book iii. l. 947 (vol. v. p. 140), and the note [dagger] in that page,

with the appendix note C, p. 393.--ED.

[510] Compare the two last lines of the poem _To a Skylark_, 1825--

Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!--ED.

[511] Compare in Shelley's _Ode to the Skylark_, stanza ii.--

And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.--ED.

[512] This stanza was included in the _Morning Exercise_, for the first time, in 1845. It had been previously the second stanza of the poem _To a Skylark_, composed in 1825, and first published in 1827.--ED.

[513] 1836.

The harmony that thou best lovest to make 1832.

[514] 1836.

... his blank domain! 1832.

[515] The muse who presided over astronomy.--ED.

[516] Compare, in Addison's hymn in _The Spectator_, No. 465 (August 23), stanza iii. l. 7--

For ever singing as they shine.--ED.

THE TRIAD[517]

Composed 1828.--Published 1829 (in _The Keepsake_)

[Written at Rydal Mount. The girls, Edith Southey, my daughter Dora, and Sara Coleridge.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of the Imagination."--ED.

Show me the noblest Youth of present time, Whose trembling fancy would to love give birth; Some God or Hero, from the Olympian clime Returned, to seek a Consort upon earth; Or, in no doubtful prospect, let me see 5 The brightest star of ages yet to be, And I will mate and match him blissfully.

I will not fetch a Naiad from a flood Pure as herself--(song lacks not mightier power) Nor leaf-crowned Dryad from a pathless wood, 10 Nor Sea-nymph glistening from her coral bower; Mere Mortals bodied forth in vision still, Shall with Mount Ida's triple lustre fill[518] The chaster coverts of a British hill.

"Appear!--obey my lyre's command! 15 Come, like the Graces, hand in hand![519] For ye, though not by birth allied, Are Sisters in the bond of love; Nor shall the tongue of envious pride Presume those interweavings to reprove 20 In you, which that fair progeny of Jove, Learned[520] from the tuneful spheres that glide In endless union, earth and sea above." --I sing[521] in vain;--the pines have hushed their waving: A peerless Youth expectant at my side, 25 Breathless as they, with unabated craving Looks to the earth, and to the vacant air; And, with a wandering eye that seems to chide, Asks of the clouds what occupants they hide:-- But why solicit more than sight could bear, 30 By casting on a moment all we dare? Invoke we those bright Beings one by one; And what was boldly promised, truly shall be done.

"Fear not a constraining measure! --Yielding to this gentle spell,[522] 35 Lucida![523] from domes of pleasure, Or from cottage-sprinkled dell, Come to regions solitary, Where the eagle builds her aery, Above the hermit's long-forsaken cell!" 40 --She comes!--behold That Figure, like a ship with snow-white sail![524] Nearer she draws; a breeze uplifts her veil; Upon her coming wait As pure a sunshine and as soft a gale 45 As e'er, on herbage covering earthly mold, Tempted the bird of Juno[525] to unfold His richest splendour--when his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain 50 Of music, audible to him alone.

"O Lady, worthy of earth's proudest throne! Nor less, by excellence of nature, fit Beside an unambitious hearth to sit Domestic queen, where grandeur is unknown; 55 What living man could fear The worst of Fortune's malice, wert Thou near, Humbling that lily-stem, thy sceptre meek, That its fair flowers may from his cheek Brush the too happy tear?[526] 60 ---- Queen, and handmaid lowly! Whose skill can speed the day with lively cares, And banish melancholy By all that mind invents or hand prepares; O Thou, against whose lip, without its smile 65 And in its silence even, no heart is proof; Whose goodness, sinking deep, would reconcile The softest Nursling of a gorgeous palace To the bare life beneath the hawthorn-roof Of Sherwood's Archer,[527] or in caves of Wallace-- Who that hath seen thy beauty could content 71 His soul with but a _glimpse_ of heavenly day? Who that hath loved thee, but would lay His strong hand on the wind, if it were bent To take thee in thy majesty away? 75 --Pass onward (even the glancing deer Till we depart intrude not here;) That mossy slope, o'er which the woodbine throws A canopy, is smoothed for thy repose!"

Glad moment is it[528] when the throng 80 Of warblers in full concert strong Strive, and not vainly strive, to rout The lagging shower, and force coy Phoebus out, Met by the rainbow's form divine, Issuing from her cloudy shrine;-- 85 So may the thrillings of the lyre Prevail to further our desire, While to these shades a sister Nymph I call.

"Come, if the notes thine ear may pierce, Come, youngest of the lovely Three,[529] 90 Submissive to the might of verse And the dear voice of harmony, By none[530] more deeply felt than Thee!" --I sang; and lo! from pastimes virginal She hastens to the tents 95 Of nature, and the lonely elements. Air sparkles round her with a dazzling sheen; But[531] mark her glowing cheek, her vesture green! And, as if wishful to disarm Or to repay the potent Charm, 100 She bears the stringèd lute of old romance, That cheered the trellised arbour's privacy, And soothed war-wearied knights in raftered hall. How vivid, yet[532] how delicate, her glee! So tripped the Muse, inventress of the dance; 105 So, truant in waste woods, the blithe Euphrosyne![533]

But the ringlets of that head Why are they ungarlanded? Why bedeck her temples less Than the simplest shepherdess? 110 Is it not a brow inviting Choicest flowers[534] that ever breathed, Which the myrtle would delight in With Idalian rose enwreathed? But her humility is well content 115 With _one_ wild floweret (call it not forlorn) FLOWER OF THE WINDS,[535] beneath her bosom worn-- Yet[536] more for love than ornament.

Open, ye thickets! let her fly, Swift as a Thracian Nymph o'er field and height! 120 For She, to all but those who love her, shy, Would gladly vanish from a Stranger's sight; Though where she is beloved and loves, Light as the wheeling butterfly she moves; Her happy spirit as a bird is free, 125 That rifles blossoms on a tree,[537] Turning them inside out with arch audacity. Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays; 130 A face o'er which a thousand shadows go! --She stops--is fastened to that rivulet's side; And there (while, with sedater mien, O'er timid waters that have scarcely left Their birth-place in the rocky cleft 135 She bends) at leisure may be seen Features to old ideal grace allied,[538] Amid their smiles and dimples dignified-- Fit countenance for the soul of primal truth; The bland composure of eternal youth! 140

What more changeful than the sea? But over his great tides Fidelity presides; And this light-hearted Maiden constant is as he. High is her aim as heaven above, 145 And wide as ether her good-will; And, like the lowly reed, her love Can drink its nurture from the scantiest rill: Insight as keen as frosty star Is to _her_ charity no bar, 150 Nor interrupts her frolic graces When she is, far from these wild places, Encircled by familiar faces.

O the charm that manners draw, Nature, from thy genuine law![539] 155 If from what her hand would do, Her voice would utter, aught ensue Untoward[540] or unfit; She, in benign affections pure, In self-forgetfulness secure, 160 Sheds round the transient harm or vague mischance A light unknown to tutored elegance:[541] Her's is not a cheek shame-stricken, But her blushes are joy-flushes; And the fault (if fault it be) 165 Only ministers to quicken Laughter-loving gaiety, And kindle sportive wit--- Leaving this Daughter of the mountains free[542] As if she knew that Oberon king of Faery[543] 170 Had crossed her purpose with some quaint vagary, And heard his viewless bands Over their mirthful triumph clapping hands.

"Last of the Three, though eldest born,[544] Reveal thyself, like pensive Morn 175 Touched by the skylark's earliest note, Ere humbler gladness be afloat. But whether in the semblance drest Of Dawn--or Eve, fair vision of the west, Come with each anxious hope subdued 180 By woman's gentle fortitude, Each grief, through meekness, settling into rest. --Or I would hail thee when some high-wrought page Of a closed volume lingering in thy hand Has raised thy spirit to a peaceful stand 185 Among the glories of a happier age."

Her brow hath opened on me--see it there, Brightening the umbrage of her hair; So gleams the crescent moon, that loves To be descried through shady groves. 190 Tenderest bloom is on her cheek; Wish not for a richer streak; Nor dread the depth of meditative eye; But let thy love, upon that azure field Of thoughtfulness and beauty, yield 195 Its homage offered up in purity. What would'st thou more? In sunny glade, Or under leaves of thickest shade, Was such a stillness e'er diffused Since earth grew calm while angels mused? 200 Softly she treads, as if her foot were loth To crush the mountain dew-drops--soon to melt On the flower's breast; as if she felt That flowers themselves, whate'er their hue, With all their fragrance, all their glistening, 205 Call to the heart for inward listening-- And though for bridal wreaths and tokens true Welcomed wisely; though a growth Which the careless shepherd sleeps on, As fitly spring from turf the mourner weeps on-- And without wrong are cropped the marble tomb to strew. 211 The Charm is over;[545] the mute Phantoms gone, Nor will return--but droop not, favoured Youth; The apparition that before thee shone Obeyed a summons covetous of truth. 215 From these wild rocks thy footsteps I will guide To bowers in which thy fortune may be tried, And one of the bright Three become thy happy Bride.

The Triad was first published in _The Keepsake_, in 1829, and next in the 1832 edition of the Poems. See the criticism passed upon it by one of the three described, viz., Sara Coleridge, in her _Memoirs_, vol. ii. pp. 409-10. Of this poem Mr. Aubrey de Vere writes, "perhaps the most _accomplished_ of Wordsworth's works, and the most unlike his earlier manner."--ED.

FOOTNOTES:

[517] This poem is called _The Promise_, in a letter written upon its publication in _The Keepsake_.--ED.

[518] The Phrygian Ida was a many-branched range of mountains; two subordinate ranges, parting from the principal summit, enclosed Troy as with a crescent. The Cretan Ida terminated in three snowy peaks. There may be a reference to Skiddaw's triple summit in the "British hill."--ED.

