The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 5 (of 8)
Part 9
"I, who weep little, did, I will confess, The moment I was seated here alone, Honour my little cell with some few tears Which anger and[202] resentment could not dry. All night the storm endured; and, soon as help 805 Had been collected from the neighbouring vale, With morning we renewed our quest: the wind Was fallen, the rain abated, but the hills Lay shrouded in impenetrable mist; And long and hopelessly we sought in vain: 810 'Till, chancing on that[203] lofty ridge to pass A heap of ruin--almost without walls And wholly without roof (the bleached remains Of a small chapel, where, in ancient time, The peasants of these lonely valleys used 815 To meet for worship on that central height)-- We there espied the object of our search,[204] Lying full three parts buried among tufts Of heath-plant, under and above him strewn, To baffle, as he might, the watery storm: 820 And there we found him breathing peaceably, Snug as a child that hides itself in sport 'Mid a green hay-cock in a sunny field. We spake--he made reply, but would not stir At our entreaty; less from want of power 825 Than apprehension and bewildering thoughts.[CP] "So was he lifted gently from the ground, And with their freight homeward the shepherds[205] moved Through the dull mist, I following--when a step, A single step, that freed me from the skirts 830 Of the blind vapour, opened to my view Glory beyond all glory ever seen By waking sense or by the dreaming soul! The appearance,[206] instantaneously disclosed, Was of a mighty city--boldly say 835 A wilderness of building, sinking far And self-withdrawn into a boundless[207] depth, Far sinking into splendour--without end! Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, 840 And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted; here, serene pavilions bright, In avenues disposed; there, towers begirt With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars--illumination of all gems! 845 By earthly nature had the effect been wrought Upon the dark materials of the storm Now pacified; on them, and on the coves And mountain-steeps and summits, whereunto The vapours had receded, taking there 850 Their station under a cerulean sky. Oh, 'twas an unimaginable sight! Clouds, mists, streams, watery rocks and emerald turf, Clouds of all tincture, rocks and sapphire sky, Confused, commingled, mutually inflamed, 855 Molten together, and composing thus, Each lost in each, that marvellous array Of temple, palace, citadel, and huge Fantastic pomp of structure without name, In fleecy folds voluminous, enwrapped. 860 Right in the midst, where interspace appeared Of open court, an object like a throne Under[208] a shining canopy of state Stood fixed; and fixed resemblances were seen To implements of ordinary use, 865 But vast in size, in substance glorified; Such as by Hebrew Prophets were beheld In vision[CQ]--forms uncouth of mightiest power For admiration and mysterious awe. This little Vale, a dwelling-place of Man,[209] 870 Lay low beneath my feet; 'twas visible-- I saw not, but I felt that it was there. That which I _saw_ was the revealed abode Of Spirits in beatitude: my heart 874 Swelled in my breast.--'I have been dead,' I cried, 'And now I live! Oh! wherefore _do_ I live?' And with that pang I prayed to be no more!-- --But I forget our Charge, as utterly I then forgot him:--there I stood and gazed: The apparition faded not away, 880 And I descended.[CR] "Having reached the house, I found its rescued inmate safely lodged, And in serene possession of himself, Beside a fire whose genial warmth seemed met By a faint shining from the heart, a gleam 885 Of comfort, spread over his pallid face.[210] Great show of joy the housewife made, and truly Was glad to find her conscience set at ease; And not less glad, for sake of her good name, That the poor Sufferer had escaped with life. 890 But, though he seemed at first to have received No harm, and uncomplaining as before Went through his usual tasks, a silent change Soon showed itself: he lingered three short weeks; And from the cottage hath been borne to-day. 895
"So ends my dolorous tale, and glad I am That it is ended." At these words he turned-- And, with blithe air of open fellowship, Brought from the cupboard wine and stouter cheer, Like one who would be merry. Seeing this, 900 My grey-haired Friend said courteously--"Nay, nay, You have regaled us as a hermit ought; Now let us forth into the sun!"--Our Host Rose, though reluctantly, and forth we went.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 100:
_--feelings of the Author at the sight of it--_ Inserted from 1814 to 1832. ]
[Footnote 101:
_--Brief conversation--_ Inserted from 1814 to 1832. ]
[Footnote 102: 1836
_Quit_ 1814. ]
[Footnote 103: 1827.
Than this obscure Itinerant (an obscure, But a high-souled and tender-hearted Man) Had skill to draw from many a ramble, far And wide protracted, through the tamer ground 1814. ]
[Footnote 104:
And pathways winding on from farm to farm, This line appeared only in 1814 and 1820. ]
[Footnote 105: 1836.
