PART II

Now, to a maturer Audience, 25 Let me speak of this brave Child Left among her native mountains With wild Nature to run wild.

So, unwatched by love maternal, Mother’s care no more her guide, 30 Fared this little bright-eyed Orphan Even while at her father’s side.

Spare your blame,--remembrance makes him Loth to rule by strict command; Still upon his cheek are living 35 Touches of her infant hand,

Dear caresses given in pity, Sympathy that soothed his grief, As the dying mother witnessed To her thankful mind’s relief. 40

Time passed on; the Child was happy, Like a Spirit of air she moved, Wayward, yet by all who knew her For her tender heart beloved.

Scarcely less than sacred passions, 45 Bred in house, in grove, and field, Link her with the inferior creatures, Urge her powers their rights to shield.

Anglers, bent on reckless pastime, Learn how she can feel alike 50 Both for tiny harmless minnow And the fierce and sharp-toothed pike.

Merciful protectress, kindling Into anger or disdain; Many a captive hath she rescued, 55 Others saved from lingering pain.

Listen yet awhile;--with patience Hear the homely truths I tell, She in Grasmere’s old church-steeple Tolled this day the passing-bell. 60

Yes, the wild Girl of the mountains To their echoes gave the sound, Notice punctual as the minute, Warning solemn and profound.

She, fulfilling her sire’s office, 65 Rang alone the far-heard knell, Tribute, by her hand, in sorrow, Paid to One who loved her well.

When his spirit was departed On that service she went forth; 70 Nor will fail the like to render When his corse is laid in earth.[292]

What then wants the Child to temper, In her breast, unruly fire, To control the froward impulse 75 And restrain the vague desire?

Easily a pious training And a stedfast outward power Would supplant the weeds and cherish, In their stead, each opening flower. 80

Thus the fearless Lamb-deliv’rer, Woman-grown, meek-hearted, sage, May become a blest example For her sex, of every age.[293]

Watchful as a wheeling eagle, 85 Constant as a soaring lark, Should the country need a heroine, She might prove our Maid of Arc.

Leave that thought; and here be uttered Prayer that Grace divine may raise 90 Her humane courageous spirit Up to heaven, thro’ peaceful ways.[294]

[290] This Westmoreland Girl was Sarah Mackereth of Wyke Cottage, Grasmere. She married a man named Davis, and died in 1872 at Broughton in Furness. The swollen “flood” from which she rescued the lamb, was Wyke Gill beck, which descends from the centre of Silver Howe. The picturesque cottage, with round chimney,--a yew tree and Scotch fir behind it,--is on the western side of the road from Grasmere over to Langdale by Red Bank. The Mackereths have been a well-known Westmoreland family for some hundred years. They belong to the “gentry of the soil,” and have been parish clerks in Grasmere for generations. One of them was the tenant of the Swan Inn referred to in _The Waggoner_--the host who painted, with his own hand, the “famous swan,” used as a sign. (See vol. iii. p. 81.)

The story of _The Blind Highland Boy_, which gave rise to the poem bearing that name, was told to Wordsworth by one of these Mackereths of Grasmere. (See the Fenwick note, vol. ii. p. 420.) In a letter to Professor Henry Reed (31st July 1845) Wordsworth said this poem might interest him “as exhibiting what sort of characters our mountains breed. It is truth to the letter.”--ED.

[291] 1845.

… its simple dam.

MS.

[292] 1845.

… must lie in earth.

MS.

[293] Compare _Grace Darling_, p. 311 in this volume.--ED.

[294] 1845.

Leave that word--and here be offered Prayer that Grace divine would raise This humane courageous spirit Up to Heaven through peaceful ways.

In a letter to Henry Reed, July 1845.

AT FURNESS ABBEY

Composed 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”--ED.

Well have yon Railway Labourers to THIS ground Withdrawn for noontide rest. They sit, they walk Among the Ruins, but no idle talk Is heard; to grave demeanour all are bound; And from one voice a Hymn with tuneful sound 5 Hallows once more the long-deserted Quire[295] And thrills the old sepulchral earth, around. Others look up, and with fixed eyes admire That wide-spanned arch, wondering how it was raised, To keep, so high in air, its strength and grace: 10 All seem to feel the spirit of the place, And by the general reverence God is praised: Profane Despoilers, stand ye not reproved, While thus these simple-hearted men are moved?

