VARIANTS:

[3] 1836.

1814.
the Wanderer, of whom he gives an account

[4] 1827.

From many a brooding cloud; far as the sight
1814.
Could reach, those many shadows lay in spots

[5] 1845.

1814.
Pleasant to him who on the soft cool moss

[6] 1845.

By that impending covert made more soft,
More low and distant! Other lot was mine;
Yet with good hope that soon I should obtain
1814.
As grateful resting-place, and livelier joy.
By power of that impending covert thrown
1827.
To finer distance. Other lot was mine;
... Other lot was mine;
Though with good hope to cheer the sultry hour
That under shade as grateful I should soon
C.
Rest, and be welcomed there to livelier joy.
... Mine was at that hour
A toilsome lot, yet with good hope that soon
C.
Under a shade as grateful I should find

[7] 1845.

1814.
With languid feet, which by the slippery ground
1827.
With languid steps that ...

[8]

Across a bare wide common I was toiling
When oft each footstep by the slippery turf
Was baffled: nor could my arm disperse
The host of insects gathered round my face,
And ever with me as I paced along.
Now with eyes turned towards the far-distant hills,
Now towards a grove that from the wide-spread moor
C.
Rose up! the port to which my course was bound.

[9] 1845.

Upon that open level stood a Grove,
1814.
The wished-for Port to which my steps were bound.
1827.
... my course was bound.

[10] 1845.

1814.
Him whom I sought; ....

[11] 1827.

And in the middle of the public way
Stationed, as if to rest himself, with face
Turned tow'rds the sun then setting, while that staff
1814.
Afforded to his Figure, as he stood,
Him had I chanced to mark the day before
Alone, and stationed in the public way;
Westward he looked as if his gaze were fixed
C.
Upon the sun then setting, ...

[12] 1845.

... the countenance of the Man
1814.
Was hidden from my view, and he himself
... his countenance meanwhile
1827.
Was hidden from my view, and he remain'd

[13] C. and 1845.

1814.
Beneath the shelter ...

[14] 1845.

We were tried Friends: I from my Childhood up
Had known him.—In a little Town obscure,
A market-village, seated in a tract
Of mountains, where my school-day time was pass'd,
One room he owned, the fifth part of a house,
1814.
A place to which he drew, from time to time,
We were tried Friends: amid a pleasant vale,
In the antique market village where were pass'd
My school-days, an apartment he had own'd,
1827.
To which at intervals the Wanderer drew,

[15] 1827.

On holidays, we wandered through the woods,
A pair of random travellers; we sate—
1814.
We walked; he pleas'd me with his sweet discourse

[16] 1827.

1814.
... he sang

[17] 1814.

C.
Old songs brought with him from his native hills;

[18] 1827.

1814.
The doings, observations, which his mind
His habits, observations, and the thoughts
MS.
He cherished— ...

[19] 1827.

1814.
There, ...

[20] 1827

His Father dwelt; and died in poverty;
While He, whose lowly fortune I retrace,
The youngest of three sons, was yet a babe,
A little One—unconscious of their loss.
But ere he had outgrown his infant days
His widowed Mother, for a second Mate,
Espoused the Teacher of the Village School;
Who on her offspring zealously bestowed
Needful instruction; not alone in arts
Which to his humble duties appertained,
But in the lore of right and wrong, the rule
Of human kindness, in the peaceful ways
Of honesty, and holiness severe.
1814.
A virtuous Household ...

[21] 1827.

1814.
To his Step-father's School, that stood alone,

[22] 1827.

1814.
Far from the sight ...

[23] 1836.

1814.
He had ...

[24] 1845.

... had impressed
Great objects on his mind, with portraiture
And colour so distinct, that on his mind
They lay like substances, and almost seemed
1814.
To haunt the bodily sense. He had received
... had impressed
Upon his mind great objects so distinct
In portraiture, in colouring so vivid,
That on his mind they lay like substances,
And almost indistinguishably mixed
C.
With things of bodily sense....

[25]

(Vigorous in native genius as he was)

This line appeared only in 1814 and 1820.

[26] 1827.

From early childhood, even, as hath been said,
From his sixth year, he had been sent abroad
In summer to tend herds: such was his task
Thenceforward 'till the later day of youth.
O then what soul was his, when, on the tops
1814.
Of the high mountains, he beheld the sun

[27] 1845.

And ocean's liquid mass, beneath him lay
In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touch'd,
1814.
And in their silent faces did he read
1836.
... could he read

[28] 1827.

1814.
... He had early learned

[29] 1827.

1814.
... which ...

[30] 1832.

1814.
There did he see the writing;—all things there
1827.
Responsive to the writing, all things there

[31] 1827.

1814.
In many a calmer hour ...

[32] 1827.

1814.
... yet to a neighbouring town

[33] 1827.

1814.
... which ...

[34] 1827.

1814.
His Step-father ...

[35] 1827.

... What could he do
With blind endeavours, in that lonesome life,
1814.
Thus thirsting daily?...

[36] 1827.

1814.
... which ...

[37] 1832.

1814.
... th' altitude ...

[38] 1827.

1814.
Which ...

[39] 1845.

Inscribed, as with the silence of the thought,
1814.
Upon it's bleak and visionary sides,

[40] 1827.

1814.
With an increasing weight; ...

[41] 1827.

He asked repose; and I have heard him say
1814.
That often, failing at this time to gain

[42] 1827.

A cloud of mist, which in the sunshine frames
A lasting tablet—for the observer's eye
1814.
Varying it's rainbow hues....

[43] 1827.

Thus, even from Childhood upward, was he reared;
For intellectual progress wanting much,
1814.
Doubtless, of needful help—yet gaining more;

[44] 1827.

1814.
... which ...

[45] 1827.

The Mother strove to make her Son perceive
With what advantage he might teach a School
In the adjoining Village; but the Youth,
Who of this service made a short essay,
Found that the wanderings of his thought were then
1814.
A misery to him; that he must resign

[46] 1836.

Through dusty ways, in storm, from door to door,
1814.
A vagrant Merchant bent beneath his load!
1827.
Through hot and dusty ways, or pelting storm,

[47] 1845.

1814.
... for him it bore

[48] 1827.

He asked his Mother's blessing; and, with tears
Thanking his second Father, asked from him
1814.
Paternal blessings. The good Pair bestowed

[49] 1827.

1814.
Which, ...

[50] 1827.

Upon the bounties of the year, and felt
1814.
The liberty of Nature; ...

[51] 1827.

... —This active course,
Chosen in youth, through manhood he pursued,
Till due provision for his modest wants
1814.
Had been obtained;—and, thereupon, resolved

[52] 1827.

... and, when the summer's warmth
Invited him, would often leave his home
And journey far, revisiting those scenes
1814.
Which to his memory were most endeared.

[53] 1827.

1814.
... untouched

[54] 1827.

1814.
Framed ...

[55] 1836.

1814.
Or ...

[56]

Nor could he bid them from his presence, tired
With questions and importunate demands:

These two lines appeared only in 1814 and 1820.

[57] 1827.

... He had not heard my steps
As I approached; and near him did I stand
1814.
Unnotic'd in the shade, some minutes' space.

[58] 1827.

And ere the pleasant greeting that ensued
1814.
Was ended, "'Tis," said I, ...

[59] 1827.

1814.
... but you, I guess,

[60] 1827.

... He, at the word,
Pointing towards a sweet briar, bade me climb
The fence hard by, where that aspiring shrub
1814.
Looked out upon the road ...
... He raised his hand,
C.
And to a sweet-briar pointing, bade me climb

[61] 1814.

The gooseberry-trees that showed their dwindled fruit
Hanging in long lank slips, or leafless strings
C.
Of currants might have tempted to o'erleap

[62] 1827.

1814.
... As I stooped ...

[63] 1836.