[519] The Charites--Aglaia, Thalia, and Euphrosyne--were usually represented with hands joined, as a token of graciousness and friendship.--ED.

[520] 1836.

And not the boldest tongue of envious pride In you those interweavings could reprove Which They, the progeny of Jove, Learnt ... 1829.

[521] 1836.

--I speak ... 1829.

[522] 1836.

... this constraining measure! Drawn by a poetic spell, 1829.

[523] Edith Southey.--ED.

[524] 1845.

... with silver sail! 1832.

[525] The peacock.--ED.

[526] 1845.

... may brush from off his cheek The too, too happy tear! 1832.

[527] Robin Hood.--ED.

[528] The following version of ll. 80-101, is given in a MS. letter:--

Like notes of birds that after showers In April concert try their powers, And with a tumult and a rout Of warbling, force coy Phoebus out; Or bid some dark cloud's bosom show That form divine, the many-coloured Bow. E'en so the thrillings of the Lyre Prevail to further our desire, While to these shades a Nymph I call. The youngest of the lovely three; With glowing cheeks from pastimes virginal Behold her hastening to the tents Of Nature, and the lonely elements! And as if wishful to disarm Or to repay the tuneful charm She bears the stringed lute of old Romance,--ED.

[529] Dora Wordsworth.--ED.

[530] 1836.

... a Nymph I call, The youngest of the lovely Three.-- "Come, if the notes thine ear may pierce, Submissive to the might of verse, By none ... 1820.

[531] 1836.

And ... 1829.

[532] 1836.

How light her air!... 1829.

[533] Compare _L'Allegro_, ll. 11-13--

Thou Goddess fair and free In heaven yclept Euphrosyne, And by men heart-easing Mirth.--ED.

[534] 1832.

Choicest flower ... 1829.

[535] The wild anemone.--ED.

[536] 1836.

Yet is it ... 1829.

[537] 1836.

Though where she is beloved and loves, as free As bird that rifles blossoms on a tree, 1829.

[538] According to Sara Coleridge this was an allusion to a likeness supposed to have been found in the poet's daughter's countenance to the Memnon Head in the British Museum. See Sara Coleridge's _Memoirs_, vol. ii. p. 410.--ED.

[539] 1840.

... the genuine law. 1836.

[540] 1845.

... there ensue Aught untoward ... 1832.

[541] 1832.

Nature, from thy perfect law! Through benign affections pure In the light of self secure, If from what her hand would do Or tongue utter, there ensue Aught untoward or unfit, Transient mischief, vague mischance Shunned by guarded elegance. 1829.

[542] 1829.

Only minister to quicken Sallies of instinctive wit; Unchecked in laughter-loving gaiety In all the motions of her spirit free. MS.

[543] 1832.

... that Oberon the fairy 1829.

[544] Sara Coleridge.--ED.

[545] Compare in _The Wishing-Gate Destroyed_, stanza 4--

... the charm is fled.--ED.

THE WISHING-GATE

Composed 1828.--Published 1829

[Written at Rydal Mount. See also _Wishing-gate Destroyed_.--I. F.]

In the vale of Grasmere, by the side of the old high-way leading to Ambleside, is a gate, which, time out of mind, has been called the Wishing-gate, from a belief that wishes formed or indulged there have a favourable issue.--W. W. 1828.[546]

One of the "Poems of the Imagination."--ED.

Hope rules a land for ever green: All powers that serve the bright-eyed Queen Are confident and gay; Clouds at her bidding disappear; Points she to aught?--the bliss draws near, 5 And Fancy smooths the way.

Not such the land of Wishes--there Dwell fruitless day-dreams, lawless prayer, And thoughts with things at strife; Yet how forlorn, should _ye_ depart, 10 Ye superstitions of the _heart_, How poor, were human life!

When magic lore abjured its might, Ye did not forfeit one dear right, One tender claim abate; 15 Witness this symbol of your sway, Surviving near the public way, The rustic Wishing-gate!

Inquire not if the faery race Shed kindly influence on the place, 20 Ere northward they retired; If here a warrior left a spell, Panting for glory as he fell; Or here a saint expired.

Enough that all around is fair, 25 Composed with Nature's finest care, And in her fondest love-- Peace to embosom and content-- To overawe the turbulent, The selfish to reprove. 30

Yea![547] even the Stranger from afar, Reclining on this moss-grown bar, Unknowing, and unknown, The infection of the ground partakes, Longing for his Belov'd--who makes 35 All happiness her own.

Then why should conscious Spirits fear The mystic stirrings that are here, The ancient faith disclaim? The local Genius ne'er befriends 40 Desires whose course in folly ends, Whose just reward is shame.

Smile if thou wilt, but not in scorn, If some, by ceaseless pains outworn, Here crave an easier lot; 45 If some have thirsted to renew A broken vow, or bind a true, With firmer, holier knot.

And not in vain, when thoughts are cast Upon the irrevocable past, 50 Some Penitent sincere May for a worthier future sigh, While trickles from his downcast eye No unavailing tear.

The Worldling, pining to be freed 55 From turmoil, who would turn or speed The current of his fate, Might stop before this favoured scene, At Nature's call, nor blush to lean Upon the Wishing-gate. 60

The Sage, who feels how blind, how weak Is man, though loth such help to _seek_, Yet, passing, here might pause, And thirst[548] for insight to allay Misgiving, while the crimson day 65 In quietness withdraws;

Or when the church-clock's knell profound[549] To Time's first step across the bound Of midnight makes reply; Time pressing on with starry crest, 70 To filial sleep upon the breast Of dread eternity.

_The Wishing-gate_ was first published in _The Keepsake_ in 1829, and next in the 1832 edition of the Poems.--ED.

FOOTNOTES:

[546] Having been told, upon what I thought good authority, that this gate had been destroyed, and the opening where it hung walled up, I gave vent immediately to my feelings in these stanzas. But going to the place some time after, I found, with much delight, my old favourite unmolested.--W. W. 1832.

"The same triumphant power attributed to the Wishing-gate is fancifully attributed to an image of St. Bridget in the ruined Franciscan convent at Adare." (Mr. Aubrey de Vere.)

[547] 1832.

Yes! even ... 1829.

[548] 1836.

And yearn ... 1829.

[549] Grasmere Church.--ED.

THE WISHING-GATE DESTROYED

Composed 1828.--Published 1842

One of the "Poems of the Imagination."--ED.

'Tis gone--with old belief and dream That round it clung, and tempting scheme Released from fear and doubt; And the bright landscape too must lie, By this blank wall, from every eye, 5 Relentlessly shut out.

Bear witness ye who seldom passed That opening--but a look ye cast Upon the lake below, What spirit-stirring power it gained 10 From faith which here was entertained, Though reason might say no.

Blest is that ground, where, o'er the springs Of history, Glory claps her wings, Fame sheds the exulting tear; 15 Yet earth is wide, and many a nook Unheard of is, like this, a book For modest meanings dear.

It was in sooth a happy thought That grafted, on so fair a spot, 20 So confident a token Of coming good;--the charm is fled; Indulgent centuries spun a thread, Which one harsh day has broken.

Alas! for him who gave the word; 25 Could he no sympathy afford, Derived from earth or heaven, To hearts so oft by hope betrayed; Their very wishes wanted aid Which here was freely given? 30

Where, for the love-lorn maiden's wound, Will now so readily be found A balm of expectation? Anxious for far-off children, where Shall mothers breathe a like sweet air 35 Of home-felt consolation? And not unfelt will prove the loss 'Mid trivial care and petty cross And each day's shallow grief; Though the most easily beguiled 40 Were oft among the first that smiled At their own fond belief.

If still the reckless change we mourn, A reconciling thought may turn To harm that might lurk here, 45 Ere judgment prompted from within Fit aims, with courage to begin, And strength to persevere.

Not Fortune's slave is Man: our state Enjoins, while firm resolves await 50 On wishes just and wise, That strenuous action follow both, And life be one perpetual growth Of heaven-ward enterprise.

So taught, so trained, we boldly face 55 All accidents of time and place; Whatever props may fail, Trust in that sovereign law can spread New glory o'er the mountain's head, Fresh beauty through the vale. 60

That truth informing mind and heart, The simplest cottager may part, Ungrieved, with charm and spell; And yet, lost Wishing-gate, to thee The voice of grateful memory 65 Shall bid a kind farewell!

Agate--though not the "moss-grown bar" of 1828--still stands at the old place, where Wordsworth tells us one had stood "time out of mind;" so that a "blank wall" does not now shut out the "bright landscape," at the old, and classic, spot. Long may this gate stand, defying wind and weather!--ED.

A JEWISH FAMILY

(IN A SMALL VALLEY OPPOSITE ST. GOAR, UPON THE RHINE)

Composed 1828.--Published 1835

[Coleridge, my daughter, and I, in 1828, passed a fortnight upon the banks of the Rhine, principally under the hospitable roof of Mr. Aders of Gotesburg, but two days of the time we spent at St. Goar in rambles among the neighbouring valleys. It was at St. Goar that I saw the Jewish family here described. Though exceedingly poor, and in rags, they were not less beautiful than I have endeavoured to make them appear. We had taken a little dinner with us in a basket, and invited them to partake of it, which the mother refused to do, both for herself and children, saying it was with them a fast-day; adding, diffidently, that whether such observances were right or wrong, she felt it her duty to keep them strictly. The Jews, who are numerous on this part of the Rhine, greatly surpass the German peasantry in the beauty of their features and in the intelligence of their countenances. But the lower classes of the German peasantry have, here at least, the air of people grievously opprest. Nursing mothers, at the age of seven or eight-and-twenty, often look haggard and far more decayed and withered than women of Cumberland and Westmoreland twice their age. This comes from being under-fed and over-worked in their vineyards in a hot and glaring sun.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of the Imagination."--ED.

