The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volume IV (of 8), by William Wordsworth

In a letter written from Bootle to Sir George Beaumont on the 28th August 1811, Wordsworth says:—

"This is like most others, a bleak and treeless coast, but abounding in corn fields, and with a noble beach, which is delightful either for walking or riding. The Isle of Man is right opposite our window; and though in this unsettled weather often invisible, its appearance has afforded us great amusement. One afternoon above the whole length of it was stretched a body of clouds, shaped and coloured like a magnificent grove in winter, when whitened with snow and illuminated, by the morning sun, which, having melted the snow in part, has intermingled black masses among the brightness. The whole sky was scattered over with fleecy dark clouds, such as any sunshiny day produces, and which were changing their shapes and positions every moment. But this line of clouds was immovably attached to the island, and manifestly took their shape from the influence of its mountains. There appeared to be just span enough of sky to allow the hand to slide between the top of Snâfell, the highest peak in the island, and the base of this glorious forest, in which little change was noticeable for more than the space of half an hour."

In the Fenwick note, Wordsworth tells us that this Epistle was written in 1804; and by referring to the note prefixed to the first poem in the "Memorials of a Tour in Scotland," 1803, (see vol. ii. p. 377), it will be seen that the lines entitled Departure from the Vale of Grasmere, August, 1803, beginning—

The gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains,

It does not follow from this, however, that the lines belong to the year 1803 or 1804; because they were not published along with the earlier "Memorials" of the Scotch Tour, but appeared for the first time in the edition of 1827. It is certain that Wordsworth travelled down with his household from the Grasmere Parsonage to Bootle in August 1811—mainly to get some sea-air for his invalid children—and that he lived there for some time during the autumn of that year. He may have also gone down to the south-west coast of Cumberland in 1804, and then written a part of the poem; but we have no direct evidence of this; and I rather think that the mention of the year 1804 to Miss Fenwick is just another instance in which Wordsworth's memory failed him while dictating these memoranda. If the poem was not written at different times, but was composed as a whole in 1811, we may partly account for the date he gave to Miss Fenwick, when we remember that in the year 1827 he transferred a part of it (viz. the introduction) to these "Memorials" of the Scotch Tour of 1803.

Up many a sharply-twining road and down,
And over many a wide hill's craggy crown,
Through the quick turns of many a hollow nook,
And the rough bed of many an unbridged brook.

Their route would be from Grasmere by Red Bank, over by High Close to Elter Water, by Colwith into Yewdale, on to Waterhead; then probably, from Coniston over Walna Scar, into Duddondale, and thence to Bootle.

Like a gaunt shaggy Porter forced to wait
In days of old romance at Archimago's gate.

... the liveliest bird
That in wild Arden's brakes was ever heard.

And soon approach Diana's Looking-glass!
To Loughrigg-tarn, etc.

A glimpse I caught of that Abode, by Thee
Designed to rise in humble privacy.

He imagines the house which Sir George Beaumont intended to build at Loughrigg Tarn, but which he never erected, to be really built by his friend, very much as in the sonnet named Anticipation, October, 1803, he supposes England to have been invaded, and the battle fought in which "the Invaders were laid low."

... behold a Peasant stand
On high, a kerchief waving in her hand!

... a barren ridge we scale;
Descend and reach, in Yewdale's depths, a plain.

They went up Little Langdale, I think, past the Tarn to Fell Foot, and crossed over the ridge of Tilberthwaite, into Yewdale by the copper mines.

Under a rock too steep for man to tread,
Where sheltered from the north and bleak north-west
Aloft the Raven hangs a visible nest,
Fearless of all assaults that would her brood molest.

There is a Raven crag in Yewdale, evidently the one referred to in this passage, and also in the passage in the first book of The Prelude (see vol. iii. p. 142), beginning—

Oh! when I have hung
Above the raven's nest, by knots of grass
And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock
But ill sustained, etc.

... toward the lowly Grange
Press forward,

So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive,

and also the Biographical Sketch of Professor Archer Butler, prefixed to his Sermons, vol. i.—Ed.

[A] Loughrigg Tarn, alluded to in the foregoing Epistle, resembles, though much smaller in compass, the Lake Nemi, or Speculum Dianæ as it is often called, not only in its clear waters and circular form, and the beauty immediately surrounding it, but also as being overlooked by the eminence of Langdale Pikes as Lake Nemi is by that of Monte Calvo. Since this Epistle was written Loughrigg Tarn has lost much of its beauty by the felling of many natural clumps of wood, relics of the old forest, particularly upon the farm called "The Oaks" from the abundance of that tree which grew there.