_June 21st, 1845._

[295] See the note to the previous sonnet on Furness Abbey, p. 168.--ED.

“YES! THOU ART FAIR, YET BE NOT MOVED”

Composed possibly in 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Poems founded on the Affections.”--ED.

Yes! thou art fair, yet be not moved To scorn the declaration, That sometimes I in thee have loved My fancy’s own creation.

Imagination needs must stir; 5 Dear Maid, this truth believe, Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.

Be pleased that nature made thee fit To feed my heart’s devotion, 10 By laws to which all Forms submit In sky, air, earth, and ocean.

“WHAT HEAVENLY SMILES! O LADY MINE”

Composed 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Poems founded on the Affections.”--ED.

What heavenly smiles! O Lady mine Through my[296] very heart they shine; And, if my brow gives back their light, Do thou look gladly on the sight; As the clear Moon with modest pride Beholds her own bright beams Reflected from the mountain’s side And from the headlong streams.

[296] 1845.

… this …

MS.

TO A LADY,

IN ANSWER TO A REQUEST THAT I WOULD WRITE HER A POEM UPON SOME DRAWINGS THAT SHE HAD MADE OF FLOWERS IN THE ISLAND OF MADEIRA

Composed 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Poems of the Fancy.”--ED.

Fair Lady! can I sing of flowers That in Madeira bloom and fade, I who ne’er sate within their bowers, Nor through their sunny lawns have strayed? How they in sprightly dance are worn 5 By Shepherd-groom or May-day queen, Or holy festal pomps adorn, These eyes have never seen.

Yet tho’ to me the pencil’s art No like remembrances can give, 10 Your portraits still may reach the heart And there for gentle pleasure live; While Fancy ranging with free scope Shall on some lovely Alien set A name with us endeared to hope, 15 To peace, or fond regret.[297]

Still as we look with nicer care, Some new resemblance we may trace: A _Heart’s-ease_ will perhaps be there, A _Speedwell_ may not want its place. 20 And so may we, with charmèd mind Beholding what your skill has wrought, Another _Star-of-Bethlehem_ find, A new[298] _Forget-me-not_.

From earth to heaven with motion fleet 25 From heaven to earth our thoughts will pass, A _Holy-thistle_ here we meet And there a _Shepherd’s weather-glass_; And haply some familiar name Shall grace the fairest, sweetest, plant 30 Whose presence cheers the drooping frame Of English Emigrant.

Gazing she feels its power beguile Sad thoughts, and breathes with easier breath; Alas! that meek that tender smile 35 Is but a harbinger of death: And pointing with a feeble hand She says, in faint words by sighs broken, Bear for me to my native land This precious Flower, true love’s last token. 40

[297] 1845.

And there in sweet communion live: Yet those loved most, in which we own A touching likeness which they bear To flower or herb, by Nature sown, To breathe our English air.

MS.

And there in sweet communion live Admired for beauty of their own, Loved for the likeness some may bear To flower …

MS.

Thus tempted Fancy with free scope Will range, and on these aliens set Names among us endeared to none, To hearts a fond regret.

MS.

So tempted … May range, …

MS.

[298]

Nor miss …

MS.

TO THE PENNSYLVANIANS

Composed 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Sonnets dedicated to Liberty and Order.”--ED.

Days undefiled by luxury or sloth, Firm self-denial, manners grave and staid, Rights equal, laws with cheerfulness obeyed, Words that require no sanction from an oath, And simple honesty a common growth-- 5 This high repute, with bounteous Nature’s aid, Won confidence, now ruthlessly betrayed At will, your power the measure of your troth!-- All who revere the memory of Penn Grieve for the land on whose wild woods his name[299] 10 Was fondly grafted with a virtuous aim, Renounced, abandoned by degenerate Men For state-dishonour black as ever came To upper air from Mammon’s loathsome den.[300]

[299] To William Penn, son of Admiral Sir W. Penn, a printer and Quaker, Charles II. granted lands in America, to which he gave the name of Pennsylvania.--ED.