Genius of Raphael! if thy wings Might bear thee to this glen, With faithful memory left of things[550] To pencil dear and pen, Thou would'st forego the neighbouring Rhine, 5 And all his majesty-- A studious forehead to incline O'er[551] this poor family.

The Mother--her thou must have seen, In spirit, ere she came 10 To dwell these rifted rocks between, Or found on earth a name; An image, too, of that sweet Boy,[552] Thy inspirations give-- Of playfulness,[553] and love, and joy, 15 Predestined here to live.

Downcast, or shooting glances far, How beautiful his eyes, That blend the nature of the star With that of summer skies! 20 I speak as if of sense beguiled; Uncounted months are gone, Yet am I with the Jewish Child, That exquisite Saint John.

I see the dark-brown curls, the brow, 25 The smooth transparent skin, Refined, as with intent to show The holiness within;[554] The grace of parting Infancy By blushes yet untamed; 30 Age faithful to the mother's knee, Nor of her arms ashamed.

Two lovely Sisters, still and sweet As flowers, stand side by side; Their soul-subduing looks[555] might cheat 35 The Christian of his pride: Such beauty hath the Eternal poured Upon them not forlorn,[556] Though of a lineage once abhorred, Nor yet redeemed from scorn. 40

Mysterious safeguard, that, in spite Of poverty and wrong, Doth here preserve a living light, From Hebrew fountains sprung; That gives this ragged group to cast 45 Around the dell a gleam Of Palestine, of glory past, And proud Jerusalem!

The title given to this poem by Dorothy Wordsworth, in the letter to Lady Beaumont in which the different MS. readings occur, is "A Jewish Family, met with in a Dingle near the Rhine." During the Continental Tour of 1820,--in which Wordsworth was accompanied by his wife and sister and other friends,--they went up the Rhine (see the notes to the poems recording that Tour). An extract from Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal, referring to the road from St. Goar to Bingen, may illustrate this poem, written in 1828. "From St. Goar to Bingen, castles commanding innumerable small fortified villages. Nothing could exceed the delightful variety, and at first the postilions whisked us too fast through these scenes; and afterwards, the same variety so often repeated, we became quite exhausted, at least D. and I were; and, beautiful as the road continued to be, we could scarcely keep our eyes open; but, on my being roused from one of these slumbers, no eye wide-awake ever beheld such celestial pictures as gleamed before mine, like visions belonging to dreams. The castles seemed now almost _stationary_, a continued succession always in sight, rarely without two or three before us at once. There they rose from the craggy cliffs, out of the centre of the stately river, from a green island, or a craggy rock, etc., etc."

In Dorothy Wordsworth's record of the same Tour, the following occurs:--"July 24.--We looked down into one of the vales tributary to the Rhine, which, in memory of the mountain recesses of Ullswater, I named Deep-dale, a green quiet place, spotted with villages and single houses, and enlivened by a sinuous brook." ... "A lovely dell runs behind one of these hills. At its opening, where it pours out its stream into the Rhine, we espied a one-arched Borrowdale bridge; and, behind the bridge, a village almost buried between the abruptly rising steeps."--ED.

FOOTNOTES:

[550] 1835.

With memory left of shapes and things

MS. written by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[551] 1835.

On ...

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[552] 1835.

... this sweet Boy,

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[553] 1835.

In playfulness, ...

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[554] Compare _The Russian Fugitive_, ll. 1-4.--ED.

[555] 1835.

Fair Creatures, in this lone retreat By happy chance espied, Your soul-subduing looks ...

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[556] 1835.

Upon you--not forlorn,

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

INCIDENT AT BRUGÈS

Composed 1828.--Published 1835

[This occurred at Brugès in 1828. Mr. Coleridge, my daughter, and I made a tour together in Flanders, upon the Rhine, and returned by Holland. Dora and I, while taking a walk along a retired part of the town, heard the voice as here described, and were afterwards informed it was a convent in which were many English. We were both much touched, I might say affected, and Dora moved as appears in the verses.--I. F.]

One of the "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent."--ED.

In Brugès town is many a street Whence busy life hath fled;[557] Where, without hurry, noiseless feet, The grass-grown pavement tread. There heard we, halting in the shade 5 Flung from a Convent-tower, A harp that tuneful prelude made To a voice of thrilling power.[558]

The measure, simple truth to tell, Was fit for some gay throng; 10 Though from the same grim turret fell The shadow and the song. When silent were both voice and chords, The strain seemed doubly dear, Yet sad as sweet,--for _English_ words 15 Had fallen upon the ear.[559]

It was a breezy hour of eve; And[560] pinnacle and spire Quivered and seemed almost to heave, Clothed with innocuous fire; 20 But, where we stood, the setting sun Showed little of his state; And, if the glory reached the Nun, 'Twas through an iron grate.[561]

Not always is the heart unwise,[562] 25 Nor pity idly born, If even[563] a passing Stranger sighs For them who do not mourn. Sad is thy doom, self-solaced dove, Captive, whoe'er thou be![564] 30 Oh! what is beauty, what is love, And opening life to thee?

Such feeling pressed upon my soul, A feeling sanctified By one soft trickling tear that stole 35 From the Maiden at my side; Less tribute could she pay than this, Borne gaily o'er the sea, Fresh from the beauty and the bliss Of English liberty? 40

In the final arrangement of the poems, this one was published amongst the _Memorials of a Tour on the Continent_ (1820), where it followed the two sonnets on Brugès. The poems suggested by the shorter Tour of 1828 are here published together, in their chronological order.

In an undated letter of Dorothy Wordsworth's to Lady Beaumont, before copying out this poem and _A Jewish Family_, she says, "The two following poems were taken from incidents recorded in Dora's journal of her tour with her father and S. T. Coleridge. As I well recollect, she has related the incidents very pleasingly, and I hope you will agree with me in thinking that the poet has made good use of them."--ED.

FOOTNOTES:

[557] 1835.

... is fled,

MS. written by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[558] 1835.

To a voice like bird in bower.

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

... birds ...

MS. by Mrs. Wordsworth.

[559] 1835.

Like them who _think_ they hear, We listened still; for _English_ words Had dropped upon the ear.

MS. by Mrs. Wordsworth.

The strain seemed doubly dear, Yea passing sweet--for English words Had dropt upon the ear.

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[560] 1835.

When ...

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[561] Compare the Sonnet--

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun.--ED.

[562] 1835.

The restless heart is not unwise,

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[563] 1835.

When even ...

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[564] 1835.

Sad is thy doom, imprisoned dove, Whoe'er thou mayest be.

MS. by Dorothy Wordsworth.

A GRAVE-STONE UPON THE FLOOR IN THE CLOISTERS OF WORCESTER CATHEDRAL

Composed 1828.[565]--Published 1829 (in _The Keepsake_)

["Miserrimus." Many conjectures have been formed as to the person who lies under this stone. Nothing appears to be known for a certainty. Query--The Rev. Mr. Morris, a non-conformist, a sufferer for conscience-sake; a worthy man who, having been deprived of his benefice after the accession of William III., lived to an old age in extreme destitution, on the alms of charitable Jacobites.--I.F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

"_Miserrimus!_" and neither name nor date, Prayer, text, or symbol, graven upon the stone;[566] Nought but that word assigned to the unknown, That solitary word--to separate From all, and cast a cloud around the fate 5 Of him who lies beneath. Most wretched one, _Who_ chose his epitaph?--Himself alone Could thus have dared the grave to agitate, And claim, among the dead, this awful crown; Nor doubt that He marked also for his own 10 Close to these cloistral steps a burial-place, That every foot might fall with heavier tread, Trampling upon his vileness. Stranger, pass Softly!--To save the contrite, Jesus bled.

FOOTNOTES:

[565] This, and the following sonnet on the tradition of Oker Hill, first published in _The Keepsake_ of 1829, appeared in the 1832 edition of the Poetical Works.--ED.

[566] The stone is in the cloisters of Worcester Cathedral, at the north-west corner of the quadrangle, just below the doorway leading into the nave of the cathedral. It is a small stone, two feet, by one and a half. The Reverend Thomas Maurice (or Morris)--a minor canon of Worcester, and vicar of Clains--refused to take the oath of allegiance at the Revolution Settlement, and was accordingly deprived of his benefice. He lived to the age of 88, on the generosity of the richer non-jurors, and died 1748. (See Murray's _Guide to Warwickshire_, and Richard King's _Handbook to the Cathedral of Worcester_.)--ED.

THE GLEANER

(SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE)

Composed 1828.--Published 1829

[This poem was first printed in the annual called _The Keepsake_. The painter's name I am not sure of, but I think it was Holmes.[567]--I.F.]

In 1832 one of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection." Transferred in 1845 to "Miscellaneous Poems."--ED.

That happy gleam of vernal eyes, Those locks from summer's golden skies, That o'er thy brow are shed; That cheek--a kindling of the morn, That lip--a rose-bud from the thorn, 5 I saw; and Fancy sped To scenes Arcadian, whispering, through soft air, Of bliss that grows without a care, And[568] happiness that never flies-- (How can it where love never dies?) 10 Whispering of promise,[569] where no blight Can reach the innocent delight; Where pity, to the mind conveyed In pleasure, is the darkest shade That Time, unwrinkled grandsire, flings 15 From his smoothly gliding wings.