It is to be regretted, upon public grounds, that Sir George Beaumont did not carry into effect his intention of constructing here a Summer Retreat in the style I have described; as his Taste would have set an example how buildings, with all the accommodations modern society requires, might be introduced even into the most secluded parts of this country without injuring their native character. The design was not abandoned from failure of inclination on his part, but in consequence of local untowardnesses which need not be particularised.—W. W. 1842.

UPON THE SIGHT OF A BEAUTIFUL PICTURE,

Praised be the Art whose subtle power could stay
Yon cloud, and fix it in that glorious shape;
Nor would permit the thin smoke to escape,[A]
Nor those bright sunbeams to forsake the day;
Which stopped that band of travellers on their way, 5
Ere they were lost within the shady wood;
And showed the Bark upon the glassy flood
For ever anchored in her sheltering bay.
Soul-soothing Art! whom [1] Morning, Noon-tide, Even,
Do serve with all their changeful pageantry; 10
Thou, with ambition modest yet sublime,
Here, for the sight of mortal man, hast given
To one brief moment caught from fleeting time
The appropriate calm of blest eternity,[B]

Compare the Elegiac Stanzas, suggested by a picture of Peele Castle, in a Storm, painted by Sir George Beaumont—especially the first three, and the fifth, sixth, and seventh stanzas. (See vol. iii. p. 54.)

In the letter written to Sir George Beaumont from Bootle, in 1811—partly quoted in the note to the previous poem (p. 268)—Wordsworth says, "A few days after I had enjoyed the pleasure of seeing, in different moods of mind, your Coleorton landscape from my fireside, it suggested to me the following sonnet, which—having walked out to the side of Grasmere brook, where it murmurs through the meadows near the Church—I composed immediately—

Praised be the Art ...

"The images of the smoke and the travellers are taken from your picture; the rest were added, in order to place the thought in a clear point of view, and for the sake of variety."—Ed.

TO THE POET, JOHN DYER

Bard of the Fleece, whose skilful genius made
That work a living landscape fair and bright;
Nor hallowed less with musical delight
Than those soft scenes through which thy childhood strayed,
Those southern tracts of Cambria, deep embayed, 5
With green hills fenced, with [1] ocean's murmur lull'd;[A]
Though hasty Fame hath many a chaplet culled
For worthless brows, while in the pensive shade
Of cold neglect she leaves thy head ungraced,
Yet pure and powerful minds, hearts meek and still, 10
A grateful few, shall love thy modest Lay,
Long as the shepherd's bleating flock shall stray
O'er naked Snowdon's wide aërial waste;
Long as the thrush shall pipe on Grongar Hill!

John Dyer, author of Grongar Hill (1726), and The Fleece (1757), was born at Aberglasney, in Caermarthenshire, in 1698, and died in 1758. Both Akenside and Gray, before Wordsworth's time, had signalised his merit, in opposition to the dicta of Johnson and Horace Walpole. The passage which Wordsworth quotes is from The Fleece, in which Dyer is referring to his own ancestors, who were weavers, and "fugitives from superstition's rage," and who brought the art of weaving "from Devon" to

that soft tract
Of Cambria, deep-embayed, Dimetian land,
By green hills fenced, by ocean's murmur lulled.

It will be observed that Wordsworth quotes this last line of Dyer accurately in the edition of 1815, but changed it in 1827.

This sonnet was possibly written before 1811, as in a letter to Lady Beaumont, dated November 20, 1811, he speaks of it as written "some time ago." In that letter Wordsworth writes thus of Dyer:—"His poem is in several places dry and heavy, but its beauties are innumerable, and of a high order. In point of imagination and purity of style, I am not sure that he is not superior to any writer of verse since the time of Milton." He then transcribes his sonnet, and adds—"In the above is one whole line from The Fleece, and also other expressions. When you read The Fleece, you will recognise them."—Ed.

1812

SONG FOR THE SPINNING WHEEL

Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel!
Night has brought the welcome hour,
When the weary fingers feel
Help, as if from faery power;
Dewy night o'ershades the ground; 5
Turn the swift wheel round and round!

Now, beneath the starry sky,
Couch [1] the widely-scattered sheep;—
Ply the pleasant labour, ply!
For the spindle, while they sleep, 10
Runs with speed more smooth and fine,
Gathering [2] up a trustier line.

Short-lived likings may be bred
By a glance from fickle eyes;
But true love is like the thread 15
Which the kindly wool supplies,
When the flocks are all at rest
Sleeping on the mountain's breast.

