[396] The MS. has a second reading, “covetous hand.”—Ed.

[397] In MS. also “its herbs.”—Ed.

[398]

… to a close
From a MS. copied at Rydal by Professor Reed in 1854.

[399]

… pecked at …
From a MS. copied at Rydal by Professor Reed in 1854.

[400]

… clear Spring …
From a MS. copied at Rydal by Professor Reed in 1854.

“I, WHOSE PRETTY VOICE YOU HEAR”

These lines were written for Miss Fanny Barlow of Middlethorpe Hall, York. She was first married to the Rev. E. Trafford Leigh, and afterwards to Dr. Eason Wilkinson of Manchester.—Ed.

I, whose pretty Voice you hear,
Lady (you will think it queer),
Have a Mother, once a Statue,
I, thus boldly looking at you,
Do the name of Paphus bear, 5
Fam’d Pygmalion’s Son and Heir,
By that wondrous marble wife
That from Venus took her life.
Cupid’s Nephew then am I,
Nor unskill’d his darts to ply; 10
But from Him I crav’d no warrant,
Coming thus to seek my Parent;
Not equipp’d with bow and quiver
Her by menace to deliver,
But resolv’d with filial care 15
Her captivity to share.
Hence, while on your toilet, She
Is doom’d a Pincushion to be,
By her side I’ll take my place,
As a humble Needle-case; 20
Furnish’d too with dainty thread,
For a Sempstress thorough-bred.
Then let both be kindly treated,
Till the Term, for which She’s fated
Durance to sustain, be over; 25
So will I ensure a Lover
Lady! to your heart’s content;
But on harshness are you bent
Bitterly shall you repent,
When to Cyprus back I go 30
And take up my Uncle’s bow.

Composed, and in part transcribed, for Fanny Barlow, by her affectionate Friend

Wm. Wordsworth.

Rydal Mount, Shortest Day, 1826.


1827

TO MY NIECE DORA

By Dorothy Wordsworth

The following lines were written in Dora Wordsworth’s “Album,” in which Sir Walter Scott also wrote some verses.—Ed.

Confiding hopes of youthful hearts,
And each bright visionary scheme,
Shall here remain in vivid hues
The hues of a celestial dream.
The farewell of the laurelled Knight 5
Traced by a brave but tremulous hand,
Pledge of his truth and loyalty
Thro’ changeful years, unchanged shall stand.
But why should I inscribe my name,
No Poet I—no longer young? 10
The ambition of a loving heart
Makes garrulous the tongue.
Memorials of thy aged Friend
Dora thou dost not need;
And when the cold earth covers her 15
No flattery shall she heed.
Yet still a lurking wish prevails
That when from life we all have passed
The friends who loved thy Father’s name
On her’s a thought may cast. 20
Dorothy Wordsworth.
January 1827.

1829

“MY LORD AND LADY DARLINGTON”

These lines were written by Wordsworth, after reading a sentence in the Stranger’s Book at “The Station,”—not a railway station!—on the western side of Windermere lake, opposite Bowness. Their poetic merit is slight, but they illustrate the honesty and directness of the writer’s mind. The Stranger’s Book at “The Station” contained the following:—

“Lord and Lady Darlington, Lady Vane, Miss Taylor, and Captain Stamp pronounce this Lake superior to Lac de Genève, Lago de Como, Lago Maggiore, L’Eau de Zurich, Loch Lomond, Loch Katerine, or the Lakes of Killarney.”-Ed.

My Lord and Lady Darlington,
I would not speak in snarling-tone;
Nor, to you, good Lady Vane,
Would I give one moment’s pain;
Nor Miss Taylor, Captain Stamp, 5
Would I your flights of memory cramp.
Yet, having spent a summer’s day
On the green margin of Loch Tay,
And doubled (prospect ever bettering)
The mazy reaches of Loch Katerine, 10
And more than once been free at Luss,
Loch Lomond’s beauties to discuss,
And wished, at least, to hear the blarney
Of the sly boatmen of Killarney,
And dipped my hand in dancing wave 15
Of Eau de Zurich, Lac Genève,
And bowed to many a major domo
On stately terraces of Como,
And seen the Simplon’s forehead hoary,
Reclined on Lago Maggiore 20
At breathless eventide at rest
On the broad water’s placid breast,
I, not insensible, Heaven knows,
To all the charms this Station shows,
Must tell you, Captain, Lord, and Ladies— 25
For honest worth one poet’s trade is—
That your praise appears to me
Folly’s own hyperbole.