Green with the moss of years; a pensive sight
That moved my heart!—recalling former days
When I could never pass that road but She
1814.
Who lived within these walls, at my approach.
Green with the moss of years, and subject only
To the soft handling of the Elements:
There let the relic lie—fond thought—vain words!
Forgive them—never did my steps approach
1827.
This humble door but she who dwelt within
Forgive them;—never—never did my steps
1832.
Approach this door but she who dwelt within
Forgive them for the sake of her who dwelt
Within these walls, who here so oft hath giv'n
MS.
To me a daughter's greeting; and I loved her
Green with the moss of years. Upon the simple sight
As there it lay I could not look unmoved!
Forgive the weakness—never did step of mine
C.
Approach this door, but she who dwelt within

[64] 1827.

With chearful hope: but ere the second autumn
1814.
Her life's true Help-mate on a sick-bed lay,

[65] 1827.

Was all consumed. Two children had they now,
One newly born. As I have said, it was
A time of trouble; shoals of Artisans
Were from their daily labour turn'd adrift
1814.
To seek their bread from public charity,

[66] 1827.

That peck along the hedges, or the Kite
1814.
That makes his dwelling on the mountain Rocks!

[67] 1836.

1814.
... At his door ...

[68] 1836.

1814.
He blended, ...

[69] 1836.

1814.
Without an errand, would direct his steps,

[70] 1845.

1814.
Is filling all the air with melody;

[71] 1845.

1814.
... in an Old Man's eye?

[72] 1827.

There was a heart-felt chillness in my veins.—
I rose; and, turning from the breezy shade,
Went forth into the open air, and stood
To drink the comfort of the warmer sun.
1814.
Long time I had not staid, ere, looking round

[73] 1814.

MS.
But ...

[74] 1827.

... far remote.
And glad I was, when, halting by yon gate
That leads from the green lane, once more I saw
These lofty elm-trees. Long I did not rest:
With many pleasant thoughts I chear'd my way
O'er the flat Common.—Having reached the door
I knock'd,—and, when I entered with the hope
1814.
Of usual greeting, Margaret looked at me

[75] 1832.

1814.
Or ...

[76] 1814.

With fervent love, and with a look of grief
Unutterable, and with a helpless look
C.
That seemed to cling upon me, ...

[77] 1827.

1814.
... but therein

[78] 1836.

Which placed it there: and ere that day was ended,
That long and anxious day! I learned from One
Sent hither by my Husband to impart
1814.
The heavy news,—that he had joined a Troop.

[79] 1827.

1814.
Towards the wane of Summer; when the wheat

[80] 1827.

1814.
... only, I thought,

[81] 1845.

Its pride of neatness. From the border lines
Composed of daisy and resplendent thrift,
Flowers straggling forth had on those paths encroached
1814.
Which they were used to deck:— ...
... Daisy-flow'rs and thrift
Had broken their trim lines, and straggled o'er
1827.
The paths they used to deck:— ...

[82] 1832.

1814.
... without support.

[83]

And, as I walked before the door, it chanced

This line appeared only in 1814 and 1820.

[84] 1827.

And, looking round, I saw the corner stones,
1814.
Till then unnotic'd, on either side the door

[85] 1827.

1814.
... I have waked; ...

[86] 1832.

1814.
... "that heaven

[87] 1845.

1814.
... were downward cast;

[88] 1827.

1814.
... to have her trust

[89] 1836.

1814.
Methought ...

[90] 1845.

1814.
Ere ...

[91] 1814.

... sad and drooping. Time had brought
No tidings which might lead her anxious mind
C.
To a source of quiet; if her husband lived,

[92] 1845.

... Once again
1814.
I turned towards the garden gate, and saw,

[93] 1845.

... Towards the House
1814.
Together we returned; and she enquired
... Back to the house
MS.
We turned together, silent, till she asked

[94] 1836.

At length towards the Cottage I returned
1814.
Fondly,—and traced, with interest more mild,

[95] The lines from "Nor more would she" to "Sufferer" (934-9) were added in 1845.