Part 20

"Yes!" said the Solitary with a smile That seemed to break from an expanding heart, "The untutored bird may found, and so construct, 840 And with such soft materials line, her nest Fixed in the centre of a prickly brake, That the thorns wound her not; they only guard. Powers not unjustly likened to those gifts Of happy instinct which the woodland bird 845 Shares with her species, nature's grace sometimes Upon the individual doth confer, Among her[495] higher creatures born and trained To use of reason. And, I own that, tired Of the ostentatious world--a swelling stage 850 With empty actions and vain passions stuffed, And from the private struggles of mankind Hoping far[496] less than I could wish to hope, Far less than once I trusted and believed-- I love to hear of those, who, not contending 855 Nor summoned to contend for virtue's prize, Miss not the humbler good at which they aim, Blest with a kindly faculty to blunt The edge of adverse circumstance, and turn Into their contraries the petty plagues 860 And hindrances with which they stand beset. In early youth, among my native hills, I knew a Scottish Peasant who possessed A few small crofts of stone-encumbered ground; Masses of every shape and size, that lay 865 Scattered about under[497] the mouldering walls Of a rough precipice; and some, apart, In quarters unobnoxious to such chance, As if the moon had showered them down in spite. But he repined not. Though the plough was scared 870 By these obstructions, 'round the shady stones A fertilising moisture,' said the Swain, 'Gathers, and is preserved; and feeding dews 'And damps, through all the droughty summer day 'From out their substance issuing, maintain 875 'Herbage that never fails: no grass springs up 'So green, so fresh, so plentiful, as mine!' But[498] thinly sown these natures; rare, at least, The mutual aptitude of seed and soil That yields such kindly product. He, whose bed 880 Perhaps yon loose sods cover, the poor Pensioner Brought yesterday from our sequestered dell Here to lie down in lasting quiet, he, If living now, could otherwise report Of rustic loneliness: that grey-haired Orphan-- 885 So call him, for humanity to him No parent was--feelingly could[499] have told, In life, in death, what solitude can breed Of selfishness, and cruelty, and vice; Or, if it breed not, hath not power to cure. 890 --But your compliance, Sir! with our request My words too long have hindered." Undeterred, Perhaps incited rather, by these shocks, In no ungracious opposition, given To the confiding spirit of his own 895 Experienced faith, the reverend Pastor said, Around him looking; "Where shall I begin? Who shall be first selected from my flock Gathered together in their peaceful fold?" He paused--and having lifted up his eyes 900 To the pure heaven, he cast them down again Upon the earth beneath his feet; and spake:--

"To a mysteriously-united pair[500] This place is consecrate; to Death and Life, And to the best affections that proceed 905 From their conjunction; consecrate to faith In him who bled for man upon the cross; Hallowed to revelation; and no less[501] To reason's mandates; and the hopes divine Of pure imagination;--above all, 910 To charity, and love, that have provided, Within these precincts, a capacious bed And receptacle, open to the good And evil, to the just and the unjust; In which they find an equal resting-place: 915 Even as the multitude of kindred brooks And streams, whose murmur fills this hollow vale, Whether their course be turbulent or smooth, Their waters clear or sullied, all are lost Within the bosom of yon crystal Lake, 920 And end their journey in the same repose!