... beneath ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 106: 1827.
... which ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 107: 1827.
... supply: 1814. ]
[Footnote 108:
Along the field, and in the shady grove; This line appeared only in 1814 and 1820. ]
[Footnote 109: C. and 1845.
--Greetings and smiles we met with all day long From faces that he knew; ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 110: 1845.
... come from far. 1814. ]
[Footnote 111: This line was added in 1845.]
[Footnote 112: 1827.
Wherein his charity ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 113: 1827.
... itself ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 114: 1832.
My Fellow Traveller said with earnest voice, As if the thought were but a moment old, That I must yield myself without reserve To his disposal. Glad was I of this: 1814.
My Fellow traveller claim'd with earnest voice, As if the thought were but a moment old, An absolute dominion for the day. 1827. ]
[Footnote 115: 1836.
... and he led towards the hills, 1814. ]
[Footnote 116: 1827.
Mount slowly, Sun! and may our journey lie Awhile within the shadow of this hill, This friendly hill, a shelter from thy beams! 1814. ]
[Footnote 117: 1827.
... wish; And as that wish, with prevalence of thanks For present good o'er fear of future ill, Stole in among the morning's blither thoughts, 1814. ]
[Footnote 118: 1827.
... tow'rds ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 119: 1827.
... ear, did to the question yield 1814. ]
[Footnote 120: 1836.
... and ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 121: C. and 1845.
Here would I linger, and ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 122: 1827.
... will ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 123: 1845.
We must proceed--a length of journey yet Remains untraced." ... 1814. A length of journey yet remains untrod, Let us proceed." ... C. ]
[Footnote 124: 1832.
Towards those craggy summits, ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 125: 1827.
Upon the humblest ground of social life, Doth at this day, I trust, the blossoms bear Of piety and simple innocence. 1814. ]
[Footnote 126: 1827.
And, as he shewed in study forward zeal, All helps were sought, all measures strained, that He, By due scholastic discipline prepared, Might to the Ministry be called: which done, Partly through lack of better hopes--and part Perhaps incited by a curious mind, In early life he undertook the charge 1814. ]
[Footnote 127: 1827.
... and, ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 128: 1845.
... How full their joy, How free their love! nor did their love decay; Nor joy abate, till, pitiable doom! 1814.
... nor did that love decay, 1827.
How free their love, till all by death was blasted In one undreaded year, Death swept away Two lovely ... C. ]
[Footnote 129: 1845.
... compelled By pain to turn his thoughts towards the grave, And face the regions of Eternity. 1814.
... compelled To commune with the grave soul-sick, and face With pain ... C. ]
[Footnote 130: 1827.
The ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 131: 1827.
... France! That sudden light had power to pierce the gloom In which his Spirit, friendless upon earth, In separation dwelt, and solitude. The voice of social transport ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 132: 1827.
That righteous Cause of freedom did, we know, Combine, for one hostility, as friends, 1814. ]
[Footnote 133: 1827.
... its ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 134: 1827.
... those ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 135: 1827.
Which, ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 136: 1836.
... he still ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 137: 1836.
... such ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 138: 1827.
... and ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 139: 1827.
... this gone, therewith he lost 1814. ]
[Footnote 140: 1827.
... hate! --And thus beset, and finding in himself Nor pleasure nor tranquillity, at last, After a wandering course of discontent In foreign Lands, and inwardly oppressed 1814. ]
[Footnote 141: 1845.
In self-indulging spleen, that doth not want 1814. ]
[Footnote 142: 1827.
With which my Fellow-traveller had beguiled 1814. ]
[Footnote 143: 1827.
Now, suddenly diverging, he began To climb upon its western side a Ridge Pathless and smooth, a long and steep ascent; As if the object of his quest had been 1814. ]
[Footnote 144: 1845.
Of water--or some boastful Eminence, 1814. ]
[Footnote 145: 1827.
We clomb without a track to guide our steps; And, on the summit, reached a heathy plain, 1814.
A steep ascent, and reached at length a dreary plain, MS. ]
[Footnote 146:
... region! and I walked In weariness: ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 147: 1827.
... which ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 148: 1836.
... soft it seems to lie, 1814. ]
[Footnote 149: 1827.
On these and other kindred thoughts intent, In silence by my Comrade's side I lay, 1814. ]
[Footnote 150: 1827.