[300] Mr. Ellis Yarnall wrote to me, April 27, 1885: “The three last lines of the Sonnet _To the Pennsylvanians_, in regard to which you inquire, I think refer to what at the time Wordsworth wrote was known as the _repudiation_ by Pennsylvania of her State debt. The language, however, is too strong, inasmuch as there was _no_ repudiation. For a year or two the _interest_ on the debt was unpaid, then payment was resumed. Members of Wordsworth’s family, or his near friends, held, I believe, some of the Pennsylvania bonds. They held also, as appears from the _Memoirs_, Mississippi bonds, and these _were_ repudiated, or at least five million dollars of a certain class of Mississippi bonds. No such wrong-doing is chargeable to Pennsylvania. I remember the delight with which Professor Reed showed me the note on the fly-leaf at the end of the fifth volume of the edition of 1850--words written at his request, and the last sentences ever composed by the Poet for the press.”--ED.

“YOUNG ENGLAND--WHAT IS THEN BECOME OF OLD”

Composed 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Sonnets dedicated to Liberty and Order.”--ED.

Young England--what is then become of Old Of dear Old England? Think they she is dead, Dead to the very name? Presumption fed On empty air! That name will keep its hold In the true filial bosom’s inmost fold 5 For ever.--The Spirit of Alfred, at the head Of all who for her rights watch’d, toil’d and bled, Knows that this prophecy is not too bold. What--how! shall she submit in will and deed To Beardless Boys--an imitative race, 10 The _servum pecus_ of a Gallic breed? Dear Mother! if thou _must_ thy steps retrace, Go where at least meek Innocency dwells; Let Babes and Sucklings be thy oracles.

1846

The poems written in 1846 were six sonnets, the lines beginning, “I know an aged man constrained to dwell,” an “Evening Voluntary,” and other two short pieces.--ED.

SONNET[301]

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

This was placed among the “Epitaphs and Elegiac Poems.”--ED.

Why should we weep or mourn, Angelic boy, For such thou wert ere from our sight removed, Holy, and ever dutiful--beloved From day to day with never-ceasing joy, And hopes as dear as could the heart employ 5 In aught to earth pertaining? Death has proved His might, nor less his mercy, as behoved-- Death conscious that he only could destroy The bodily frame. That beauty is laid low To moulder in a far-off field of Rome; 10 But Heaven is now, blest Child, thy Spirit’s home: When such divine communion, which we know, Is felt, thy Roman-burial place will be Surely a sweet remembrancer of Thee.

[301] This sonnet refers to the poet’s grandchild, who died at Rome in the beginning of 1846. Wordsworth wrote of it thus to Professor Henry Reed, “_Jan. 23, 1846._ … Our daughter-in-law fell into bad health between three and four years ago. She went with her husband to Madeira, where they remained nearly a year; she was then advised to go to Italy. After a prolonged residence there, her six children (whom her husband returned to England for), went, at her earnest request, to that country, under their father’s guidance; then he was obliged, on account of his duty as a clergyman, to leave them. Four of the number resided with their mother at Rome, three of whom took a fever there, of which the youngest--as noble a boy of five years as ever was seen--died, being seized with convulsions when the fever was somewhat subdued.”--ED.

“WHERE LIES THE TRUTH? HAS MAN, IN WISDOM’S CREED”

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

One of the “Evening Voluntaries.”--ED.

Where lies the truth? has Man, in wisdom’s creed, A pitiable doom; for respite brief A care more anxious, or a heavier grief? Is he ungrateful, and doth little heed God’s bounty, soon forgotten; or indeed, 5 Must Man, with labour born, awake to sorrow[302] When Flowers rejoice and Larks with rival speed Spring from their nests to bid the Sun good morrow? They mount for rapture as their[303] songs proclaim Warbled in hearing both of earth and sky; 10 But o’er the contrast wherefore heave a sigh? Like those aspirants let us soar--our aim, Through life’s worst trials, whether shocks or snares, A happier, brighter, purer Heaven than theirs.[304]

[302] 1850.

Who that lies down and may not wake to sorrow

MS.