1833

TO THE UTILITARIANS

These lines were written and sent in a letter to Henry Crabb Robinson, dated 5th May 1833.—Ed.

Avaunt this œconomic rage!
What would it bring?—an iron age,
Where Fact with heartless search explored
Shall be Imagination’s Lord,
And sway with absolute controul 5
The god-like Functions of the Soul.
Not thus can knowledge elevate
Our Nature from her fallen state.
With sober Reason Faith unites
To vindicate the ideal rights 10
Of human-kind—the tone agreeing
Of objects with internal seeing,
Of effort with the end of Being.

Wordsworth added, in the letter to Robinson, “Is the above intelligible? I fear not! I know, however, my own meaning, and that’s enough for Manuscripts.”—Ed.


1835

“THRONED IN THE SUN’S DESCENDING CAR”

These lines were placed by Wordsworth amongst the “Evening Voluntaries” in the two editions of Yarrow Revisited and other Poems (1835, 1836); but they were never afterwards reprinted in his life-time.—Ed.

For printing the following Piece, some reason should be given, as not a word of it is original: it is simply a fine stanza of Akenside,[401] connected with a still finer from Beattie[402]by a couplet of Thomson.[403] This practice, in which the author sometimes indulges, of linking together, in his own mind, favourite passages from different authors, seemed in itself unobjectionable; but, as the publishing such compilations might lead to confusion in literature, he should deem himself inexcusable in giving this specimen, were it not from a hope that it might open to others a harmless source of private gratification.—W. W. 1835.

Throned in the Sun’s descending car,
What Power unseen diffuses far
This tenderness of mind?
What Genius smiles on yonder flood?
What God in whispers from the wood 5
Bids every thought be kind?
O ever-pleasing solitude,
Companion of the wise and good.
Thy shades, thy silence, now be mine
Thy charms my only theme; 10
Why haunt the hollow cliff whose Pine
Waves o’er the gloomy stream;
Whence the scared Owl on pinions grey
Breaks from the rustling boughs,
And down the lone vale sails away 15
To more profound repose!

[401] See his Ode V., Against Suspicion, stanza viii.—Ed.

[402] See his poem, Retirement, 1758.—Ed.

[403] See his Hymn on Solitude, which begins, “Hail, ever-pleasing Solitude!”—Ed.

“AND OH! DEAR SOOTHER OF THE PENSIVE BREAST”

The following ten lines were written by Wordsworth in a copy of his works, after the lines To the Moon (Rydal) 1835. They may have been intended as a possible sequel to them, or to the lines To the Moon, composed by the Seaside—on the coast of Cumberland (1835).—Ed.

And oh! dear soother of the pensive breast,
Let homelier words without offence attest
How where on random topics as they hit
The moments’ humour, rough Tars spend their wit.
Thy changes, which to wiser Spirits seem 5
Dark as a riddle, prove a favourite theme;
Thy motions, intricate and manifold,
Oft help to make bold fancy’s flight more bold;
Beget strange themes; and to freaks give birth
Of speech as wild as ever heightened mirth. 10

1836

“SAID RED-RIBBONED EVANS”

On the 26th of March 1836, Wordsworth sent the following lines to Henry Crabb Robinson; written, he tells him, “immediately on reading Evans’s modest self-defence speech the other day.” George de Lacy Evans was radical member of Parliament for Westminster. “In 1835, he took command of the British Legion raised for the service of the Queen Regent of Spain against Don Carlos.” (Professor Dowden.)—Ed.