What mortal form, what earthly face Inspired the pencil, lines to trace, And mingle colours, that should breed Such rapture, nor want power to feed; 20 For had thy charge been idle flowers, Fair Damsel! o'er my captive mind, To truth and sober reason blind, 'Mid that soft air, those long-lost bowers, The sweet illusion might have hung, for hours. 25

Thanks to this tell-tale sheaf of corn, That touchingly bespeaks thee born Life's daily tasks with them to share Who, whether from their lowly bed They rise, or rest the weary head, 30 Ponder the blessing[570] they entreat From Heaven, and _feel_ what they repeat, While they give utterance to the prayer That asks for daily bread.

The year of the publication of this poem in _The Keepsake_ was 1829. It then appeared under the title of _The Country Girl_, and it was afterwards included in the 1832 edition of the poems.--ED.

FOOTNOTES:

[567] The painter was J. Holmes, and his picture was engraved by C. Heath.--ED.

[568] 1837.

Of ... 1829.

[569] 1837.

Of promise whispering, ... 1832.

[570] 1832.

Do _weigh_ the blessing ... 1829.

ON[571] THE POWER OF SOUND

Composed December 1828.--Published 1835

[Written at Rydal Mount. I have often regretted that my tour in Ireland, chiefly performed in the short days of October in a carriage-and-four (I was with Mr. Marshall), supplied my memory with so few images that were new, and with so little motive to write. The lines however in this poem, "Thou too be heard, lone eagle!" were suggested near the Giants' Causeway, or rather at the promontory of Fairhead, where a pair of eagles wheeled above our heads and darted off as if to hide themselves in a blaze of sky made by the setting sun.--I.F.]

One of the "Poems of the Imagination."-ED.

ARGUMENT

_The Ear addressed, as occupied by a spiritual functionary, in communion with sounds, individual, or combined in studied harmony.--Sources and effects of those sounds (to the close of 6th Stanza).--The power of music, whence proceeding, exemplified in the idiot.--Origin of music, and its effect in early ages--how produced (to the middle of 10th Stanza).--The mind recalled to sounds acting casually and severally.--Wish uttered (11th Stanza) that these could be united into a scheme or system for moral interests and intellectual_ _contemplation.--(Stanza 12th.) The Pythagorean theory_ _of numbers and music, with their supposed power over the_ _motions of the universe--imaginations consonant with such_ _a theory.--Wish expressed (in 11th Stanza) realised, in_ _some degree, by the representation of all sounds under the form of thanksgiving to the Creator.--(Last Stanza) the destruction of earth and the planetary system--the survival of audible harmony, and its support in the Divine Nature, as revealed in Holy Writ._

I

Thy functions are ethereal, As if within thee dwelt a glancing mind, Organ of vision! And a Spirit aërial Informs the cell of Hearing, dark and blind; Intricate labyrinth, more dread for thought 5 To enter than oracular cave; Strict passage, through which sighs are brought, And whispers for the heart, their slave; And shrieks, that revel in abuse Of shivering flesh; and warbled air, 10 Whose piercing sweetness can unloose The chains of frenzy, or entice a smile Into the ambush of despair; Hosannas pealing down the long-drawn aisle,[572] And requiems answered by the pulse that beats 15 Devoutly, in life's last retreats!

II

The headlong streams and fountains Serve Thee, invisible Spirit, with untired powers; Cheering the wakeful tent on Syrian mountains, They lull perchance ten thousand thousand flowers. 20 _That_ roar, the prowling lion's _Here I am_, How fearful to the desert wide! That bleat, how tender! of the dam Calling a straggler to her side. Shout, cuckoo!--let the vernal soul 25 Go with thee to the frozen zone; Toll from thy loftiest perch, lone bell-bird, toll! At the still hour to Mercy dear, Mercy from her twilight throne Listening to nun's faint throb of holy fear, 30 To sailor's prayer breathed from a darkening sea, Or widow's cottage-lullaby.

III

Ye Voices, and ye Shadows And Images of voice--to hound and horn From rocky steep and rock-bestudded meadows 35 Flung back, and, in the sky's blue caves, reborn-- On with your pastime! till the church-tower bells A greeting give of measured glee; And milder echoes from their cells Repeat the bridal symphony. 40 Then, or far earlier, let us rove Where mists are breaking up or gone, And from aloft look down into a cove Besprinkled with a careless quire, Happy milk-maids, one by one 45 Scattering a ditty each to her desire, A liquid concert matchless by nice Art, A stream as if from one full heart.

IV

Blest be the song that brightens The blind man's gloom, exalts the veteran's mirth; 50 Unscorned the peasant's whistling breath, that lightens His duteous toil of furrowing the green earth. For the tired slave, Song lifts the languid oar, And bids it aptly fall, with chime That beautifies the fairest shore, 55 And mitigates the harshest clime. Yon pilgrims see--in lagging file They move; but soon the appointed way A choral _Ave Marie_ shall beguile, And to their hope the distant shrine 60 Glisten with a livelier ray: Nor friendless he, the prisoner of the mine, Who from the well-spring of his own clear breast Can draw, and sing his griefs to rest.

V

When civic renovation 65 Dawns on a kingdom, and for needful haste Best eloquence avails not, Inspiration Mounts with a tune, that travels like a blast Piping through cave and battlemented tower; Then starts the sluggard, pleased to meet 70 That voice of Freedom, in its power Of promises, shrill, wild, and sweet! Who, from a martial _pageant_, spreads Incitements of a battle-day, 74 Thrilling the unweaponed crowd with plumeless heads?-- Even She whose Lydian airs inspire[573] Peaceful striving, gentle play Of timid hope and innocent desire Shot from the dancing Graces, as they move Fanned by the plausive wings of Love. 80

VI

How oft along thy mazes, Regent of sound, have dangerous Passions trod! O Thou, through whom the temple rings with praises, And blackening clouds in thunder speak of God, Betray not by the cozenage of sense[574] 85 Thy votaries, wooingly resigned To a voluptuous influence That taints the purer, better, mind; But lead sick Fancy to a harp That hath in noble tasks been tried; 90 And, if the virtuous feel a pang too sharp, Soothe it into patience,--stay The uplifted arm of Suicide; And let some mood of thine in firm array Knit every thought the impending issue needs, 95 Ere martyr burns, or patriot bleeds!

VII

As Conscience, to the centre Of being, smites with irresistible pain So shall a solemn cadence, if it enter The mouldy vaults of the dull idiot's brain, 100 Transmute him to a wretch from quiet hurled-- Convulsed as by a jarring din; And then aghast, as at the world Of reason partially let in By concords winding with a sway 105 Terrible for sense and soul! Or, awed he weeps, struggling to quell dismay. Point not these mysteries to an Art Lodged above the starry pole; Pure modulations flowing from the heart 110 Of divine Love, where Wisdom, Beauty, Truth With Order dwell, in endless youth?

VIII

Oblivion may not cover All treasures hoarded by the miser, Time. Orphean Insight! truth's undaunted lover, 115 To the first leagues of tutored passion climb, When Music deigned within this grosser sphere Her subtle essence to enfold, And voice and shell drew forth a tear Softer than Nature's self could mould. 120 Yet _strenuous_ was the infant Age: Art, daring because souls could feel, Stirred nowhere but an urgent equipage Of rapt imagination sped her march Through the realms of woe and weal: 125 Hell to the lyre bowed low; the upper arch Rejoiced that clamorous spell and magic verse Her wan disasters could disperse.[575]

IX

The GIFT to king Amphion That walled a city with its melody 130 Was for belief no dream:[576]--thy skill, Arion! Could humanise the creatures of the sea, Where men were monsters.[577] A last grace he craves, Leave for one chant;--the dulcet sound Steals from the deck o'er willing waves, 135 And listening dolphins gather round.[578] Self-cast, as with a desperate course, 'Mid that strange audience, he bestrides A proud One docile as a managed horse; And singing, while the accordant hand 140 Sweeps his harp, the Master rides; So shall he touch at length a friendly strand, And he, with his preserver, shine star-bright In memory, through silent night.

X

The pipe of Pan, to shepherds 145 Couched in the shadow of Mænalian pines,[579] Was passing sweet; the eyeballs of the leopards, That in high triumph drew the Lord of vines, How did they sparkle to the cymbal's clang! While Fauns and Satyrs beat the ground 150 In cadence,[580]--and Silenus swang This way and that, with wild-flowers crowned.[581] To life, to _life_ give back thine ear: Ye who are longing to be rid Of fable, though to truth subservient, hear 155 The little sprinkling of cold earth that fell Echoed from the coffin-lid; The convict's summons in the steeple's knell; "The vain distress-gun,"[582] from a leeward shore, Repeated-heard, and heard no more! 160

XI

For terror, joy, or pity, Vast is the compass and the swell of notes: From the babe's first cry to voice of regal city, Rolling a solemn sea-like bass, that floats Far as the woodlands--with the trill to blend 165 Of that shy songstress,[583] whose love-tale Might tempt an angel to descend, While hovering o'er the moonlight vale. Ye wandering Utterances,[584] has earth no scheme, No scale of moral music--to unite 170 Powers that survive but in the faintest dream[585] Of memory?-O that ye[586] might stoop to bear Chains, such precious chains of sight As laboured minstrelsies through ages wear! O for a balance fit the truth to tell 175 Of the Unsubstantial, pondered well!

XII

By one pervading spirit Of tones and numbers all things are controlled, As sages taught, where faith was found to merit Initiation in that mystery old.[587][588] 180 The heavens, whose aspect makes our minds as still As they themselves appear to be, Innumerable voices fill With everlasting harmony; The towering headlands, crowned with mist, 185 Their feet among the billows, know That Ocean is a mighty harmonist;[589] Thy pinions, universal Air, Ever waving to and fro, Are delegates of harmony, and bear 190 Strains that support the Seasons in their round; Stern Winter loves a dirge-like sound.

