By the blind Goddess,—ruthless, undismayed; 5
And so hath gained at length a prosperous height,
Round which the elements of worldly might
Beneath his haughty feet, like clouds, are laid.
O joyless power that stands by lawless force!
Curses are his dire portion, scorn, and hate, 10
Internal darkness and unquiet breath;
And, if old judgments keep their sacred course,
Him from that height shall Heaven precipitate
By violent and ignominious death.
The "Adventurer" who "paid his vows to Fortune," in
contrast to the royal Swede "who never did to Fortune bend
the knee," was of course Napoleon Buonaparte.—Ed.
"IS THERE A POWER THAT CAN SUSTAIN
AND CHEER"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Is there a power that can sustain and cheer
The captive chieftain, by a tyrant's doom,
Forced to descend into his destined tomb—[1]
A dungeon dark! where he must waste the year,
And lie cut off from all his heart holds dear; 5
What time his injured country is a stage
Whereon deliberate Valour and the rage
Of righteous Vengeance side by side appear,
Filling from morn to night the heroic scene
With deeds of hope and everlasting praise:— 10
Say can he think of this with mind serene
And silent fetters? Yes, if visions bright
Shine on his soul, reflected from the days
When he himself was tried in open light.
This may refer to Palafox, alluded to in the sonnet (p. 222)
beginning, "And is it among rude untutored Dales," and in
the one next in order in the series (p. 223); although, from the
latter sonnet, it would seem that Wordsworth did not know
that Palafox was, in 1809, a prisoner at Vincennes.
In his edition of the poems published in 1837, Professor
Henry Reed of Philadelphia said, "He must be dull of heart
who, in perusing this series of Poems 'dedicated to Liberty,'
does not feel his affection for his own country—wherever it
may be—and his love of freedom, under whatever form of
government his lot may have been cast—at once invigorated and
chastened into a purer and more thoughtful emotion."—Ed.
VARIANTS:
EPITAPHS TRANSLATED FROM CHIABRERA
[Those from Chiabrera were chiefly translated when Mr.
Coleridge was writing his Friend, in which periodical my
"Essay on Epitaphs," written about that time, was first
published. For further notice of Chiabrera, in connection with
his Epitaphs, see Musings near Aquapendente.—I. F.]
It is better to print all the Epitaphs from Chiabrera together,
than to spread them out over the years when they were written
or published. Some of them were certainly written in 1809, or
at least before 1810; others at a later date. But it is impossible
to say in what year those published after 1810 were composed.
They are all to be found in the class of "Epitaphs and Elegiac
Pieces."—Ed.
I
"WEEP NOT, BELOVÈD FRIENDS! NOR LET
THE AIR"
Published 1837
Weep not, belovèd Friends! nor let the air
For me with sighs be troubled. Not from life
Have I been taken; this is genuine life
And this alone—the life which now I live
In peace eternal; where desire and joy 5
Together move in fellowship without end.—
Francesco Ceni willed that, after death,
His tombstone thus should speak for him.[1] And surely
Small cause there is for that fond wish of ours
Long to continue in this world; a world 10
That keeps not faith, nor yet can point a hope
To good, whereof itself is destitute.
VARIANTS:
II
"PERHAPS SOME NEEDFUL SERVICE OF
THE STATE"
Published 1810[A]
Perhaps some needful service of the State
Drew Titus from the depth of studious bowers,
And doomed him to contend in faithless courts,
Where gold determines between right and wrong.
Yet did at length his loyalty of heart, 5
And his pure native genius, lead him back
To wait upon the bright and gracious Muses,
Whom he had early loved. And not in vain
Such course he held! Bologna's learned schools
Were gladdened by the Sage's voice, and hung 10
With fondness on those sweet Nestorian strains.[1]
There pleasure crowned his days; and all his thoughts
A roseate fragrance breathed.[2][B]—O human life,
That never art secure from dolorous change!
Behold a high injunction suddenly 15
To Arno's side hath brought him,[3] and he charmed
A Tuscan audience: but full soon was called
To the perpetual silence of the grave.
Mourn, Italy, the loss of him who stood
A Champion stedfast and invincible, 20
To quell the rage of literary War!
VARIANTS:
FOOTNOTES:
III
"O THOU WHO MOVEST ONWARD WITH A
MIND"
Published 1810[A]
O Thou who movest onward with a mind
Intent upon thy way, pause, though in haste!
'Twill be no fruitless moment. I was born
Within Savona's walls, of gentle blood.
On Tiber's banks my youth was dedicate 5
To sacred studies; and the Roman Shepherd
Gave to my charge Urbino's numerous flock.
Well[1] did I watch, much laboured, nor had power
To escape from many and strange indignities;
Was smitten by the great ones of the world, 10
But did not fall; for Virtue braves all shocks,
Upon herself resting immoveably.
Me did a kindlier fortune then invite
To serve the glorious Henry, King of France,
And in his hands I saw a high reward 15
Stretched out for my acceptance,—but Death came.