It was for Sarah Hutchinson that this Song was written. She lived, for the most part, either at Brinsop Court Herefordshire, or at Rydal Mount Westmoreland, or at Greta Hall Keswick. When living at Greta Hall, she acted as Southey's amanuensis. She also frequently transcribed poems for Wordsworth, at Grasmere, Coleorton, and Rydal Mount.

Compare the sonnet addressed To S. H. in the "Miscellaneous Sonnets," I. xx.—Ed.

COMPOSED ON THE EVE OF THE MARRIAGE OF A FRIEND IN THE VALE OF GRASMERE, 1812

What need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay,
These humble nuptials to proclaim or grace?
Angels of love, look down upon the place;
Shed on the chosen vale a sun-bright day!
Yet no proud gladness would the Bride display 5
Even for such promise:[1]—serious is her face,
Modest her mien; and she, whose thoughts keep pace
With gentleness, in that becoming way
Will thank you. Faultless does the Maid appear;
No disproportion in her soul, no strife: 10
But, when the closer view of wedded life
Hath shown that nothing human can be clear
From frailty, for that insight may the Wife
To her indulgent Lord become more dear.

This refers to the marriage of Thomas Hutchinson (Mrs. Wordsworth's brother) to Mary Monkhouse, sister of the Mr. Monkhouse with whom Wordsworth afterwards travelled on the Continent. The marriage took place on November 1, 1812. They lived at Nadnorth for eighteen years, and afterwards at Brinsop Court, Herefordshire, for twenty-one years. To their son—the Rev. Thomas Hutchinson of Kimbolton, Leominster, Herefordshire—and to their daughter—Miss Elizabeth Hutchinson of Rock Villa, West Malvern—I am indebted for much information in reference to their uncle and aunts. The portrait of Wordsworth in his forty-seventh year, by Richard Carruthers, is in Mr. Hutchinson's possession at the Rectory, Kimbolton.—Ed.

WATER-FOWL [A]

"Let me be allowed the aid of verse to describe the evolutions which these visitants sometimes perform, on a fine day towards the close of winter."—Extract from the Author's Book on the Lakes.—W. W. 1827.

Mark how the feathered tenants of the flood,
With grace of motion that might scarcely seem [B]
Inferior to angelical, prolong
Their curious pastime! shaping in mid air
(And sometimes with ambitious wing that soars 5
High as the level of the mountain-tops)
A circuit ampler than the lake beneath—
Their own domain; but ever, while intent
On tracing and retracing that large round,
Their jubilant activity evolves 10
Hundreds of curves and circlets, to and fro,
Upward and downward, progress intricate
Yet unperplexed, as if one spirit swayed
Their indefatigable flight. 'Tis done—
Ten times, or more, I fancied it had ceased; 15
But lo! the vanished company again
Ascending; they approach—I hear their wings,
Faint, faint at first; and then an eager sound,
Past in a moment—and as faint again!
They tempt the sun to sport amid their plumes; 20
They tempt the water, or the gleaming ice,
To show them a fair image; 'tis themselves,
Their own fair forms, upon the glimmering plain,
Painted more soft and fair as they descend
Almost to touch;—then up again aloft, 25
Up with a sally and a flash of speed,
As if they scorned both resting-place and rest!

1813

VIEW FROM THE TOP OF BLACK COMB

Included among the "Poems of the Imagination." (See the editorial note to the following poem.)—Ed.

This Height a ministering Angel might select:
For from the summit of Black Comb (dread name
Derived from clouds and storms!) the amplest range
Of unobstructed prospect may be seen
That British ground commands:—low dusky tracts, 5
Where Trent is nursed, far southward! Cambrian hills
To the south-west, a multitudinous show;
And, in a line of eye-sight linked with these,
The hoary peaks of Scotland that give birth
To Tiviot's stream, to Annan, Tweed, and Clyde:— 10
Crowding the quarter whence the sun comes forth
Gigantic mountains rough with crags; beneath,
Right at the imperial station's western base
Main ocean, breaking audibly, and stretched
Far into silent regions blue and pale;— 15
And visibly engirding Mona's Isle
That, as we left the plain, before our sight
Stood like a lofty mount, uplifting slowly
(Above the convex of the watery globe)
Into clear view the cultured fields that streak 20
Her [1] habitable shores, but now appears
A dwindled object, and submits to lie
At the spectator's feet.—Yon azure ridge,
Is it a perishable cloud? Or there
Do we behold the line [2] of Erin's coast?[A] 25
Land sometimes by the roving shepherd-swain
(Like the bright confines of another world)
Not doubtfully perceived.—Look homeward now!
In depth, in height, in circuit, how serene
The spectacle, how pure!—Of Nature's works, 30
In earth, and air, and earth-embracing sea,
A revelation infinite it seems;
Display august of man's inheritance,
Of Britain's calm felicity and power![B]