XIII

Break forth into thanksgiving, Ye banded instruments of wind and chords; Unite, to magnify the Ever-living,[590] 195 Your inarticulate notes with the voice of words! Nor hushed be service from the lowing mead, Nor mute the forest hum of noon; Thou too be heard, lone eagle![591] freed From snowy peak and cloud, attune 200 Thy hungry barkings to the hymn Of joy, that from her utmost walls The six-days' Work,[592] by flaming Seraphim Transmits to Heaven! As Deep to Deep Shouting through one valley calls, 205 All worlds, all natures, mood and measure keep For praise and ceaseless gratulation, poured Into the ear of God, their Lord!

XIV

A Voice to Light gave Being;[593] To Time, and Man his earth-born chronicler; 210 A Voice shall finish doubt and dim foreseeing, And sweep away life's visionary stir; The trumpet (we, intoxicate with pride, Arm at its blast for deadly wars) To archangelic lips applied, 215 The grave shall open, quench the stars.[594] O Silence! are Man's noisy years No more than moments of thy life?[595] Is Harmony, blest queen of smiles and tears, With her smooth tones and discords just, 220 Tempered into rapturous strife, Thy destined bond-slave? No! though earth be dust And vanish, though the heavens dissolve, her stay Is in the WORD, that shall not pass away.[596]

FOOTNOTES:

[571] 1836.

STANZAS ON ... 1835.

[572] Compare Gray's _Elegy_, l. 39.--ED.

[573] Compare _L'Allegro_, II. 135-37--

And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse.

ED.

[574] The deception of the senses.--ED.

[575] Orpheus, is search of his lost Eurydice, gained admittance with his lyre to the infernal regions. Pluto was charmed with his music, the wheel of Ixion stopped, the stone of Sisyphus stood still, Tantalus forgot his thirst, and the Furies relented, while Pluto and Proserpine consented to restore Eurydice. The sequel is well known.--ED.

[576] The fable of Amphion moving stones and raising the walls of Thebes by his melody is explained by supposing him gifted with an eloquence and power of persuasion that roused the savage people to rise and build the town of Thebes.--ED.

[577] The story of Arion, lyric poet and musician of Lesbos, was that having gone into Italy, settled there, and grown rich, he wished to revisit his native country, taking some of his fortune with him. The sailors of the ship determined to murder him, and steal his treasure. He asked, as a last favour, that he might play a tune on his lyre. As soon as he began he attracted the creatures of the deep, and leaping into the sea, one of the dolphins carried him, lyre in hand, to the shore.--ED.

[578] Compare _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, act II. scene i. l. 150.--ED.

[579] Mænalus, a mountain in Arcadia, sacred to Pan, covered with pine trees, a favourite haunt of shepherds.--See Virgil, _Eclogues_, viii. 24; _Georgics_, i. 17; Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, i. 216.--ED.

[580] Compare Gray's _Progress of Poesy_, ll. 33-35.--ED.

[581] In his expedition to the East, Bacchus was clothed in a panther's skin. He was accompanied by all the Satyrs, and by Silenus crowned with flowers and almost always intoxicated.--ED.

[582] I have been unable to trace this quotation.--ED.

[583] The nightingale.--ED.

[584] Compare _To the Cuckoo_, vol. ii. p. 289--

A wandering Voice.--ED.

[585] 1836.

O for some soul-affecting scheme Of _moral_ music, to unite Wanderers whose portion is the faintest dream 1835.

[586] 1836

... they ... 1835.

[587] 1835.

There is a world of spirit, By tones and numbers guided and controlled; And glorious privilege have they who merit Initiation in that mystery old.

MS. copy by Dorothy Wordsworth.

[588] The fundamental idea, both in the intellectual and moral philosophy of the Pythagoreans, was that of harmony or proportion. Their natural science or cosmology was dominated by the same idea, that as the world and all spheres within the universe were constructed symmetrically, and moved around a central focus, the forms and the proportions of things were best expressed by number. All good was due to the principle of order; all evil to disorder. In accordance with the mathematical conception of the universe which ruled the Pythagoreans, justice was equality (#isotês#), that is to say it consisted in each one receiving equally according to his deserts. Friendship too was equality of feeling and relationship; harmony being the radical idea, alike in the ethics and in the cosmology of the school.--ED.

[589] Compare Keats, in a letter to his friend Bailey, in 1817: "The great elements we know of are no mean comforters; the open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown; the air is our robe of state; the earth is our throne; and the sea a mighty minstrel playing before it."--ED.

[590] Compare _The Excursion_, book iv. l. 1163 (vol. v. p. 188)--

... choral song, or burst Sublime of instrumental harmony, To glorify the Eternal!--ED.

[591] See the Fenwick note prefixed to this poem.--ED.

[592] Genesis i.--ED.

[593] "And God said, Let there be light, and there was light" (Genesis i. 3).

ED.

[594] 1 Corinthians xv. 52.--ED.

[595] Compare _Ode, Intimations of Immortality_, in stanza ix.--

Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.--ED.

[596] St. Luke xxi. 33.--ED.

1829

The Poems of 1829 were few; and were, for the most part, suggested by incidents or occurrences at Rydal Mount.--ED.

GOLD AND SILVER FISHES IN A VASE

Composed 1829.--Published 1835

[They were a present from Miss Jewsbury, of whom mention is made in the note at the end of the next poem. The fish were healthy to all appearance in their confinement for a long time, but at last, for some cause we could not make out, they languished, and, one of them being all but dead, they were taken to the pool under the old pollard-oak. The apparently dying one lay on its side unable to move. I used to watch it, and about the tenth day it began to right itself, and in a few days more was able to swim about with its companions. For many months they continued to prosper in their new place of abode; but one night by an unusually great flood they were swept out of the pool, and perished to our great regret.--I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Poems."--ED.

The soaring lark is blest as proud When at heaven's gate she sings;[597] The roving bee proclaims aloud Her flight by vocal wings; While Ye, in lasting durance pent, 5 Your silent lives employ For something more than dull content, Though haply less than joy.[598]

Yet might your glassy prison seem A place where joy is known, 10 Where golden flash and silver gleam Have meanings of their own; While, high and low, and all about, Your motions, glittering Elves! Ye weave--no danger from without, 15 And peace among yourselves.

Type of a sunny human breast Is your transparent cell; Where Fear is but a transient guest, No sullen Humours dwell; 20 Where, sensitive of every ray That smites this tiny sea, Your scaly panoplies repay The loan with usury.

How beautiful!--Yet none knows why 25 This ever-graceful change, Renewed--renewed incessantly-- Within your quiet range. Is it that ye with conscious skill For mutual pleasure glide; 30 And sometimes, not without your will, Are dwarfed, or magnified?

Fays, Genii of gigantic size! And now, in twilight dim, Clustering like constellated eyes, 35 In wings of Cherubim, When the fierce orbs abate their glare;--[599] Whate'er your forms express, Whate'er ye seem, whate'er ye are-- All leads to gentleness. 40

Cold though your nature be, 'tis pure; Your birthright is a fence From all that haughtier kinds endure Through tyranny of sense. Ah! not alone by colours bright 45 Are Ye to heaven allied, When, like essential Forms of light, Ye mingle, or divide.

For day-dreams soft as e'er beguiled Day-thoughts while limbs repose; 50 For moonlight fascinations mild, Your gift, ere shutters close-- Accept, mute Captives! thanks and praise; And may this tribute prove That gentle admirations raise 55 Delight resembling love.

FOOTNOTES:

[597] Compare _Cymbeline_, act II. scene iii. l. 21.--ED.

[598] See note [448] to p. 160.--ED.

[599] 1837.

When they abate their fiery glare: 1835.

LIBERTY

(SEQUEL TO THE ABOVE)[600]

[ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND; THE GOLD AND SILVER FISHES HAVING BEEN REMOVED TO A POOL IN THE PLEASURE-GROUND OF RYDAL MOUNT.]

Composed 1829.--Published 1835

"The liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made for themselves, under whatever form it be of government. The liberty of a private man, in being master of his own time and actions, as far as may consist with the laws of God and of his country. Of this latter we are here to discourse."--COWLEY.

One of the "Miscellaneous Poems."--ED.

Those breathing Tokens of your kind regard, (Suspect not, Anna,[601] that their fate is hard; Not soon does aught to which mild fancies cling In lonely spots, become a slighted thing;) Those silent Inmates now no longer share, 5 Nor do they need, our hospitable care, Removed in kindness from their glassy Cell To the fresh waters of a living Well--[602] An elfin pool so sheltered that its rest No winds disturb;[603] the mirror of whose breast 10 Is smooth as clear, save where with dimples small[604] A fly may settle, or a blossom fall.[605] --_There_ swims, of blazing sun and beating shower Fearless (but how obscured!) the golden Power, That from his bauble prison used to cast 15 Gleams by the richest jewel unsurpast; And near him, darkling like a sullen Gnome, The silver Tenant of the crystal dome; Dissevered both from all the mysteries Of hue and altering shape that charmed all eyes. 20 Alas! they pined,[606] they languished while they shone; And, if not so, what matters beauty gone And admiration lost, by change of place That brings to the inward creature no disgrace? But if the change restore his birth-right, then, 25 Whate'er the difference, boundless is the gain. Who can divine what impulses from God Reach the caged lark, within a town-abode, From his poor inch or two of daisied sod? O yield him back his privilege!--No sea 30 Swells like the bosom of a man set free; A wilderness is rich with liberty. Roll on, ye spouting whales, who die or keep Your independence in the fathomless Deep! Spread, tiny nautilus, the living sail; 35 Dive, at thy choice, or brave the freshening gale! If unreproved the ambitious eagle mount Sunward to seek the daylight in its fount,[607] Bays, gulfs, and ocean's Indian width, shall be, Till the world perishes, a field for thee! 40

While musing here I sit in shadow cool, And watch these mute Companions, in the pool, (Among reflected boughs of leafy trees) By glimpses caught--disporting at their ease, Enlivened, braced, by hardy luxuries, 45 I ask what warrant fixed them (like a spell Of witchcraft fixed them) in the crystal cell; To wheel with languid motion round and round, Beautiful, yet in mournful durance bound. Their peace, perhaps, our lightest footfall marred; 50 On their quick sense our sweetest music jarred; And whither could they dart, if seized with fear? No sheltering stone, no tangled root was near. When fire or taper ceased to cheer the room, They wore away the night in starless gloom; 55 And, when the sun first dawned upon the streams, How faint their portion of his vital beams! Thus, and unable to complain, they fared, While not one joy of ours by them was shared.