Said red-ribboned Evans:
“My legions in Spain
Were at sixes and sevens;
Now they’re famished or slain:
But no fault of mine, 5
For, like brave Philip Sidney,
In campaigning I shine,
A true knight of his kidney.
Sound flogging and fighting
No chief, on my troth, 10
E’er took such delight in
As I in them both.
Fontarabbia can tell
How my eyes watched the foe,
Hernani knows well 15
That our feet were not slow;
Our hospitals, too,
They are matchless in story;
Where her thousands Fate slew,
All panting for glory.” 20
Alas for this Hero!
His fame touched the skies,
Then fell below zero,
Never, never to rise!
For him to Westminster 25
Did Prudence convey,
There safe as a Spinster
The Patriot to play.
But why be so glad on
His feats or his fall? 30
He’s got his red ribbon,
And laughs at us all.

1837

ON AN EVENT IN COL. EVANS’S REDOUBTED PERFORMANCES IN SPAIN

Mrs. Wordsworth sent this to Henry Crabb Robinson in 1837, “to show you that we can write an Epigram—we do not say a good one.” She then quoted it, and added, “The Producer thinks it not amiss, as being murmured between sleep and awake over the fire, while thinking of you last night!”—Ed.

The Ball whizzed by,—it grazed his ear,
And whispered as it flew,
“I only touch—not take—don’t fear,
For both, my honest Buccaneer!
Are to the Pillory due.”

1838

“WOULDST THOU BE GATHERED TO CHRIST’S CHOSEN FLOCK”

The following lines were cut on the face of a rock at Rydal Mount in 1838. There, they still remain.—Ed.

Wouldst thou be gathered to Christ’s chosen flock,
Shun the broad way too easily explored,
And let thy path be hewn out of the Rock,
The living Rock of God’s eternal Word.

PROTEST AGAINST THE BALLOT, 1838[404]

Composed 1838.—Published 1838

Forth rushed, from Envy sprung and Self-conceit,
A Power misnamed the Spirit of Reform,
And through the astonished Island swept in storm,
Threatening to lay all Orders at her feet
That crossed her way. Now stoops she to entreat 5
Licence to hide at intervals her head,
Where she may work, safe, undisquieted,
In a close Box, covert for Justice meet.
St. George of England! keep a watchful eye
Fixed on the Suitor; frustrate her request— 10
Stifle her hope; for, if the State comply,
From such Pandorian gift may come a Pest
Worse than the Dragon that bowed low his crest,
Pierced by thy spear in glorious victory.

[404] In his notes to the volume of Collected Sonnets (1838), Wordsworth writes:—“‘Protest against the Ballot.’ Having in this notice alluded only in general terms to the mischief which, in my opinion, the Ballot would bring along with it, without especially branding its immoral and antisocial tendency (for which no political advantages, were they a thousand times greater than those presumed upon, could be a compensation), I have been impelled to subjoin a reprobation of it upon that score. In no part of my writings have I mentioned the name of any contemporary, that of Buonaparte only excepted, but for the purpose of eulogy; and therefore, as in the concluding verse of what follows, there is a deviation from this rule (for the blank will be easily filled up) I have excluded the sonnet from the body of the collection, and placed it here as a public record of my detestation, both as a man and a citizen, of the proposed contrivance.”

Then follows the sonnet beginning—

Said Secrecy to Cowardice and Fraud.

Ed.

“SAID SECRECY TO COWARDICE AND FRAUD”

Composed, probably, in 1838.—Published 1838[405]

Said Secrecy to Cowardice and Fraud,
Falsehood and Treachery, in close council met,
Deep under ground, in Pluto’s cabinet,
“The frost of England’s pride will soon be thawed;
Hooded the open brow that overawed 5
Our schemes; the faith and honour, never yet
By us with hope encountered, be upset;—
For once I burst my bands, and cry, applaud!”
Then whispered she, “The Bill is carrying out!”
They heard, and, starting up, the Brood of Night 10
Clapped hands, and shook with glee their matted locks;
All Powers and Places that abhor the light
Joined in the transport, echoed back their shout,
Hurrah for ——, hugging his Ballot-box![406]

[405] This was first published in a note to the sonnet entitled Protest against the Ballot, in the volume of 1838. It was never republished by Wordsworth.

[406] See the note to the previous sonnet. George Grote was the person satirised. “Since that time,” adds Mr. Reed, in a note to his American edition, “Mr. Grote’s political notoriety, as an advocate of the ballot, has been merged in the high reputation he has acquired as probably the most eminent modern historian of ancient Greece”—Ed.

A POET TO HIS GRANDCHILD
(SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING)[407]

Published 1838

“Son of my buried Son, while thus thy hand
Is clasping mine, it saddens me to think
How Want may press thee down, and with thee sink
Thy Children left unfit, through vain demand
Of culture, even to feel or understand 5
My simplest Lay that to their memory
May cling;—hard fate! which haply need not be
Did Justice mould the Statutes of the Land.
A Book time-cherished and an honoured name
Are high rewards; but bound they Nature’s claim 10
Or Reason’s? No—hopes spun in timid line
From out the bosom of a modest home
Extend through unambitious years to come,
My careless Little-one, for thee and thine!”[408][409]

[407] “The foregoing” was the Sonnet named A Plea for Authors, May 1838.—Ed.

[408] 1836.

Son of my buried Son, whose tiny hand
Thus clings to mine, it {saddens} me to think
{troubles}
That thou pressed down by poverty mayst sink
Even till thy children shall in vain demand
{Culture and neither feel nor} understand
{Culture required to feel and}
{My simplest lay that to their memory}
{My least recondite lay, which memory}
{Perchance may cleave}; hard fate, which need not be
{May keep in trust }
Did justice mould the statutes of the land.
{A book time-cherished} and an honoured name
{A cherished volume }
Are high rewards, but bound not {Reason’s} claim.
{Nature’s}
No—hopes {in fond hereditary line }
{and wishes in a living line}
Spun from the bosom of a modest home
Extend thro’ unambitious years to come,
My careless Little-one, for thee and thine!
MS.

[409] The author of an animated article, printed in the Law Magazine, in favour of the principle of Serjeant Talfourd’s Copyright Bill, precedes me in the public expression of this feeling; which had been forced too often upon my own mind, by remembering how few descendants of men eminent in literature are even known to exist.—W.W. 1838.

This sonnet was not addressed to any grandson of the Poet’s.—Ed.


1840

ON A PORTRAIT OF I.F., PAINTED BY MARGARET GILLIES[410]

Composed 1840.—Published 1850

We gaze—nor grieve to think that we must die,
But that the precious love this friend hath sown
Within our hearts, the love whose flower hath blown
Bright as if heaven were ever in its eye,
Will pass so soon from human memory; 5
And not by strangers to our blood alone,
But by our best descendants be unknown,
Unthought of—this may surely claim a sigh.
Yet, blessèd Art, we yield not to dejection:
Thou against Time so feelingly dost strive; 10
Where’er, preserved in this most true reflection,
An image of her soul is kept alive,
Some lingering fragrance of the pure affection,
Whose flower with us will vanish, must survive.
William Wordsworth.
Rydal Mount, New Year’s Day, 1840.

[410] See the note to the next sonnet.—Ed.

TO I.F.[411]

Composed 1840.—Published 1850

The star which comes at close of day to shine
More heavenly bright than when it leads the morn,
Is friendship’s emblem,[412] whether the forlorn
She visiteth, or, shedding light benign
Through shades that solemnize Life’s calm decline, 5
Doth make the happy happier. This have we
Learnt, Isabel, from thy society,
Which now we too unwillingly resign
Though for brief absence. But farewell! the page
Glimmers before my sight through thankful tears, 10
Such as start forth, not seldom, to approve
Our truth, when we, old yet unchill’d by age,
Call thee, though known but for a few fleet years,
The heart-affianced sister of our love!
William Wordsworth.
Rydal Mount, Feb. 1840.

[411] This and the preceding sonnet, beginning “We gaze—nor grieve to think that we must die,” were addressed to Miss Fenwick, to whom we owe the invaluable “Fenwick Notes.” Were it not that the date is very minutely given, I would believe that they belong to 1841, as Miss Gillies told me she resided at Rydal Mount in that year, when she painted Mrs. Wordsworth’s portrait.—Ed.

[412] 1850.

Bright is the star which comes at eve to shine
More heavenly bright than when it leads the morn,
And such is Friendship, whether the forlorn, etc. 1840.

“OH BOUNTY WITHOUT MEASURE, WHILE THE GRACE”

In his copy of the edition of 1845 at the close of the poem, Animal Tranquillity and Decay (1798) (see the “Poem referring to the Period of Old Age,” vol. i. p. 307), Henry Crabb Robinson wrote the following lines, sent to him by Wordsworth.—Ed.

Oh Bounty without measure, while the Grace
Of Heaven doth in such wise from humblest springs
Pour pleasures forth, and solaces that trace
A mazy course along familiar things,
Well may our hearts have faith that blessings come 5
Streaming from points above the starry sky,
With angels, when their own untroubled home
They leave, and speed on mighty embassy
To visit earthly chambers,—and for whom?
Yea, both for souls who God’s forbearance try, 10
And those that seek his help and for his mercy sigh.
7th April 1840. My 70th Birthday.
W.W.

1842

THE EAGLE AND THE DOVE[413]

The following poem was contributed to, and printed in, a volume entitled “La Petite Chouannerie, ou Histoire d’un Collège Breton sous l’Empire. Par A. F. Rio. Londres: Moxon, Dover Street, 1842,” pp. 62, 63. The Hon. Mrs. Norton, Walter Savage Landor, and Monckton Milnes (Lord Houghton), were among the other English contributors to the volume, the bulk of which is in French. It was printed at Paris, and numbered 398 pages, including the title. It was a narrative of “the romantic revolt of the royalist students of the college of Vannes in 1815, and of their battles with the soldiers of the French Empire.” (H. Reed.)—Ed.

Composed (?).—Published 1842

Shade of Caractacus, if spirits love
The cause they fought for in their earthly home,
To see the Eagle ruffled by the Dove
May soothe thy memory of the chains of Rome.
These children claim thee for their sire; the breath 5
Of thy renown, from Cambrian mountains, fans
A flame within them that despises death,
And glorifies the truant youth of Vannes.
With thy own scorn of tyrants they advance,
But truth divine has sanctified their rage, 10
A silver cross enchased with flowers of France
Their badge, attests the holy fight they wage.
The shrill defiance of the young crusade
Their veteran foes mock as an idle noise;
But unto Faith and Loyalty comes aid 15
From Heaven, gigantic force to beardless boys.

[413] In the volume from which the above is copied, the original French lines (commencing at p. 106) are printed side by side with Wordsworth’s translation, which ends on p. 111, and closes the volume.—Ed.

GRACE DARLING[414]

Composed 1842.—Published 1845

Wordsworth’s lines on Grace Darling were printed privately, and anonymously, at Carlisle, before they were included in the 1845 edition of his works. A copy was sent to Mr. Dyce, and is preserved in the Dyce Library at South Kensington. Another was sent to Professor Reed (March 27, 1843), with a letter, in which the following occurs: “I threw it off two or three weeks ago, being in a great measure impelled to it by the desire I felt to do justice to the memory of a heroine, whose conduct presented, some time ago, a striking contrast to the inhumanity with which our countrymen, shipwrecked lately upon the French coast, have been treated.”

Edward Quillinan, writing on 25th March 1843, enclosed a copy, adding, “Mr. Wordsworth desires me to send you the enclosed eulogy on Grace Darling, recently composed. He begs me to say that he wishes it kept out of the newspapers, as he has printed it only for some of his friends, and his friends’ friends more peculiarly interested in the subject, for the present. Do not therefore give a copy to any one.”

“Almost immediately after I had composed my tribute to the memory of Grace Darling, I learnt that the Queen and Queen Dowager had both just subscribed towards the erection of a monument to record her heroism, upon the spot that witnessed it.” (Wordsworth to Sir W. Gomm, March 24, 1843.)—Ed.

Among the dwellers in the silent fields
The natural heart is touched, and public way
And crowded streets resound with ballad strains,
Inspired by ONE whose very name bespeaks
Favour divine, exalting human love; 5
Whom, since her birth on bleak Northumbria’s coast,
Known unto few but prized as far as known,
A single Act endears to high and low
Through the whole land—to Manhood, moved in spite
Of the world’s freezing cares—to generous Youth— 10
To Infancy, that lisps her praise—to Age
Whose eye reflects it, glistening through a tear
Of tremulous admiration. Such true fame
Awaits her now; but, verily, good deeds
Do no imperishable record find 15
Save in the rolls of heaven, where hers may live
A theme for angels, when they celebrate
The high-souled virtues which forgetful earth
Has witness’d. Oh! that winds and waves could speak
Of things which their united power called forth 20
From the pure depths of her humanity!
A Maiden gentle, yet, at duty’s call,
Firm and unflinching, as the Lighthouse reared
On the Island-rock, her lonely dwelling-place;
Or like the invincible Rock itself that braves, 25
Age after age, the hostile elements,
As when it guarded holy Cuthbert’s cell.[415]
All night the storm had raged, nor ceased, nor paused,
When, as day broke, the Maid, through misty air,
Espies far off a Wreck, amid the surf, 30
Beating on one of those disastrous isles—
Half of a Vessel, half—no more; the rest
Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there
Had for the common safety striven in vain,
Or thither thronged for refuge.[416] With quick glance 35
Daughter and Sire through optic-glass discern,
Clinging about the remnant of this Ship,
Creatures—how precious in the Maiden’s sight!
For whom, belike, the old Man grieves still more
Than for their fellow-sufferers engulfed 40
Where every parting agony is hushed,
And hope and fear mix not in further strife.
“But courage, Father! let us out to sea—
A few may yet be saved.” The Daughter’s words,
Her earnest tone, and look beaming with faith, 45
Dispel the Father’s doubts: nor do they lack
The noble-minded Mother’s helping hand
To launch the boat; and with her blessing cheered,
And inwardly sustained by silent prayer,
Together they put forth, Father and Child! 50
Each grasps an oar, and struggling on they go—
Rivals in effort; and, alike intent
Here to elude and there surmount, they watch
The billows lengthening, mutually crossed
And shattered, and re-gathering their might; 55
As if the tumult, by the Almighty’s will
Were, in the conscious sea, roused and prolonged,[417]
That woman’s fortitude—so tried, so proved—
May brighten more and more!
True to the mark,
They stem the current of that perilous gorge, 60
Their arms still strengthening with the strengthening heart,
Though danger, as the Wreck is near’d, becomes
More imminent. Not unseen do they approach;
And rapture, with varieties of fear
Incessantly conflicting, thrills the frames 65
Of those who, in that dauntless energy,
Foretaste deliverance; but the least perturbed
Can scarcely trust his eyes, when he perceives
That of the pair—tossed on the waves to bring
Hope to the hopeless, to the dying, life— 70
One is a Woman, a poor earthly sister,
Or, be the Visitant other than she seems,
A guardian Spirit sent from pitying Heaven,
In woman’s shape. But why prolong the tale,
Casting weak words amid a host of thoughts 75
Armed to repel them? Every hazard faced
And difficulty mastered, with resolve
That no one breathing should be left to perish,
This last remainder of the crew are all
Placed in the little boat, then o’er the deep 80
Are safely borne, landed upon the beach,
And, in fulfilment of God’s mercy, lodged
Within the sheltering Lighthouse.—Shout, ye Waves!
Send forth a song of triumph. Waves and Winds,
Exult in this deliverance wrought through faith 85
In Him whose Providence your rage hath served![418]
Ye screaming Sea-mews, in the concert join!
And would that some immortal Voice—a Voice
Fitly attuned to all that gratitude
Breathes out from floor or couch, through pallid lips 90
Of the survivors—to the clouds might bear—
Blended with praise of that parental love,
Beneath whose watchful eye the Maiden grew
Pious and pure, modest and yet so brave,
Though young so wise, though meek so resolute— 95
Might carry to the clouds and to the stars,
Yea, to celestial Choirs, Grace Darling’s name!