[303] 1850.

They mount for rapture; this their …

MS.

[304] This sonnet was suggested by the death of Wordsworth’s grandson commemorated in the previous sonnet, and by the alarming illness of his brother, the Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, and the expected death of a nephew (John Wordsworth), at Ambleside, the only son of his eldest brother, Richard.--ED.

TO LUCCA GIORDANO[305]

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

One of the “Evening Voluntaries.”--ED.

Giordano, verily thy Pencil’s skill Hath here portrayed with Nature’s happiest grace The fair Endymion couched on Latmos-hill; And Dian gazing on the Shepherd’s face In rapture,--yet suspending her embrace, 5 As not unconscious with what power the thrill Of her most timid touch his sleep would chase, And, with his sleep, that beauty calm and still. O may this work have found its last retreat Here in a Mountain-bard’s secure abode, 10 One to whom, yet a School-boy, Cynthia showed A face of love which he in love would greet, Fixed, by her smile, upon some rocky seat; Or lured along where green-wood paths he trod.

RYDAL MOUNT, 1846.

[305] Lucca Giordano was born at Naples, in 1629. He was at first a disciple of Spagnaletto, next of Pietro da Cortona; but after coming under the influence of Correggio, he went to Venice, where Titian was his inspiring master. In his own work the influence of all of these predecessors may be traced, but chiefly that of Titian, whose style of colouring and composition he followed so closely that many of his works might be mistaken for those of his greatest master. The picture referred to in this sonnet was brought from Italy by the poet’s eldest son.--ED.

“WHO BUT IS PLEASED TO WATCH THE MOON ON HIGH”

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

One of the “Evening Voluntaries.”--ED.

Who but is pleased to watch the moon on high Travelling where she from time to time enshrouds Her head, and nothing loth her Majesty Renounces, till among the scattered clouds One with its kindling edge declares that soon 5 Will reappear before the uplifted eye A Form as bright, as beautiful a moon, To glide in open prospect through clear sky. Pity that such a promise e’er should prove False in the issue, that yon seeming space 10 Of sky should be in truth the stedfast face Of a cloud flat and dense, through which must move (By transit not unlike man’s frequent doom) The Wanderer lost in more determined gloom.

ILLUSTRATED BOOKS AND NEWSPAPERS

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

One of the “Poems of Sentiment and Reflection.”--ED.

Discourse was deemed Man’s noblest attribute, And written words the glory of his hand; Then followed Printing with enlarged command For thought--dominion vast and absolute For spreading truth, and making love expand. 5 Now prose and verse sunk into disrepute Must lacquey a dumb Art that best can suit The taste of this once-intellectual Land. A backward movement surely have we here,[306] From manhood--back to childhood; for the age-- 10 Back towards caverned life’s first rude career. Avaunt this vile abuse of pictured page! Must eyes be all in all, the tongue and ear Nothing? Heaven keep us from a lower stage!

[306] The _Illustrated London News_--the pioneer of illustrated newspapers--was first issued on 14th May 1842. The painter and artist may differ from the poet, in the judgment here pronounced; but had Wordsworth known the degradation to which many newspapers would sink in this direction, his censure would have been more severe.--ED.

SONNET

TO AN OCTOGENARIAN

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

Affections lose their object; Time brings forth No successors; and, lodged in memory, If love exist no longer, it must die,-- Wanting accustomed food must pass from earth, Or never hope to reach a second birth.[307] 5 This sad belief, the happiest that is left To thousands, share not Thou; howe’er bereft, Scorned, or neglected, fear not such a dearth. Though poor and destitute of friends thou art, Perhaps the sole survivor of thy race, 10 One to whom Heaven assigns that mournful part The utmost solitude of age to face, Still shall be left some corner of the heart Where Love for living Thing can find a place.

[307] Compare Tennyson’s _Lines to J.S._--

God gives us love. Something to love He lends us; but, when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone.

ED.

“I KNOW AN AGED MAN CONSTRAINED TO DWELL”

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

One of the “Miscellaneous Poems.”--ED.

I know an aged Man constrained to dwell In a large house of public charity, Where he abides, as in a Prisoner’s cell, With numbers near, alas! no company.

When he could creep about, at will, though poor 5 And forced to live on alms, this old Man fed A Redbreast, one that to his cottage door Came not, but in a lane partook his bread.

There, at the root of one particular tree, An easy seat this worn-out Labourer found 10 While Robin pecked the crumbs upon his knee Laid one by one, or scattered on the ground.

Dear intercourse was theirs, day after day; What signs of mutual gladness when they met! Think of their common peace, their simple play, 15 The parting moment and its fond regret.

Months passed in love that failed not to fulfil, In spite of season’s change, its own demand, By fluttering pinions here and busy bill; There by caresses from a tremulous hand. 20

Thus in the chosen spot a tie so strong Was formed between the solitary pair, That when his fate had housed him ’mid a throng The Captive shunned all converse proffered there.

Wife, children, kindred, they were dead and gone; 25 But, if no evil hap his wishes crossed, One living Stay was left, and on[308] that one Some recompense for all that he had lost.

O that the good old Man had power to prove, By message sent through air or visible token, 30 That still he loves the Bird, and still must love; That friendship lasts though fellowship is broken!

[308] So all the editions have it; but, as Principal Greenwood suggested to me, the true reading should be “in that one.”--ED.

“THE UNREMITTING VOICE OF NIGHTLY STREAMS”

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

One of the “Poems of Sentiment and Reflection.”--ED.

The unremitting voice of nightly streams That wastes so oft, we think, its tuneful powers, If neither soothing to the worm that gleams Through dewy grass, nor small birds hushed in bowers, Nor unto silent leaves and drowsy flowers,-- 5 That voice of unpretending harmony (For who what is shall measure by what seems To be, or not to be,[309] Or tax high Heaven with prodigality?) Wants not a healing influence that can creep 10 Into the human breast, and mix with sleep To regulate the motion of our dreams For kindly issues--as through every clime Was felt near murmuring brooks in earliest time; As at this day, the rudest swains who dwell 15 Where torrents roar, or hear the tinkling knell Of water-breaks, with grateful heart could tell.

[309] _Hamlet_, act III. scene i. l. 56.--ED.

“HOW BEAUTIFUL THE QUEEN OF NIGHT, ON HIGH”

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

One of the “Miscellaneous Poems.”--ED.

How beautiful the Queen of Night, on high Her way pursuing among scattered clouds, Where, ever and anon, her head she shrouds Hidden from view in dense obscurity. But look, and to the watchful eye A brightening edge will indicate that soon We shall behold the struggling Moon Break forth,--again to walk the clear blue sky.

ON THE BANKS OF A ROCKY STREAM

Composed 1846.--Published 1850

Behold an emblem of our human mind Crowded with thoughts that need a settled home Yet, like to eddying balls of foam Within this whirlpool, they each other chase Round and round, and neither find An outlet nor a resting-place! Stranger, if such disquietude be thine, Fall on thy knees and sue for help divine.

ODE

INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD

Composed 1803-6.--Published 1807

[This was composed during my residence at Town-end, Grasmere. Two years at least passed between the writing of the four first stanzas and the remaining part. To the attentive and competent reader the whole sufficiently explains itself; but there may be no harm in adverting here to particular feelings or _experiences_ of my own mind on which the structure of the poem partly rests. Nothing was more difficult for me in childhood than to admit the notion of death as a state applicable to my own being. I have said elsewhere--

A simple child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death!--

But it was not so much from feelings of animal vivacity that my difficulty came as from a sense of the indomitableness of the Spirit within me. I used to brood over the stories of Enoch and Elijah, and almost to persuade myself that, whatever might become of others, I should be translated, in something of the same way, to heaven. With a feeling congenial to this, I was often unable to think of external things as having external existence, and I communed with all that I saw as something not apart from, but inherent in, my own immaterial nature. Many times while going to school have I grasped at a wall or tree to recall myself from this abyss of idealism to the reality. At that time I was afraid of such processes. In later periods of life I have deplored, as we have all reason to do, a subjugation of an opposite character, and have rejoiced over the remembrances, as is expressed in the lines--

Obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings, etc.