Is there a cherished bird (I venture now 60 To snatch a sprig from Chaucer's reverend brow)--[608] Is there a brilliant fondling of the cage, Though sure of plaudits on his costly stage, Though fed with dainties from the snow-white hand Of a kind mistress, fairest of the land, 65 But gladly would escape; and, if need were, Scatter the colours from the plumes that bear The emancipated captive through blithe air Into strange woods, where he at large may live On best or worst which they and Nature give? 70 The beetle loves his unpretending track, The snail the house he carries on his back; The far-fetched worm with pleasure would disown The bed we give him, though of softest down; A noble instinct; in all kinds the same, 75 All ranks! What Sovereign, worthy of the name, If doomed to breathe against his lawful will An element that flatters him--to kill, But would rejoice to barter outward show For the least boon that freedom can bestow? 80

But most the Bard is true to inborn right, Lark of the dawn, and Philomel of night, Exults in freedom, can with rapture vouch For the dear blessings of a lowly couch, 84 A natural meal--days, months, from Nature's hand; Time, place, and business, all at his command!-- Who bends to happier duties, who more wise Than the industrious Poet, taught to prize, Above all grandeur, a pure life uncrossed By cares in which simplicity is lost? 90 That life--the flowery path that[609] winds by stealth-- Which Horace needed for his spirit's health;[610] Sighed for, in heart and genius, overcome By noise and strife, and questions wearisome, And the vain splendours of Imperial Rome?--[611] 95 Let easy mirth his social hours inspire, And fiction animate his sportive lyre, Attuned to verse that, crowning light Distress With garlands, cheats her into happiness; Give _me_ the humblest note of those sad strains 100 Drawn forth by pressure of his gilded chains, As a chance-sunbeam from his memory fell Upon the Sabine farm he loved so well;[612] Or when the prattle of Blandusia's spring[613] Haunted his ear--he only listening-- 105 He proud to please, above all rivals, fit To win the palm of gaiety and wit; He, doubt not, with involuntary dread, Shrinking from each new favour to be shed, By the world's Ruler, on his honoured head! 110

In a deep vision's intellectual scene, Such earnest longings and regrets as keen Depressed the melancholy Cowley, laid Under a fancied yew-tree's luckless shade; A doleful bower for penitential song, 115 Where Man and Muse complained of mutual wrong; While Cam's ideal current glided by, And antique towers nodded their foreheads high, Citadels dear to studious privacy. But Fortune, who had long been used to sport 120 With this tried Servant of a thankless Court, Relenting met his wishes; and to you The remnant of his days at least was true; You, whom, though long deserted, he loved best; You, Muses, books, fields, liberty, and rest![614] 125

Far[615] happier they who, fixing hope and aim On the humanities of peaceful fame, Enter betimes with more than martial fire The generous course, aspire, and still aspire; Upheld by warnings heeded not too late 130 Stifle the contradictions of their fate, And to one purpose cleave, their Being's godlike mate!

Thus, gifted Friend, but with the placid brow That woman ne'er should forfeit, keep _thy_ vow; With modest scorn reject whate'er would blind 135 The ethereal eyesight, cramp the wingèd mind! Then, with a blessing granted from above To every act, word, thought, and look of love, Life's book for Thee may lie unclosed, till age Shall with a thankful tear bedrop its latest page.[616] 140

FOOTNOTES:

[600] 1835.

SEQUEL TO THE PRECEDING 1837.

The text of 1857 returns to that of 1835.

[601] See the Sonnet (p. 168) beginning--

While Anna's peers and early playmates tread.

ED.

[602] See _The Faërie Queene_, book i. canto 2, stanza 43--

Till we be bathed in a living well.

ED.

[603] This "elfin pool," to which the gold and silver fishes were removed, still exists beneath the pollard oak tree in "Dora's Field," at Rydal Mount. The field is now the property of Mr. Gordon Wordsworth.--ED.

[604] 1845.

... Well; That spreads into an elfin pool opaque Of which close boughs a glimmering mirror make, On whose smooth breast with dimples light and small 1835.

[605] 1845.

The fly may settle, leaf or blossom fall. 1835. The fly may settle, or the blossom fall. 1837.

[606] 1845.

They pined, perhaps, ... 1835.

[607] See the reference to the Eagle in _The Power of Sound_ (p. 212), and in the "Poems composed or suggested during a Tour in the Summer of 1833," _The Dunolly Eagle_.--ED.

[608] See, in "The Canterbury Tales," _The Squire's Tale_, ll. 598-611.--ED.

[609] 1837.

... which ... 1835.

[610] These last five lines are amongst the best instances of Wordsworth's appreciation of one of his great predecessors. Compare the second of the two poems _September_ 1819.--ED.

[611] "The Sabine farm was situated in the valley of Ustica, thirty miles from Rome and twelve miles from Tivoli. It possessed the attraction, no small one to Horace, of being very secluded: yet, at the same time, within an easy distance of Rome. When his spirits wanted the stimulus of society or the bustle of the capital, which they often did, his ambling mule would speedily convey him thither; and when jaded, on the other hand, by the noise and racket and dissipations of Rome, he could, in the same homely way, bury himself in a few hours among the hills, and there, under the shadow of his favourite Lucretilis, or by the banks of the clear-flowing and ice-cold Digentia, either stretch himself to dream upon the grass, lulled by the murmurs of the stream, or do a little farming in the way of clearing his fields of stones, or turning over a furrow here and there with the hoe." (See Sir Theodore Martin's _Horace_, p. 68.)--ED.

[612] See Horace, _Odes_, II. 18--

Satis beatus unicis Sabinis. With what I have completely blest, My happy little Sabine nest.--ED.

[613] See _Odes_, III. 13.--ED.

[614] Abraham Cowley (born 1618), educated at Westminster and Trinity College, Cambridge, a Royalist, and therefore expelled from Cambridge, settled in St. John's College, Oxford, crossed over with the Queen Mother to France for twelve years, returned at the Restoration, but was neglected at Court, and retired to a farm at Chertsey, on the Thames, where he lived for some years, "the melancholy Cowley."--ED.

[615] 1837.

But ... 1835.

[616] There is now, alas! no possibility of the anticipation, with which the above Epistle concludes, being realised: nor were the verses ever seen by the Individual for whom they were intended. She accompanied her husband, the Rev. Wm. Fletcher, to India, and died of cholera, at the age of thirty-two or thirty-three years, on her way from Shalapore to Bombay, deeply lamented by all who knew her.

Her enthusiasm was ardent, her piety steadfast; and her great talents would have enabled her to be eminently useful in the difficult path of life to which she had been called. The opinion she entertained of her own performances, given to the world under her maiden name, Jewsbury, was modest and humble, and, indeed, far below their merits; as is often the case with those who are making trial of their powers, with a hope to discover what they are best fitted for. In one quality, viz., quickness in the motions of her mind, she had,[617] within the range of the Author's acquaintance, no equal.--W. W. 1835.

[617] 1837.

She was in the author's estimation unequalled.--W. W. 1835.

HUMANITY[618]

Composed 1829.--Published 1835

Not from his fellows only man may learn Rights to compare and duties to discern: All creatures and all objects, in degree, Are friends and patrons of humanity.--MS. 1835.

The Rocking-stones, alluded to in the beginning of the following verses, are supposed to have been used, by our British ancestors, both for judicial and religious purposes. Such stones are not uncommonly found, at this day, both in Great Britain and in Ireland.--W. W. 1835.

[These verses and those entitled "Liberty" were composed as one piece, which Mrs. Wordsworth complained of as unwieldy and ill-proportioned; and accordingly it was divided into two, on her judicious recommendation.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--ED.

What though the Accused, upon his own appeal To righteous Gods when man has ceased to feel, Or at a doubting Judge's stern command, Before the STONE OF POWER no longer stand-- To take his sentence from the balanced Block, 5 As, at his touch, it rocks, or seems to rock;[619] Though, in the depths of sunless groves, no more The Druid-priest the hallowed Oak adore; Yet, for the Initiate, rocks and whispering trees Do still perform mysterious offices! 10 And functions dwell in beast and bird that sway The reasoning mind, or with the fancy play, Inviting, at all seasons, ears and eyes To watch for undelusive auguries:--[620] Not uninspired appear their simplest ways; 15 Their voices mount symbolical of praise-- To mix with hymns that Spirits make and hear; And to fallen man their innocence is dear. Enraptured Art draws from those sacred springs Streams that reflect the poetry of things! 20 Where christian Martyrs stand in hues portrayed, That, might a wish avail, would never fade, Borne in their hands the lily and the palm Shed round the altar a celestial calm; There, too, behold the lamb and guileless dove 25 Prest in the tenderness of virgin love To saintly bosoms!--Glorious in the blending Of right affections climbing or descending Along a scale of light and life, with cares Alternate; carrying holy thoughts and prayers 30 Up to the sovereign seat of the Most High; Descending to the worm in charity;[621] Like those good Angels whom a dream of night Gave, in the field of Luz, to Jacob's sight[622] All, while _he_ slept, treading the pendent stairs 35 Earthward or heavenward, radiant messengers, That, with a perfect will in one accord Of strict obedience, serve[623] the Almighty Lord; And with untired humility forbore To speed their errand by[624] the wings they wore. 40

What a fair world were ours for verse to paint, If Power could live at ease with self-restraint! Opinion bow before the naked sense Of the great Vision,--faith in Providence; Merciful over all his creatures, just[625] 45 To the least particle of sentient dust;[626] But,[627] fixing by immutable decrees, Seedtime and harvest for his purposes! Then would be closed the restless oblique eye That looks for evil like a treacherous spy; 50 Disputes would then relax, like stormy winds That into breezes sink; impetuous minds By discipline endeavour to grow meek As Truth herself, whom they profess to seek. Then Genius, shunning fellowship with Pride, 55 Would braid his golden locks at Wisdom's side; Love ebb and flow untroubled by caprice; And not alone _harsh_ tyranny would cease, But unoffending creatures find release From qualified oppression, whose defence 60 Rests on a hollow plea of recompense; Thought-tempered wrongs, for each humane respect Oft worse to bear, or deadlier in effect. Witness those glances of indignant scorn From some high-minded Slave, impelled to spurn 65 The kindness that would make him less forlorn; Or, if the soul to bondage be subdued, His look of pitiable gratitude!