Now, Reader, learn from this my fate, how false,
How treacherous to her promise, is the world;
And trust in God—to whose eternal doom
Must bend the sceptred Potentates of earth. 20
VARIANTS:
FOOTNOTES:
IV
"THERE NEVER BREATHED A MAN WHO,
WHEN HIS LIFE"
Published 1809[A]
There never breathed a man who, when his life
Was closing, might not of that life relate
Toils long and hard.—The warrior will report
Of wounds, and bright swords flashing in the field,
And blast of trumpets. He who hath been doomed 5
To bow his forehead in the courts of kings,
Will tell of fraud and never-ceasing hate,
Envy and heart-inquietude, derived
From intricate cabals of treacherous friends.
I, who on shipboard lived from earliest youth, 10
Could represent the countenance horrible
Of the vexed waters, and the indignant rage
Of Auster and Boötes. Fifty[1] years
Over the well-steered galleys did I rule:—
From huge Pelorus to the Atlantic pillars, 15
Rises no mountain to mine eyes unknown;
And the broad gulfs I traversed oft and oft:
Of every cloud which in the heavens might stir
I knew the force; and hence the rough sea's pride
Availed not to my Vessel's overthrow. 20
What noble pomp and frequent have not I
On regal decks beheld! yet in the end
I learned[2] that one poor moment can suffice
To equalise the lofty and the low.
We sail the sea of life—a Calm One finds, 25
And One a Tempest—and, the voyage o'er,
Death is the quiet haven of us all.
If more of my condition ye would know,
Savona was my birth-place, and I sprang
Of noble parents: seventy[3] years and three 30
Lived I—then yielded to a slow disease.
VARIANTS:
FOOTNOTES:
V
"TRUE IS IT THAT AMBROSIO SALINERO"
Published 1837
True is it that Ambrosio Salinero
With an untoward fate was long involved
In odious litigation; and full long,
Fate harder still! had he to endure assaults
Of racking malady. And true it is 5
That not the less a frank courageous heart
And buoyant spirit triumphed over pain;
And he was strong to follow in the steps
Of the fair Muses. Not a covert path
Leads to the dear Parnassian forest's shade, 10
That might from him be hidden; not a track
Mounts to pellucid Hippocrene, but he
Had traced its windings.—This Savona knows,
Yet no sepulchral honours to her Son
She paid, for in our age the heart is ruled 15
Only by gold. And now a simple stone
Inscribed with this memorial here is raised
By his bereft, his lonely, Chiabrera.
Think not, O Passenger! who read'st the lines
That an exceeding love hath dazzled me; 20
No—he was One whose memory ought to spread
Where'er Permessus bears an honoured name,
And live as long as its pure stream shall flow.[A]
FOOTNOTES:
VI
"DESTINED TO WAR FROM VERY INFANCY"
Published 1809[A]
Destined to war from very infancy
Was I, Roberto Dati, and I took
In Malta the white symbol of the Cross:
Nor in life's vigorous season did I shun
Hazard or toil; among the sands was seen 5
Of Libya; and not seldom, on the banks
Of wide Hungarian Danube, 'twas my lot
To hear the sanguinary trumpet sounded.
So lived I, and repined not at such fate:
This only grieves me, for it seems a wrong, 10
That stripped of arms I to my end am brought
On the soft down of my paternal home.
Yet haply Arno shall be spared all cause
To blush for me. Thou, loiter not nor halt
In thy appointed way, and bear in mind 15
How fleeting and how frail is human life!
FOOTNOTES:
VII
"O FLOWER OF ALL THAT SPRINGS FROM
GENTLE BLOOD"
Published 1837
O flower of all that springs from gentle blood,
And all that generous nurture breeds to make
Youth amiable; O friend so true of soul
To fair Aglaia; by what envy moved,
Lelius! has death cut short thy brilliant day 5
In its sweet opening? and what dire mishap
Has from Savona torn her best delight?
For thee she mourns, nor e'er will cease to mourn;
And, should the out-pourings of her eyes suffice not
For her heart's grief, she will entreat Sebeto 10
Not to withhold his bounteous aid, Sebeto
Who saw thee, on his margin, yield to death,
In the chaste arms of thy belovèd Love!
What profit riches? what does youth avail?
Dust are our hopes;—I, weeping bitterly, 15
Penned these sad lines, nor can forbear to pray
That every gentle Spirit hither led
May read them not without some bitter tears.
VIII
"NOT WITHOUT HEAVY GRIEF OF HEART
DID HE"
Published 1810[A]
Not without heavy grief of heart did He
On whom the duty fell (for at that time
The father sojourned in a distant land)
Deposit in the hollow of this tomb
A brother's Child, most tenderly beloved! 5
Francesco was the name the Youth had borne,
Pozzobonnelli his illustrious house;
And, when beneath this stone the Corse was laid,
The eyes of all Savona streamed with tears.
Alas! the twentieth April of his life 10
Had scarcely flowered: and at this early time,
By genuine virtue he inspired a hope
That greatly cheered his country: to his kin
He promised comfort; and the flattering thoughts
His friends had in their fondness entertained,[B] 15
He suffered not to languish or decay.
Now is there not good reason to break forth
Into a passionate lament?—O Soul!
Short while a Pilgrim in our nether world,
Do thou enjoy the calm empyreal air; 20
And round this earthly tomb let roses rise,
An everlasting spring! in memory
Of that delightful fragrance which was once
From thy mild manners quietly exhaled.
FOOTNOTES: