[36] 1815.

Of which so long I cherished,
ms. 1814.
A Fancy dear to waking thought.

[37] 1815.

ms. 1814.
.    .    . words .    .    .

[38] 1815.

ms. 1814.
With her own depths .    .    .

[38a] 1827.

It promises protection
To studious ease, and generous cares,
1815.
And every chaste affection.
To all the nestling brood of thoughts
1820.
Sustained by chaste affection!

[39] 1827.

1815.
The wild wood's .    .    .

FOOTNOTES:

[Q] Newark Castle, a "large, square, roofless, ancient castle, scene of Sir Walter Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel, four miles west by north of Selkirk." (Wilson's Gazetteer of Scotland.)—Ed.

[R] i.e. Yarrow Unvisited.—Ed.

LINES

Written[40] on a blank leaf in a copy of the author's poem "The Excursion," upon hearing of the death of the late Vicar of Kendal.

Composed 1814.—Published 1815

One of the "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces."—Ed.

To public notice, with reluctance strong,
Did I deliver this unfinished Song;
Yet for one happy issue;—and I look
With self-congratulation on the Book
5
Which pious, learned, Murfitt saw and read;—
Upon my thoughts his saintly Spirit fed;
He conned the new-born Lay with grateful heart—
Foreboding not how soon he must depart;
Unweeting that to him the joy was given
10
Which good men take with them from earth to heaven.

The Annals of Kendal—an octavo volume containing information on all subjects of historical or antiquarian interest connected with the town—contains no reference to Mr. Murfitt, except a copy of the inscription on his monument. He was instituted vicar of Kendal in 1806, and died on the 7th November 1814. The following is a copy of the inscription.

To the Memory of
The Reverend Matthew Murfitt, A.M.
Vicar of Kendal
And formerly Fellow of Trinity College
Cambridge,
Who died Nov. 7, 1814, aged 50 years.
He was a pious, learned, and eloquent Divine,
A sincere Friend, a kind husband
And in every relation of Life
A most worthy man.

The monument is erected against the north wall of the Parish Church of Kendal.

The phrase in the second line of the sonnet, "this unfinished Song," refers to The Excursion being only part of a longer unfinished poem, The Recluse. (See the preface to the edition of 1814.)—Ed.

VARIANT:

[40] 1845.

1815.

Written, November 13, 1814,   .    .    .

1815

In 1815 few poems were written, with the exception of the Dedication to The White Doe of Rylstone, one or two sonnets, and Artegal and Elidure. If we were to trust entirely to the Fenwick note to Laodamia, Artegal and Elidure would require to be transferred, along with it and Dion, to 1814. When Wordsworth, in 1845, separated the Ode, beginning

Imagination—ne'er before content

from the Ode, the morning of the Day appointed for a General Thanksgiving, January 18, 1816, he gave to the former the date 1815; and it is possible that it was composed towards the close of that year. But it was originally published in 1816 as part of the Thanksgiving Ode; and, although (in conformity with the plan of adopting the Author's latest view of his own text) it is printed by itself,—as finally approved by him,—it is not placed in the year 1815, but in 1816. The chief reason for this is, that it is kindred in theme, structure, and tendency with the other Odes belonging to that year; and it seems better—when there is a doubt as to the date—to bring together those poems that are kindred in character. It does not follow, however, that part of the Thanksgiving Ode itself may not have been written in 1815. Wordsworth, writing to Southey in 1816, said:—"It is a poem composed, or supposed to be composed, on the morning of the thanksgiving." Those belonging to the year 1815 are, therefore, few in number.—Ed.

DEDICATION TO THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE

In trellised shed, with clustering roses gay, etc.

Although this Dedication was only written in April 1815, it has, for obvious reasons, been already published—along with the poem itself—in its chronological place (1807) (see vol. iv. p. 100); but as I have seen a MS. copy of this Dedication, which differs considerably from the final text, and was probably the first draft of the poem, it may be printed here. In the MS. I refer to, it is called Epistle Dedicatory.—Ed.