Alas for thee, bright Galaxy of Isles, Whose[628] day departs in pomp, returns with smiles-- To greet the flowers and fruitage of a land, 71 As the sun mounts, by sea-born breezes fanned; A land whose azure mountain-tops are seats For Gods in council, whose green vales, retreats Fit for the shades of heroes, mingling there 75 To breathe Elysian peace in upper air.

Though cold as winter, gloomy as the grave, Stone-walls a prisoner make, but not a slave.[629] Shall man assume a property in man? Lay on the moral will a withering ban? 80 Shame that our laws at distance still protect[630] Enormities, which they at home reject! "Slaves cannot breathe in England"[631]--yet that boast Is but a mockery! when[632] from coast to coast, Though _fettered_ slave be none, her floors and soil 85 Groan underneath a weight of slavish toil, For the poor Many, measured out by rules Fetched with cupidity from heartless schools, That to an Idol, falsely called[633] "the Wealth Of Nations,"[634] sacrifice a People's health, 90 Body and mind and soul; a thirst so keen[635] Is ever urging on the vast machine Of sleepless Labour, 'mid whose dizzy wheels The Power least prized is that which thinks and feels.

Then, for the pastimes of this delicate age, 95 And all the heavy or light vassalage Which for their sakes we fasten, as may suit Our varying moods, on human kind or brute, 'Twere well in little, as in great, to pause, Lest Fancy trifle with eternal laws. 100 Not from his fellows only man may learn Rights to compare and duties to discern! All creatures and all objects, in degree, Are friends and patrons of humanity. There are to whom the[636] garden, grove, and field, 105 Perpetual lessons of forbearance yield; Who would not lightly violate the grace The lowliest flower possesses in its place; Nor shorten the sweet life, too fugitive, 109 Which nothing less than Infinite Power could give.[637]

FOOTNOTES:

[618] 1837.

HUMANITY.

(WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1829.) 1835.

[619] There are several, so-called, "rocking-stones" in Yorkshire and Lancashire, in Derbyshire, in Cornwall, and in Wales. There are one or two in Scotland, and there used to be several in the Lake District. Some are natural; others artificial.--ED.

[620] 1837.

... offices! And still in beast and bird a function dwells, That, while we look and listen, sometimes tells Upon the heart, in more authentic guise Than Oracles, or winged Auguries, Spake to the Science of the ancient wise. 1835.

[621] The author is indebted, here, to a passage in one of Mr. Digby's valuable works.--W. W. 1835.

See his _Of Bodies, and of man's Soul_.--ED.

[622] Genesis xxviii. 12.--ED.

[623] 1845.

... served ... 1835.

[624] 1837.

The ready service of ... 1835.

[625] 1840.

Merciful over all existence, just 1835.

[626] 1837.

Compassionate to all that suffer, just In the end to every creature born of dust. C.

[627] 1840.

And, ... 1835.

[628] 1837.

Where ... 1835.

[629] Compare Richard Lovelace, _To Althea, from Prison_--

Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage. Minds innocent and quiet take That for a hermitage.--ED.

[630] 1837.

... should protect 1835.

[631] Compare Cowper's _Task_, book ii. l. 40.--ED.

[632] 1837.

...--a proud boast! And yet a mockery! if, ... 1835.

[633]

That to a monstrous idol, called ... C.

[634] Compare _The Prelude_, book xiii. ll. 77, 78--

... that idol proudly named "The Wealth of Nations."--ED.

[635]

The weal of body and soul; so keen a thirst C.

The weal of body, mind, and soul; so keen A thirst urging ... C.

[636] 1837.

... eternal laws. There are to whom even ... 1835.

[637] Compare the closing lines of the _Ode, Intimations of Immortality_--

To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.--ED.

"THIS LAWN, A CARPET ALL ALIVE"

Composed 1829.--Published 1835

[This Lawn is the sloping one approaching the kitchen-garden, and was made out of it. Hundreds of times have I watched the dancing of shadows amid a press of sunshine, and other beautiful appearances of light and shade, flowers and shrubs. What a contrast between this and the cabbages and onions and carrots that used to grow there on a piece of ugly-shaped unsightly ground! No reflection, however, either upon cabbages or onions; the latter we know were worshipped by the Egyptians, and he must have a poor eye for beauty who has not observed how much of it there is in the form and colour which cabbages and plants of that genus exhibit through the various stages of their growth and decay. A richer display of colour in vegetable nature can scarcely be conceived than Coleridge, my sister, and I saw in a bed of potato-plants in blossom near a hut upon the moor between Inversneyd and Loch Katrine.[638] These blossoms were of such extraordinary beauty and richness that no one could have passed them without notice. But the sense must be cultivated through the mind before we can perceive these inexhaustible treasures of Nature, for such they really are, without the least necessary reference to the utility of her productions, or even to the laws whereupon, as we learn by research, they are dependent. Some are of opinion that the habit of analysing, decomposing, and anatomising, is inevitably unfavourable to the perception of beauty. People are led into this mistake by overlooking the fact that such processes being to a certain extent within the reach of a limited intellect, we are apt to ascribe to them that insensibility of which they are in truth the effect and not the cause. Admiration and love, to which all knowledge truly vital must tend, are felt by men of real genius in proportion as their discoveries in natural Philosophy are enlarged; and the beauty in form of a plant or an animal is not made less but more apparent as a whole by more accurate insight into its constituent properties and powers. A _Savant_ who is not also a poet in soul and a religionist in heart is a feeble and unhappy creature.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--ED.

This Lawn, a carpet all alive With shadows flung from leaves--to strive In dance, amid a press Of sunshine, an apt emblem yields Of Worldlings revelling in the fields 5 Of strenuous idleness;[639]

Less quick the stir when tide and breeze Encounter, and to narrow seas Forbid a moment's rest; The medley less when boreal Lights 10 Glance to and fro, like aery Sprites To feats of arms addrest!

Yet, spite of all this eager strife, This ceaseless play, the genuine life That serves the stedfast hours, 15 Is in the grass beneath, that grows Unheeded, and the mute repose Of sweetly-breathing flowers.

FOOTNOTES:

[638] In 1803, Miss Wordsworth thus records it:--"We passed by one patch of potatoes that a florist might have been proud of; no carnation-bed ever looked more gay than this square plot of ground on the waste common. The flowers were in very large bunches, and of an extraordinary size, and of every conceivable shade of colouring from snow-white to deep purple. It was pleasing in that place, where perhaps was never yet a flower cultivated by man for his own pleasure, to see these blossoms grow more gladly than elsewhere, making a summer garden near the mountain dwellings." (_Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland in 1803_, p. 85).--ED.

[639] Compare _The Prelude_, book iv. l. 378.--ED.

THOUGHTS[640] ON THE SEASONS

Composed 1829.--Published 1835

[Written at Rydal Mount.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--ED.

Flattered with promise of escape From every hurtful blast, Spring takes, O sprightly May! thy shape, Her loveliest and her last.[641]

Less fair is summer riding high 5 In fierce solstitial power, Less fair than when a lenient sky Brings on her parting hour.

When earth repays with golden sheaves The labours of the plough, 10 And ripening fruits and forest leaves All brighten on the bough;

What pensive beauty autumn shows, Before she hears the sound Of winter rushing in, to close 15 The emblematic round!

Such be our Spring, our Summer such; So may our Autumn blend With hoary Winter, and Life touch, Through heaven-born hope, her end! 20

FOOTNOTES:

[640] 1850.

THOUGHT ... 1835.

The text of 1857 returns to that of 1835.

[641] Compare _Ode, composed on May Morning_, 1826 (p. 146); also _To May_, 1826 (p. 148).--ED.

A TRADITION OF OKER HILL IN DARLEY DALE, DERBYSHIRE[642]

Composed 1829.--Published 1829[643]

[This pleasing tradition was told me by the coachman at whose side I sate while he drove down the dale, he pointing to the trees on the hill as he related the story.--I.F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

'Tis said that to the brow of yon fair hill Two Brothers clomb, and, turning face from face, Nor one look more exchanging, grief to still Or feed, each planted on that lofty place A chosen Tree;[644] then, eager to fulfil 5 Their courses, like two new-born rivers, they In opposite directions urged their way Down from the far-seen mount. No blast might kill Or blight that fond memorial;--the trees grew, And now entwine their arms; but ne'er again 10 Embraced those Brothers upon earth's wide plain; Nor aught of mutual joy or sorrow knew Until their spirits mingled in the sea That to itself takes all, Eternity.

FOOTNOTES:

[642] 1837.