... towards the Hut, 1814. ]
[Footnote 151: 1814.
... These words, Said my companion, sighing as he spoke, Were chosen by himself, God rest his soul. C. ]
[Footnote 152: 1845.
The Wanderer cried, ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 153: 1814.
He is it not perhaps ... C. ]
[Footnote 154: 1836.
... upon ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 155: 1827.
... in the course I took, 1814. ]
[Footnote 156: 1827.
... aside! It was an Entry, narrow as a door; A passage whose brief windings opened out 1814. ]
[Footnote 157: 1827.
... a single ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 158: 1827.
Met in an angle, hung a tiny roof, Or penthouse, which most quaintly had been framed By thrusting two rude sticks into the wall 1814. ]
[Footnote 159: 1827.
Whose simple skill had thronged the grassy floor With work of frame less solid, a proud show 1814. ]
[Footnote 160: 1827.
Who, having entered, carelessly looked round, And now would have passed on; when I exclaimed, 1814. ]
[Footnote 161:
1845.
... "Gracious Heaven!" The Wanderer cried, "it cannot but be his, 1814. ]
[Footnote 162:
1814.
"It cannot," said the Wanderer, "but be his, And he is gone!" ... C. ]
[Footnote 163:
1827.
... here no doubt He sometimes played with them; and here hath sate Far oftener by himself. This Book, I guess, Hath been forgotten in his careless way; Left here when he was occupied in mind; And by the Cottage Children has been found. 1814. ]
[Footnote 164:
1827.
... things; Nor, with the knowledge which my mind possessed, Could I behold it undisturbed: 'tis strange, I grant, and stranger still had been to see The Man, who was its Owner, dwelling here, 1814. ]
[Footnote 165:
1827.
... the 1814. ]
[Footnote 166:
1827.
I knew, from the appearance and the dress, 1814. ]
[Footnote 167:
1845.
A tall and meagre person, in a garb 1814. ]
[Footnote 168:
1827.
Which on a leaf he carried in his hand, Strings of ripe currants; ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 169:
1827.
Glad was my Comrade now, though he at first, I doubt not, had been more surprized than glad. But now, recovered from the shock and calm, He soberly advanced; and to the Man Gave chearful greeting.--Vivid was the light Which flashed at this from out the Other's eyes; 1814. ]
[Footnote 170:
1845.
He was all fire: the sickness from his face Passed like a fancy that is swept away; 1814. ]
[Footnote 171:
1840.
... more, And much of what had vanished was returned, 1814. ]
[Footnote 172:
1827.
... little 1814. ]
[Footnote 173:
1845.
He knows not why;--but he, perchance, this day, Is shedding Orphan's tears; and you yourself 1814. ]
[Footnote 174: 1836.
... Often have I stopped When on my way, I could not chuse but stop, So much I felt the awfulness of Life, 1814.
....Often have I stopped, So much I felt the awfulness of life, 1827.
The text of 1832 returns to that of 1814. ]
[Footnote 175: 1845.
... to its home, Its final home in earth.... 1814.
... to its home, Its final home on earth.... 1836. ]
[Footnote 176: 1836.
... towards the grave 1814. ]
[Footnote 177: 1827.
... in this Solitude, (That seems by Nature framed to be the seat And very bosom of pure innocence) 1814. ]
[Footnote 178: 1845.
In what it values most--the love of God 1814.
In what she values most--the love of God 1827.
And more as years are multiplied With what she most delights in, love of God C. ]
[Footnote 179: 1836.
... Saying this he led Towards the Cottage;--homely was the spot; 1814. ]
[Footnote 180: 1827.
... Valley's brink 1814. ]
[Footnote 181: 1827.
... that ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 182: 1845.
Was silent; and the solitary clock Ticked, as I thought, with melancholy sound.-- 1814. ]
[Footnote 183: 1845.
We had around us! ... 1814.
Had we around us! ... 1827. ]
[Footnote 184: 1827.
... moss; and here and there Lay, intermixed with these, mechanic tools, And scraps of paper,--some I could perceive 1814. ]
[Footnote 185:
... the ... MS. ]
[Footnote 186: 1845.
... load 1814. ]
[Footnote 187: 1827.
... curds, ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 188: 1832.
Butter that had imbibed a golden tinge, A hue like that of yellow meadow flowers Reflected faintly in a silent pool. 1814.
From meadow flowers, hue delicate as theirs Faintly reflected in a lingering stream; 1827. ]
[Footnote 189:
Became ... MS. ]
[Footnote 190: 1827.
"Those lusty Twins on which your eyes are cast," Exclaimed our Host, "if here you dwelt, would be 1814. ]
[Footnote 191: 1827.
... frame; ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 192: 1845.
With brightening face The Wanderer heard him speaking thus, and said, 1814.
A fall of voice, Regretted like the Nightingale's last note, Had scarcely closed this high-wrought Rhapsody, 1827.
Had scarcely closed this strain of thankful rapture, C.
Ere with inviting voice ... MS. ]
[Footnote 193: 1827.
... unawares And was forgotten. Let this challenge stand For my excuse, if what I shall relate Tire your attention.--Outcast and cut off As we seem here, and must have seemed to you 1814. ]
[Footnote 194: 1845.
... of ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 195: 1836.
... ordinance ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 196: 1827.
... was ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 197: 1836.
... beneath ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 198: 1827.
useful ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 199: 1827.
... from mid-noon the rain 1814. ]
[Footnote 200: 1827.
... mountain 1814. ]
[Footnote 201: 1827.
Came not, and now perchance upon the Heights 1814. ]
[Footnote 202: 1827.
... or ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 203: 1827.
Till, chancing by yon ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 204: 1827.
And wholly without roof (in ancient time It was a Chapel, a small Edifice In which the Peasants of these lonely Dells For worship met upon that central height)-- Chancing to pass this wreck of stones, we there Espied at last the Object of our search, Couched in a nook, and seemingly alive. It would have moved you, had you seen the guise In which he occupied his chosen bed, 1814. ]
[Footnote 205: 1836.
... the Shepherds homeward ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 206: 1827.
... dreaming soul! --Though I am conscious that no power of words Can body forth, no hues of speech can paint That gorgeous spectacle--too bright and fair Even for remembrance; yet the attempt may give Collateral interest to this homely Tale. The Appearance, ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 207: 1845.
... wondrous ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 208: 1836.
Beneath ... 1814. ]
[Footnote 209: 1845.
Below me was the earth; this little Vale 1814. ]
[Footnote 210: 1836.
Beside a genial fire; that seemed to spread A gleam of comfort o'er his pallid face. 1814. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote BJ: In the Fenwick note Wordsworth says, "In the poem, I suppose that the Pedlar and I ascended from a plain country up the vale of Langdale, and struck off a good way above the chapel to the western side of the vale." They start from Grasmere, cross over to Langdale by Red Bank and High Close, and walk up the lower part of the valley of Great Langdale, past Elter Water and Chapel Stile.--ED.]
[Footnote BK: At Chapel Stile the villagers of Langdale are seen at their annual Fair. Dorothy Wordsworth thus alludes to one of these rural Fairs in her Grasmere Journal: "Tuesday, September 2nd, 1800.--We walked to the Fair. There seemed very few people and very few stalls, yet I believe there were many cakes and much beer sold.... It was a lovely moonlight night.... The moonlight shone only upon the village. It did not eclipse the village lights, and the sound of dancing and merriment came along the still air. I walked with Coleridge and Wm. up the lane and by the church, and then lingered with Coleridge in the garden...." See also the account of the "village merry-night," in _The Waggoner_, canto ii. ll. 307-443 (vol. iii. p. 89.)--ED.]
[Footnote BL: Lingmoor.--ED.]
[Footnote BM: At Blea Tarn, where the Solitary lived.--ED.]
[Footnote BN: "Not long after we took up our abode at Grasmere, came to reside there, from what motive I either never knew or have forgotten, a Scotchman, a little past the middle of life, who had for many years been chaplain to a Highland regiment. He was in no respect, as far as I know, an interesting character, though in his appearance there was a good deal that attracted attention, as if he had been shattered in fortune, and not happy in mind. Of his quondam position I availed myself to connect with the Wanderer, also a Scotchman, a character suitable to my purpose, the elements of which I drew from several persons with whom I had been connected, and who fell under my observation during frequent residences in London at the beginning of the French Revolution."--I. F.]
[Footnote BO: Compare _The Prelude_, books ix., x., and xi., _passim_.--ED.]
[Footnote BP: I have not been able to trace this quotation.
Moving about in worlds not realised
occurs in the _Ode, Intimations of Immortality_.--ED.]
[Footnote BQ: Langdale.--ED.]
[Footnote BR: The flank of Lingmoor.--ED.]
[Footnote BS: The flat heathery summit of Lingmoor. Note the text of 1814.--ED.]