"And blest are they who sleep; and we that know, While in a spot like this we breathe and walk, That all beneath us by the wings are covered Of motherly humanity, outspread 925 And gathering all within their tender shade, Though loth and slow to come! A battle-field, In stillness left when slaughter is no more, With this compared, makes[502] a strange spectacle! A dismal prospect yields the wild shore strewn 930 With wrecks, and trod by feet of young and old Wandering about in miserable search Of friends or kindred,[503] whom the angry sea Restores not to their prayer! Ah! who would think That all the scattered subjects which compose 935 Earth's melancholy vision through the space Of all her climes--these wretched, these depraved, To virtue lost, insensible of peace, From the delights of charity cut off, To pity dead, the oppressor and the opprest; 940 Tyrants who utter the destroying word, And slaves who will consent to be destroyed-- Were of one species with the sheltered few, Who, with a dutiful and tender hand, Lodged, in a dear appropriated spot,[504] 945 This file of infants; some that never breathed The vital air; others, which, though allowed[505] That privilege, did yet expire too soon, Or with too brief a warning, to admit Administration of the holy rite 950 That lovingly consigns the babe to the arms Of Jesus, and his everlasting care. These that in trembling hope are laid apart; And the besprinkled nursling, unrequired Till he begins to smile upon the breast 955 That feeds him; and the tottering little-one Taken from air and sunshine when the rose Of infancy first blooms upon his cheek; The thinking, thoughtless, school-boy; the bold youth Of soul impetuous, and the bashful maid 960 Smitten while all the promises of life Are opening round her; those of middle age, Cast down while confident in strength they stand, Like pillars fixed more firmly, as might seem, And more secure, by very weight of all 965 That, for support, rests on them; the decayed And burthensome; and lastly, that poor few Whose light of reason is with age extinct; The hopeful and the hopeless, first and last, The earliest summoned and the longest spared-- 970 Are here deposited, with tribute paid Various, but unto each some tribute paid;[506] As if, amid these peaceful hills and groves, Society were touched with kind concern, And gentle 'Nature grieved, that one should die;'[GX] Or, if the change demanded no regret, 976 Observed the liberating stroke--and blessed.

"And whence that tribute? wherefore these regards?[GY] Not from the naked _Heart_ alone of Man (Though claiming high[507] distinction upon earth 980 As the sole spring and fountain-head of tears, His own peculiar utterance for distress Or gladness)--No," the philosophic Priest Continued, "'tis not in the vital seat Of feeling to produce them, without aid 985 From the pure soul, the soul sublime and pure; With her two faculties of eye and ear, The one by which a creature, whom his sins Have rendered prone, can upward[508] look to heaven; The other that empowers him to perceive 990 The voice of Deity, on height and plain, Whispering those truths in stillness, which the Word, To the four quarters of the winds, proclaims. Not without such assistance could the use Of these benign observances prevail: 995 Thus are they born, thus fostered, thus[509] maintained; And by the care prospective of our wise Forefathers, who, to guard against the shocks The fluctuation and decay of things, Embodied and established these high truths 1000 In solemn institutions:--men convinced That life is love and immortality, The being one, and one the element. There lies the channel, and original bed, From the beginning, hollowed out and scooped 1005 For Man's affections--else betrayed and lost, And swallowed up 'mid deserts infinite! This is the genuine course, the aim, and end Of prescient reason; all conclusions else Are abject, vain, presumptuous, and perverse. 1010 The faith partaking of those holy times, Life, I repeat, is energy of love Divine or human; exercised in pain, In strife, in tribulation; and ordained, If so approved and sanctified, to pass, 1015 Through shades and silent rest, to endless joy."[GZ]

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 417: 1836.

_Sight of a large and populous Vale--Solitary consents to go forward--Vale described_-- 1814. ]

[Footnote 418: 1836.

_The Church-yard_-- 1814. ]

[Footnote 419: _Apology for the Rite_--

First inserted in the edition of 1836.]

[Footnote 420: 1836.

_What sensations they excite_-- 1814. ]

[Footnote 421: 1827.

And guardian rocks!--With unreverted eyes I cannot pass thy bounds, attractive Seat! 1814. ]

[Footnote 422:

Open, to ... MS. ]

[Footnote 423: 1836.

Upon the side Of that brown ridge, sole outlet of the Vale, Lingering 1814.

Of that brown Slope, ... 1827. ]

[Footnote 424: 1836.

... of a troubled World. And now, pursuing leisurely my way, How vain, thought I, it is by change of place 1814. ]

[Footnote 425: 1827.

... tenor ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 426: 1845.

Obscurity, and calm forgetfulness. 1814. ]

[Footnote 427: 1814.

With ever-welcome ... 1827.

The text of 1836 returns to that of 1814.]

[Footnote 428: 1836.

By ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 429: 1845.

From which the road ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 430: 1827.

To that injunction, earnestly expressed, He yielded, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 431: 1845.

A popular equality doth seem Here to prevail; and yet a House of State Stands yonder, one beneath whose roof, methinks, A rural Lord might dwell." "No feudal pomp," Replied our Friend, a Chronicler who stood Where'er he moved upon familiar ground, "Nor feudal power is there; but there abides, In his allotted Home a genuine Priest, 1814.

A popular equality reigns here Save for one House of State beneath whose roof A rural Lord ... 1827. ]

[Footnote 432: 1827.

Under his spiritual sway, collected round him In this sequestered Realm. He hath vouchsafed 1814. ]

[Footnote 433: 1827.

... his ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 434: 1827.

This good to reap, these pleasures to secure, Hither, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 435: 1836.

... This deep vale Is lengthened out by many a winding reach, Not visible to us; and one of these A turretted manorial Hall adorns; In which the good Man's Ancestors have dwelt From age to age, the Patrons of this Cure. To them, and to his decorating hand, 1814.

To them, and to his own judicious hand, MS.

... This deep vale Winds far in reaches hidden from our eyes, 1827. ]

[Footnote 436: 1827.

... in ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 437: 1836.

... halting, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 438: 1827.

Not framed to ... 1814.

Nor shaped in ... MS. ]

[Footnote 439: 1845.

... in some thick grove, 1814.

... mid some thick grove, 1827. ]

[Footnote 440: 1845.

... the chancel only shewed Some inoffensive marks of earthly state And vain distinction.... 1814.

The Chancel only shewed So privileged of yore, without offence To piety, some marks of earthly state And vain distinction, Allowed by ancient privilege; though in sooth With the pure sanctity the place should breathe But ill according. A capacious pew Of sculptured oak stood here, with drapery lined And curtained closely round. Obnoxious less To blame or unavoidable regret, A high fixed hatchment, time-discoloured, told Of man's mortality and its own decay. C.

Some vain distinctions, an heraldic shield, In tincture varying as the sun might shine, Imbued its eastern window, and aloft A faded hatchment hung, and one by time Yet undiscoloured, marks of earthly state. C. ]

[Footnote 441: 1827.

Upon the walls; ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 442: 1845.

Without reluctance did we pay; and read 1814.

We paid to each with due respect, C. ]

[Footnote 443: 1827.

... and for this Yet more endeared to him, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 444: 1836.

As unconcerned as when he plants a tree? 1814. ]

[Footnote 445: 1836.

... by his voice 1814. ]

[Footnote 446: 1845.

... images and thoughts, And from the company of serious words. Much, yesterday, ... 1814.

And from the company of serious words, Which then were silent; but crave utterance now. Much," he continued, with dejected looks, "Much, yesterday, ... 1836. ]

[Footnote 447: 1827.

At its ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 448: 1836.

With tiny fingers, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 449: 1845.

... unblest ... 1814.

... humblest ... 1827. ]

[Footnote 450: 1827.

... tow'rds ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 451: 1836.

... doth a while sustain, 1814. ]

[Footnote 452: 1845.

... and ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 453: 1845.

Whom the best might of Conscience, Truth, and Hope, 1814. ]

[Footnote 454: 1845.

Foretelling total Winter, blank and cold. 1814.

Foretelling aged Winter's dreary sway. 1840.

Prelude to coming Winter's desolate sway. C. ]

[Footnote 455: 1827.

... adorn 1814. ]

[Footnote 456: 1827.

Do tend their flocks, These share Man's general lot 1814. ]

[Footnote 457: 1836.

Perchance, guilt's heavier woes; and do not feel 1814. ]

[Footnote 458: 1827.

... tow'rds ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 459: 1836.

Could have transferred him to his lonely House Within the circuit of those guardian rocks. 1814. ]

[Footnote 460: 1836.

... gentler ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 461: 1827.

... full ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 462: 1836.

Thus truth is missed, and comprehension fails; And darkness ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 463: 1836.

... and ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 464: 1827.

... or ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 465: 1820.

... forbidding ... 1814.

The texts of 1827 to 1843 and that of 1847 return to the text of 1814.]

[Footnote 466: 1836.

... or approached. Permit me," said the Priest continuing, "here To use an illustration of my thought, Drawn from the very spot on which we stand. --In changeful April, when, as he is wont, Winter has reassumed a short lived sway And whitened all the surface of the fields, If--from the sullen region of the North Towards the circuit of this holy ground Your walk conducts you, ere the vigorous sun, High climbing, hath attained his noon-tide height-- These Mounds, ... 1814.

Thus, when in changeful April snow has fallen, And fields are white, if from the sullen north Your walk conduct you hither, ere the Sun Hath gained his noontide height, this churchyard, filled With mounds ... 1827.