A TRADITION OF DARLEY DALE, DERBYSHIRE. 1832.

[643] In _The Keepsake_.--ED.

[644] Mr. T. W. Shore (Southampton), writes to me: "The two trees referred to by the poet are still on the hill, and called the Shore Trees. The family of Shore is an ancient one in Derbyshire, extending back to the reign of Richard II. In the time of Charles I, several members of the family impoverished themselves in support of the Royalist cause.... The trees on Oker Hill are supposed to have been planted by those who remembered the family misfortunes, or who succeeded the family which took part in the 17th century struggle."--ED.

FILIAL PIETY

(ON THE WAYSIDE BETWEEN PRESTON AND LIVERPOOL)

Composed 1829 (probably).--Published 1832

[This was also communicated to me by a coachman in the same way.[645] In the course of my many coach rambles and journeys, which, during the day-time always, and often in the night, were taken on the outside of the coach, I had good and frequent opportunities of learning the characteristics of this class of men. One remark I made that is worth recording; that whenever I had occasion especially to notice their well-ordered, respectful and kind behaviour to women, of whatever age, I found them, I may say almost always, to be married men.--I.F.]

This happened near Ormskirk. Thomas Scarisbrick was killed by a flash of lightning, whilst building a turf-stack in 1799. His son James completed the work, and kept it intact during his life-time. James was buried April 21st, 1824. Wordsworth was therefore wrong as to the "fifty winters."--ED.

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

Untouched through all severity of cold; Inviolate, whate'er the cottage hearth Might need for comfort, or for festal mirth; That Pile of Turf is half a century old: Yes, Traveller! fifty winters have been told 5 Since suddenly the dart of death went forth 'Gainst him who raised it,--his last work on earth: Thence has it, with the Son, so strong a hold Upon his Father's memory, that his hands, Through reverence, touch it only to repair[646] 10 Its waste.--Though crumbling with each breath of air, In annual renovation thus it stands-- Rude Mausoleum! but wrens nestle there, And red-breasts warble when sweet sounds are rare.

FOOTNOTES:

[645] Compare the Fenwick note to _A Tradition of Oker Hill in Darley_ _Dale, Derbyshire_, p. 230.--ED.

[646] 1837.

Thence by his Son more prized than aught which gold Could purchase--watched, preserved by his own hands, That, faithful to the Structure, still repair 1832.

1830

The Poems written in 1830 include, _The Armenian Lady's Love_, _The Russian Fugitive_, _The Egyptian Maid_, the Elegiac Stanzas on Sir George Beaumont, and several minor pieces.--ED.

THE ARMENIAN LADY'S LOVE

Composed 1830.--Published 1835

The subject of the following poem is from the Orlandus of the author's friend, Kenelm Henry Digby: and the liberty is taken of inscribing it to him as an acknowledgment, however unworthy, of pleasure and instruction derived from his numerous and valuable writings, illustrative of the piety and chivalry of the olden time.--W. W.

[Written at Rydal Mount.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."--ED.

I

You have heard "a Spanish Lady How she wooed an English man;"[647] Hear now of a fair Armenian, Daughter of the proud Soldàn; How she loved a Christian Slave, and told her pain 5 By word, look, deed, with hope that he might love again.

II

"Pluck that rose, it moves my liking," Said she, lifting up her veil; "Pluck it for me, gentle gardener, Ere it wither and grow pale." 10 "Princess fair, I till the ground, but may not take From twig or bed an humbler flower, even for your sake!"

III

"Grieved am I, submissive Christian! To behold thy captive state; Women, in your land, may pity 15 (May they not?) the unfortunate." "Yes, kind Lady! otherwise man could not bear Life, which to every one that breathes is full of care."

IV

"Worse than idle is compassion If it end in tears and sighs; 20 Thee from bondage would I rescue And from vile indignities; Nurtured, as thy mien bespeaks, in high degree, Look up--and help a hand that longs to set thee free."

V

"Lady! dread the wish, nor venture 25 In such peril to engage; Think how it would stir against you Your most loving father's rage: Sad deliverance would it be, and yoked with shame, Should troubles overflow on her from whom it came." 30

VI

"Generous Frank! the just in effort Are of inward peace secure: Hardships for the brave encountered, Even the feeblest may endure: If almighty grace through me thy chains unbind 35 My father for slave's work may seek a slave in mind."

VII

"Princess, at this burst of goodness, My long-frozen heart grows warm!" "Yet you make all courage fruitless, Me to save from chance of harm: 40 Leading such companion I that gilded dome, Yon minarets, would gladly leave for his worst home."

VIII

"Feeling tunes your voice, fair Princess! And your brow is free from scorn, Else these words would come like mockery, 45 Sharper than the pointed thorn." "Whence the undeserved mistrust? Too wide apart Our faith hath been,--O would that eyes could see the heart!"

IX

"Tempt me not, I pray; my doom is These base implements to wield; 50 Rusty lance, I ne'er shall grasp thee, Ne'er assoil my cobwebb'd shield! Never see my native land, nor castle towers, Nor Her who thinking of me there counts widowed hours."

X

"Prisoner! pardon youthful fancies; 55 Wedded? If you _can_, say no! Blessed is and be your consort; Hopes I cherished--let them go! Handmaid's privilege would leave my purpose free, Without another link to my felicity." 60

XI

"Wedded love with loyal Christians, Lady, is a mystery rare; Body, heart, and soul in union, Make one being of a pair." "Humble love in me would look for no return, 65 Soft as a guiding star that cheers, but cannot burn."

XII

"Gracious Allah! by such title Do I dare to thank the God, Him who thus exalts thy spirit, Flower of an unchristian sod! 70 Or hast thou put off wings which thou in heaven dost wear? What have I seen, and heard or dreamt? where am I? where?"

XIII

Here broke off the dangerous converse: Less impassioned words might tell How the pair escaped together, 75 Tears not wanting, nor a knell Of sorrow in her heart while through her father's door, And from her narrow world, she passed for evermore.

XIV

But affections higher, holier, Urged her steps; she shrunk from trust 80 In a sensual creed that trampled Woman's birthright into dust. Little be the wonder then, the blame be none, If she, a timid Maid, hath put such boldness on.

XV

Judge both Fugitives with knowledge: 85 In those old romantic days Mighty were the soul's commandments To support, restrain, or raise. Foes might hang upon their path, snakes rustle near, But nothing from their inward selves had they to fear. 90

XVI

Thought infirm ne'er came between them, Whether printing desert sands With accordant steps, or gathering Forest-fruit with social hands; 94 Or whispering like two reeds that in the cold moonbeam Bend with the breeze their heads, beside a crystal stream.

XVII

On a friendly deck reposing They at length for Venice steer; There, when they had closed their voyage, One, who daily on the pier 100 Watched for tidings from the East, beheld his Lord, Fell down and clasped his knees for joy, not uttering word.

XVIII

Mutual was the sudden transport; Breathless questions followed fast, Years contracting to a moment, 105 Each word greedier than the last; "Hie thee to the Countess, friend! return with speed, And of this Stranger speak by whom her lord was freed.

XIX

Say that I, who might have languished, Drooped and pined till life was spent, 110 Now before the gates of Stolberg[648] My Deliverer would present For a crowning recompense, the precious grace Of her who in my heart still holds her ancient place.

XX

Make it known that my Companion 115 Is of royal eastern blood, Thirsting after all perfection, Innocent, and meek, and good, Though with misbelievers bred; but that dark night Will holy Church disperse by beams of gospel-light." 120

XXI

Swiftly went that grey-haired Servant, Soon returned a trusty Page Charged with greetings, benedictions, Thanks and praises, each a gage For a sunny thought to cheer the Stranger's way, 125 Her virtuous scruples to remove, her fears allay.

XXII

And how blest the Reunited, While beneath their castle-walls, Runs a deafening noise of welcome!-- Blest, though every tear that falls 130 Doth in its silence of past sorrow tell, And makes[649] a meeting seem most like a dear farewell.

XXIII

Through a haze of human nature, Glorified by heavenly light, Looked the beautiful Deliverer 135 On that overpowering sight, While across her virgin cheek pure blushes strayed, For every tender sacrifice her heart had made.

XXIV

On the ground the weeping Countess Knelt, and kissed the Stranger's hand; 140 Act of soul-devoted homage, Pledge of an eternal band: Nor did aught of future days that kiss belie, Which, with a generous shout, the crowd did ratify.

XXV

Constant to the fair Armenian, 145 Gentle pleasures round her moved, Like a tutelary spirit Reverenced, like a sister, loved. Christian meekness smoothed for all the path of life, 149 Who, loving most, should wiseliest love, their only strife.

XXVI

Mute memento of that union In a Saxon church survives, Where a cross-legged Knight lies sculptured As between two wedded Wives-- Figures with armorial signs of race and birth, 155 And the vain rank the pilgrims bore while yet on earth.

FOOTNOTES:

[647] See, in Percy's _Reliques_, that fine old ballad, "The Spanish Lady's Love;" from which Poem the form of stanza, as suitable to dialogue, is adopted.--W. W. 1835.

[648] A small town in Prussian-Saxony, the residence of the Counts of Stolberg-Stolberg.--ED.

[649] 1836.

Fancy (while, to banners floating High on Stolberg's Castle walls, Deafening noise of welcome mounted, Trumpets, Drums, and Atabals,) The devout embraces still, while such tears fell As made ... 1835.

THE RUSSIAN FUGITIVE[650]

Composed 1830.--Published 1835

[Early in life this story had interested me, and I often thought it would make a pleasing subject for an opera or musical drama.--I. F.]

In 1837 this poem was placed among those grouped as "Yarrow revisited, etc." In 1845 it was transferred to the "Miscellaneous Poems."--ED.