EPISTLE DEDICATORY

When years of wedded life were as a day
Whose current answers to the heart's desire,
Oft in some bowers, with clustering roses gay,
Or haply by the blazing winter fire,
5
Did we together read in Spenser's Lay
How Una, sad of soul, in sad attire,
The gentle Una, born of heavenly birth,
To seek her knight went wandering o'er the earth.
Ah, then, Belovèd, pleasing was the smart,
10
And the tear precious in compassion shed
For Her, who, pierced by sorrow's thrilling dart,
Did meekly bear the pang unmerited;
Meek as that Emblem of her lowly heart
The milk-white Lamb, which in a line she led,
15
And faithful, loyal in her innocence,
Like the brave Lion slain in her defence.
Notes could we hear as of a faery shell
Attuned to words with sacred wisdom fraught;
Free fancy prized each specious miracle,
20
And all its finer inspiration caught
Mid the green bower, and in our rustic Cell;
Till we by lamentable change were taught
That bliss with mortal man may not abide,
How nearly joy and sorrow are allied![S]
25
For us the stream of fiction ceased to flow,
For us the voice of melody was mute:
But as soft gales dissolve the dreary snow,
And give the timid herbage leave to shoot,
Heaven's breathing spirit failed not to bestow
30
Its timely influence—promising fair fruit
Of pensive pleasure and serene content,
From blossoms wild of fancies innocent.
It soothed us—it beguiled us—then, to hear
Once more of troubles wrought by magic spell,
35
And griefs whose aery motion comes not near
The pangs that tempt the spirit to rebel;
Then, with mild Una in her sober cheer,
High over hill and low adown the dell
Again we wandered, willing to partake
40
All that she suffered for her dear Lord's sake.
      *      *      *      *      *      *     *
Then, too, this Song of mine once more could please,
Where anguish, strange as dreams of restless sleep,
Is tempered and allayed by sympathies
Aloft ascending, and descending deep,
45
Even to the inferior Kinds; whom forest-trees
Protect from beating sunbeams, and the sweep
Of the sharp winds;—fair Creatures!—to whom Heaven
A calm and sinless life, with love, hath given.
      *      *      *      *      *      *     *
This tragic story cheered us, for it speaks
50
Of female patience winning firm repose,
And of the high reward which conscience seeks
A bright encouraging example shows;
Needful when o'er wide realms the tempest breaks,
Needful amid life's ordinary woes;—
55
A tale which now, dear helpmate, I present
To thee and to the world with pure intent.[T]
He serves the Muses erringly and ill,
Whose aim is pleasure light and fugitive:
O, that my mind were equal to fulfil
60
The comprehensive mandate which they give—
Vain aspiration of an earnest will!
Yet in this moral Strain a power may live,
Belovèd Wife! such solace to impart,
As it hath yielded to thy tender heart.

FOOTNOTES:

[S] Another version of this stanza follows:—

But like a wreath, composed of bud and bell,
Spring's flowery garland, in a whirlwind caught,
Or like the warblings of a sea-nymph's shell
When the distempered air with storms is fraught;
Those pleasures vanished from our rustic cell,
And we by lamentable change were taught
That bliss with mortal man may not abide,
How nearly joy and sorrow are allied!Ed.

[T] Two variations of the last couplet follow in the MS.:—

And therefore not unfitted to impress
On happier hours a holier happiness.
Hence, not for those unfitted who would bless
A happy hour with holier happiness.Ed.

ARTEGAL AND ELIDURE

(SEE THE CHRONICLE OF GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH AND MILTON'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND)

Composed 1815.—Published 1820

[This was written at Rydal Mount, as a token of affectionate respect for the memory of Milton. "I have determined," says he, in his preface to his History of England, "to bestow the telling over even of these reputed tales, be it for nothing else but in favour of our English Poets and Rhetoricians, who by their wit will know how to use them judiciously."—I.F.]

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."

The extract given in the Fenwick note is not from the "preface," but from the first book of Milton's History of England.—Ed.

Where be the temples which,[41] in Britain's Isle,
For his paternal Gods, the Trojan raised?[U]
Gone like a morning dream, or like a pile
Of clouds that in cerulean ether blazed!
5
Ere Julius landed on her white-cliffed shore,[V]
They sank, delivered o'er
To fatal dissolution; and, I ween,
No vestige then was left that such had ever been.
Nathless, a British record (long concealed
10
In old Armorica, whose secret springs
No Gothic conqueror ever drank) revealed
The marvellous[42] current of forgotten things;[W]
How Brutus came, by oracles impelled,
And Albion's giants quelled,[X]
15
A brood whom no civility could melt,
"Who never tasted grace, and goodness ne'er had felt."
By brave Corineus aided, he subdued,[Y]
And rooted out the intolerable kind;
And this too-long-polluted land[43] imbued
20
With goodly[44] arts and usages refined;
Whence golden harvests, cities, warlike towers,
And pleasure's sumptuous[45] bowers;
Whence all the fixed[46] delights of house and home,
Friendships[47] that will not break, and love that cannot roam.[Z]
25
O, happy Britain! region all too fair
For self-delighting fancy[48] to endure
That silence only should inhabit there,
Wild beasts, or uncouth savages impure!
But, intermingled with the generous seed,
30
Grew[49] many a poisonous weed;
Thus fares it still with all that takes its birth
From human care, or grows upon the breast of earth.
Hence, and how soon! that war of vengeance waged
By Guendolen against her faithless lord;[AA]
35
Till she, in jealous fury unassuaged
Had slain his paramour with ruthless sword:
Then, into Severn hideously defiled,
She flung her[50] blameless child,
39
Sabrina,—vowing that the stream should bear
That name through every age, her hatred to declare.[AB]
So speaks the Chronicle, and tells of Lear
By his ungrateful daughters turned adrift.
Ye lightnings, hear his voice!—they cannot hear,
Nor can the winds restore his simple gift.
45
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 perfect rest.[AC]
There too we read of Spenser's fairy themes,
50
And those that Milton loved in youthful years;
The sage enchanter Merlin's subtle schemes;
The feats of Arthur and his knightly peers;[AD]
Of Arthur,—who, to upper light restored,
With that terrific sword[AE]
55
Which yet he brandishes for future war,[51]
Shall lift his country's fame above the polar star!
What wonder, then, if in such[52] ample field
Of old tradition, one particular flower
Doth seemingly in vain its fragrance yield,
60
And bloom unnoticed even to this late hour?
Now, gentle Muses, your assistance grant,
While I this flower transplant
Into a garden stored with Poesy;[53]
Where flowers and herbs unite, and haply some weeds be,[54]
That, wanting not wild grace, are from all mischief free![55]
66
A King more worthy of respect and love
Than wise Gorbonian ruled not in his day;[AF]
And grateful Britain prospered far above
All neighbouring countries through his righteous sway;
70
He poured rewards and honours on the good;
The oppressor he withstood;
And while he served the Gods with reverence due,
Fields smiled, and temples rose, and towns and cities grew.
He died, whom Artegal succeeds—his son;
75
But how unworthy of that sire[56] was he!
A hopeful reign, auspiciously begun,
Was darkened soon by foul iniquity.
From crime to crime he mounted, till at length
The nobles leagued their strength
80
With a vexed people, and the tyrant chased;
And, on the vacant throne, his worthier Brother placed.
From realm to realm the humbled Exile went,
Suppliant for aid his kingdom to regain;
In many a court, and many a warrior's tent,
85
He urged his persevering suit in vain.
Him, in whose wretched heart ambition failed,
Dire poverty assailed;
And, tired with slights his pride no more could brook,
He towards his native country cast a longing look.[57]
90
Fair blew the wished-for wind—the voyage sped;
He landed; and, by many dangers scared,
"Poorly provided, poorly followèd,"
To Calaterium's forest he repaired.
How changed from him who, born to highest place,
95
Had swayed the royal mace,
Flattered and feared, despised yet deified,
In Troynovant, his seat by silver Thames's side![AG]
From that wild region where the crownless King
Lay in concealment with his scanty train,
100
Supporting life by water from the spring,
And such chance food as outlaws can obtain,
Unto the few whom he esteems his friends
A messenger he sends;
And from their secret loyalty requires
105
Shelter and daily bread,—the sum[58] of his desires.
While he the issue waits, at early morn
Wandering by stealth abroad, he chanced to hear
A startling outcry made by hound and horn,
From which the tusky wild boar flies in fear;[59]
110
And, scouring toward[60] him o'er the grassy plain,
Behold the hunter train!
He bids his little company advance
With seeming unconcern and steady countenance.
The royal Elidure, who leads the chase,
115
Hath checked his foaming courser:—can it be!
Methinks that I should recognise that face,
Though much disguised by long adversity!
He gazed rejoicing, and again he gazed,
Confounded and amazed—
120
"It is the king, my brother!" and, by sound
Of his own voice confirmed, he leaps upon the ground.
Long, strict, and tender was the embrace he gave,
Feebly returned by daunted Artegal;
Whose natural affection doubts enslave,
125
And apprehensions dark and criminal.
Loth to restrain the moving interview,
The attendant lords withdrew;
And, while they stood upon the plain apart,
Thus Elidure, by words, relieved his struggling heart.
125
"By heavenly Powers conducted, we have met;
—O Brother! to my knowledge lost so long,