WRITTEN WITH A SLATE PENCIL ON A STONE, ON THE SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN OF BLACK COMB

Stay, bold Adventurer; rest awhile thy limbs
On this commodious Seat! for much remains
Of hard ascent before thou reach the top
Of this huge Eminence,—from blackness named,
And, to far-travelled storms of sea and land, 5
A favourite spot of tournament and war!
But thee may no such boisterous visitants
Molest; may gentle breezes fan thy brow;
And neither cloud conceal, nor misty air
Bedim, the grand terraqueous spectacle, 10
From centre to circumference, unveiled!
Know, if thou grudge not to prolong thy rest,
That on the summit whither thou art bound,
A geographic Labourer pitched his tent,
With books supplied and instruments of art, 15
To measure height and distance; lonely task,
Week after week pursued!—To him was given
Full many a glimpse (but sparingly bestowed
On timid man) of Nature's processes
Upon the exalted hills. He made report 20
That once, while there he plied his studious work
Within that canvass Dwelling, colours, lines,
And the whole surface of the out-spread map,[1]
Became invisible: for all around
Had darkness fallen—unthreatened, unproclaimed— 25
As if the golden day itself had been
Extinguished in a moment; total gloom,
In which he sate alone, with unclosed eyes,
Upon the blinded mountain's silent top!

In the editions of 1815 and 1820, the note to the previous poem, View from the top of Black Comb, was appended to this one. In 1827 it was transferred to its appropriate and permanent place.—Ed.

NOVEMBER, 1813

Now that all hearts are glad, all faces bright,
Our aged Sovereign sits, to the ebb and flow
Of states and kingdoms, to their joy or woe,
Insensible. He sits deprived of sight,
And lamentably wrapped in twofold night, 5
Whom no weak hopes deceived; whose mind ensued,
Through perilous war, with regal fortitude,
Peace that should claim respect from lawless Might.
Dread King of Kings, vouchsafe a ray divine
To his forlorn condition! let thy grace 10
Upon his inner [1] soul in mercy shine;
Permit his heart to kindle, and to embrace [2]
(Though it were [3] only for a moment's space)
The triumphs of this hour; for they are Thine!

The reference is to the rejoicings on the Leipzig victory of the Allied Forces, October 16 to 19, 1813. Napoleon crossed the Rhine on the 2nd November, and returned to Paris with the wreck of his army. George III. was English Sovereign; but, owing to his illness, the Prince of Wales had been appointed Regent, and assumed executive power in January 1811. The King died at Windsor in 1820, being eighty-two years of age. He had been entirely blind for some years before his death. The "twofold night" referred to in the sonnet is sufficiently obvious.—Ed.

In the original text the printer used multiple periods to push single and multiple word "Variants" into the place in the notes where they occured in the poem. In this e-text a single ellipsis (...) is used to represent positioning of preceeding and succeeding words. The variant anchor point indicates the relative position of the word variant in the poem.

In footnote [A] to the poem "In the Grounds of Coleorton", p. 79 "l. 7." has been changed to p. 79 "l. 13." While the note correctly identifies the 7th line of the text of the poem printed on p. 79, it is actually l. 13. of the poem.

2. All poetry line markers have been retained as placed and numbered by the printer in 5, 4 or 6 line intervals.

7. Several word variations appearing in the text have been retained including but not limited to:

"achieves" and "atchieved"
"antient", "ancyent", and "ancient"
"belovèd" and "beloved"
"birthplace" (Ed.) and "birth-place" (poems)
"blessèd" and "blessed"
"Buonaparté" and "Buonaparte"
"cheer(ed)(ful)" and "chear(ed)(ful)"
"eye-sight" and "eyesight"
"farm-house" and "farmhouse"
"Mauleverers" and "Mauliverers"
"negociation" and "negotiation"
"out-spread" and "outspread"
"re-appearing" and "reappearing"
"recognised" and "recognized"
"Shakspeare"('s) (3) and "Shakespeare"('s) (3)
"Stockton-on-Tees" and "Stockton-upon-Tees"
"strong-hold" (in poetry) and "stronghold" (in letter)
"wingèd" and "winged"
"wreathèd" and "wreathed"

8. The translations of the Tyrolese Sonnets in German were originally printed in the Fraktur Font, and with other Blackletter Gothic fonts are represented in "Antiqua" in this e-text.