... ere vigorous sun MS. ]

[Footnote 467: 1827.

A dreary plain of unillumined snow, 1814. ]

[Footnote 468: 1827.

... Go forward, and look back; On the same circuit of this church-yard ground Look, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 469: 1836.

Hopeful and cheerful:--vanished is the snow, Vanished or hidden; ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 470: 1827.

A ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 471: 1827.

And ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 472: 1836.

... spade, and shepherd's simple crook, 1814. ]

[Footnote 473: 1827.

... where You have long Held spiritual sway, have guided and consoled, And watched the outward course and inner heart. 1814. ]

[Footnote 474: Italics were first used in 1827.]

[Footnote 475: 1827.

... it ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 476: 1845.

And on the bosom of the mountain dwell-- 1814. ]

[Footnote 477: 1836.

... above the chimney top; In shape, in size, and colour, an abode 1814.

... above the chimney top: A rough abode--in colour, shape, and size, 1827. ]

[Footnote 478: 1814.

Few only in the scale of culture, hold Among my flock ... C. ]

[Footnote 479: 1845.

But humbleness of heart descends from heaven; 1814. ]

[Footnote 480: 1827.

... those ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 481: 1836.

A lone way-faring Man, I once was brought. Dark on my road the autumnal evening fell While I was traversing yon mountain-pass, 1814. ]

[Footnote 482: 1814.

And with the night succeeded a thick gloom, C. ]

[Footnote 483: 1845.

So that my feet and hands at length became 1814. ]

[Footnote 484: 1827.

Said I, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 485: 1836.

... open ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 486: 1827.

... which the lofty Site, Far from all public road or beaten way And traversed only by a few faint paths, 1814. ]

[Footnote 487: 1832.

(Such chance is rare) detains him till the night Falls black upon the hills. "But come," she said, "Come let me lead you to our poor Abode. Behind those rocks it stands, as if it shunned, In churlishness, the eye of all mankind; But the few Guests who seek the door receive Most hearty welcome."-- ... 1814.

Detains him after his accustomed hour When night lies black upon the hills. 'But come, 1827. ]

[Footnote 488: 1827.

... Before ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 489: 1845.

But more was given; the eye, the mind, the heart, Found exercise in noting, as we sate By the bright fire, the good Man's face--composed Of features elegant; ... 1814.

But more was given; I studied as we sate 1827. ]

[Footnote 490: 1836.

... these ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 491: 1814.

Sweetened for me our mutual good night Nor left me on a lonely pillow stretched Till slumber had given way to dreamless sleep. C. ]

[Footnote 492: 1814.

... God's ... C. ]

[Footnote 493: 1820.

... nor seldom ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 494: 1845.

"--But, above all, my Thoughts are my support." The Matron ended-- ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 495: 1827.

... the ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 496: 1836.

... for ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 497: 1832.

... beneath ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 498: 1827.

... so plentiful, as mine!" See, in this well conditioned Soul, a Third To match with your good Couple that put forth Their homely graces on the mountain side. But ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 499: 1832.

... could feelingly ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 500: 1845.

... mysteriously-consorted Pair 1814. ]

[Footnote 501: 1814.

... and therewith C. ]

[Footnote 502: 1845.

... is ... 1814.

... yields ... 1836. ]

[Footnote 503: 1836.

A rueful sight the wild shore strewn with wrecks And trod by people in afflicted quest Of friends and kindred, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 504: 1836.

Did lodge, in an appropriated spot, 1814. ]

[Footnote 505: 1836.

... and others, who allowed 1814. ]

[Footnote 506: 1814.

Are here deposited as the like shall be Through ages yet to come. C. ]

[Footnote 507: 1827.

... framed to high ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 508: 1814.

... upward can ... C. ]

[Footnote 509: 1836.

... and ... 1814. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote FY: With this compare _The Prelude_, book i. line 463 (vol. iii. p. 146)--

Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep. ]

[Footnote FZ: The "semicirque of turf-clad ground," where the conversations recorded in books iii. and iv. had been carried on.--ED.]

[Footnote GA: Towards Little Langdale.--ED.]

[Footnote GB: See Matthew Arnold's address as President of the Wordsworth Society, in its _Transactions_ for the year 1883.--ED.]