But neither lost to love, nor to regret,
Nor to my wishes lost;—forgive the wrong,
(Such it may seem) if I thy crown have borne,
135
Thy royal mantle worn:
I was their natural guardian; and 'tis just
That now I should restore what hath been held in trust."
A while the astonished Artegal stood mute,
Then thus exclaimed: "To me, of titles shorn,
140
And stripped of power! me, feeble, destitute,
To me a kingdom! spare the bitter scorn:
If justice ruled the breast[61] of foreign kings,
Then, on the wide-spread wings
Of war, had I returned to claim my right;
145
This will I here avow, not dreading thy despite."
"I do not blame thee," Elidure replied;
"But, if my looks did with my words agree,
I should at once be trusted, not defied,
And thou from all disquietude be free.
150
May the unsullied Goddess of the chase,[62][AH]
Who to this blessed place
At this blest moment led me, if I speak
With insincere intent, on me her vengeance wreak!
"Were this same spear, which in my hand I grasp,
155
The British sceptre, here would I to thee
The symbol yield; and would undo this clasp,
If it confined the robe of sovereignty.
Odious to me the pomp of regal court,
And joyless sylvan sport,
160
While thou art roving, wretched and forlorn,
Thy couch the dewy earth, thy roof the forest thorn!"
Then Artegal thus spake: "I only sought,
Within this realm a place of safe retreat;
Beware of rousing an ambitious thought;
165
Beware of kindling hopes, for me unmeet!
Thou art reputed wise, but in my mind
Art pitiably blind:
Full soon this generous purpose thou may'st rue,
When that which has been done[63] no wishes can undo.
170
"Who, when a crown is fixed upon his head,
Would balance claim with claim, and right with right?
But thou—I know not how inspired, how led—
Wouldst change the course of things in all men's sight!
And this for one who cannot imitate
175
Thy virtue, who may hate:
For, if, by such strange sacrifice restored,
He reign, thou still must be his king, and sovereign lord;
"Lifted in magnanimity above
Aught that my feeble nature could perform,
180
Or even conceive; surpassing me in love
Far as in power the eagle doth the worm:
I, Brother! only should be king in name,
And govern to my shame;
A shadow in a hated land, while all
185
Of glad or willing service to thy share would fall."
"Believe it not," said Elidure; "respect
Awaits on virtuous life, and ever most
Attends on goodness with dominion decked,
Which stands the universal empire's boast;
190
This can thy own experience testify:
Nor shall thy foes deny
That, in the gracious opening of thy reign,
Our father's spirit seemed in thee to breathe again.
"And what if o'er that bright unbosoming
195
Clouds of disgrace and envious fortune past!
Have we not seen the glories of the spring
By veil of noontide darkness overcast?
The frith[64] that glittered like a warrior's shield,
The sky, the gay green field,
200
Are vanished; gladness ceases in the groves,
And trepidation strikes the blackened mountain-coves.
"But is that gloom dissolved? how passing clear
Seems the wide world, far brighter than before!
Even so thy latent worth will re-appear,
205
Gladdening the people's heart[65] from shore to shore;
For youthful faults ripe virtues shall atone;
Re-seated on thy throne,
Proof shalt thou furnish that misfortune, pain,
And sorrow, have confirmed thy native[66] right to reign.
210
"But, not to overlook what thou may'st know,
Thy enemies are neither weak nor few;
And circumspect must be our course, and slow,
Or from my purpose ruin may ensue.
Dismiss thy followers;—let them calmly wait
215
Such change in thy estate
As I already have in thought devised;
And which, with caution due, may soon be realised."
The Story tells what courses were pursued,
Until king Elidure, with full consent
220
Of all his peers, before the multitude,
Rose,—and, to consummate this just intent,
Did place upon his brother's head the crown,
Relinquished by his own;
Then to his[67] people cried, "Receive your lord,
Gorbonian's first-born son, your rightful king restored!"
226
The people answered with a loud acclaim:
Yet more;—heart-smitten by the heroic deed,
The reinstated Artegal became
Earth's noblest penitent;[68] from bondage freed
230
Of vice—thenceforth unable[69] to subvert
Or shake his high desert.
Long did he reign; and, when he died, the tear
Of universal grief bedewed his honoured bier.
Thus was a Brother by a Brother saved;[AI]
235
With whom a crown (temptation that hath set
Discord in hearts of men till they have braved
Their nearest kin with deadly purpose met)
'Gainst duty weighed, and faithful love, did seem
A thing of no esteem;
240
And, from this triumph of affection pure,
He bore the lasting name of "pious Elidure!"[AJ]

VARIANTS:

[41] 1820

ms.
.    .    . that, .    .    .

[42] 1836.

1820 and ms.
The wonderous .    .    .

[43] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . soil .    .    .

[44] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . gentle .    .    .

[45] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . fragrant .    .    .

[46] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . mild .    .    .

[47] 1820.

ms.
Friendship .    .    .

[48] 1820.

ms.
For fondly favouring Nature .    .    .

[49] 1820.

ms.
Lurked .    .    .

[50] 1820.

ms.
She flung their .    .    .
ms.
Cast this, her .    .    .

[51] 1836.

1820.
Which yet he wields in subterranean war,
ms.
Which yet he wields in subterraneous war,
Which yet he graspeth, meditating war,
ms.
To lift

[52] 1820.

ms.
.    .    . this .    .    .

[53] 1820.

ms.
Into a Garden of pure Poesy;
ms.
.    .    . stocked with Poesy;