To that dream-like vividness and splendour which invest objects of sight in childhood, every one, I believe, if he would look back, could bear testimony, and I need not dwell upon it here; but having in the poem regarded it as presumptive evidence of a prior state of existence, I think it right to protest against a conclusion, which has given pain to some good and pious persons, that I meant to inculcate such a belief. It is far too shadowy a notion to be recommended to faith, as more than an element in our instincts of immortality. But let us bear in mind that, though the idea is not advanced in revelation, there is nothing there to contradict it, and the fall of man presents an analogy in its favour. Accordingly, a pre-existent state has entered into the popular creeds of many nations; and, among all persons acquainted with classic literature, is known as an ingredient in Platonic philosophy. Archimedes said that he could move the world if he had a point whereon to rest his machine. Who has not felt the same aspirations as regards the world of his own mind?[310] Having to wield some of its elements when I was impelled to write this poem on the “Immortality of the Soul,” I took hold of the notion of pre-existence as having sufficient foundation in humanity for authorizing me to make for my purpose the best use of it I could as a poet.--I.F.]

The Child is Father of the Man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.[311]

I

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. 5 It is not now as it hath[312] been of yore;-- Turn wheresoe’er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

II

The Rainbow comes and goes, 10 And lovely is the Rose, The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare, Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; 15 The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where’er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.

III

Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young lambs bound 20 As to the tabor’s sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong: The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep; 25 No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay; Land and sea 30 Give themselves up to jollity, And with the heart of May Doth every Beast keep holiday;-- Thou Child of Joy, Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy! 35

IV

Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal,[313] 40 The fulness of your bliss, I feel--I feel it all.[314] Oh evil day! if I were sullen While Earth herself is adorning,[315] This sweet May-morning, And the Children are culling[316] 45 On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, And the Babe leaps up on his Mother’s arm:-- I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! 50 --But there’s a Tree, of many, one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone: The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat: 55 Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now,[317] the glory and the dream?

V

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, 60 And cometh from afar: Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home: 65 Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing Boy, But He beholds the light, and whence it flows He sees it in his joy; 70 The Youth, who daily farther from the east Must travel, still is Nature’s Priest, And by the vision splendid Is on his way attended; At length the Man perceives it[318] die away, 75 And fade into the light of common day.[319]

VI

Earth fills her lap with pleasures[320] of her own; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a Mother’s mind, And no unworthy aim, 80 The homely Nurse doth all she can To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came.

VII

Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, 85 A six years’ Darling[321] of a pigmy size! See, where ’mid work of his own hand he lies, Fretted by sallies of his mother’s kisses, With light upon him from his father’s eyes! See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, 90 Some fragment from his dream of human life, Shaped by himself with newly-learned art; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral; And this hath now his heart, 95 And unto this he frames his song: Then will he fit his tongue To dialogues of business, love, or strife; But it will not be long Ere this be thrown aside, 100 And with new joy and pride The little Actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his “humorous stage”[322] With all the Persons, down to palsied Age, That Life brings with her in her equipage; 105 As if his whole vocation Were endless imitation.

VIII

Thou, whose exterior semblance[323] doth belie Thy Soul’s immensity; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep 110 Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read’st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,-- Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest, 115 Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave;[324] Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the Day, a Master o’er a Slave, A Presence which is not to be put by;[325] 120 Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being’s height,[326] Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? 125 Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom[327] lie upon thee with a weight,[328] Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!

IX

O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, 130 That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive! The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction;[329] not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest; 135 Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:--[330] Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; 140 But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realised, 145 High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised: But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, 150 Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make[331] Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake, 155 To perish never; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy! 160 Hence in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, 165 And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.

X

Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song! And let the young Lambs bound As to the tabor’s sound! 170 We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts to-day Feel the gladness of the May! What though the radiance which was once so bright 175 Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; 180 In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, 185 In years that bring the philosophic mind.

XI

And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Forebode not any severing[332] of our loves! Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might; I only have relinquished one delight 190 To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet; 195 The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o’er man’s mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.[333] Thanks to the human heart by which we live, 200 Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, To me the meanest flower that blows[334] can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.[335]

This great _Ode_ was first printed as the last poem in the second volume of the edition of 1807. At that date Wordsworth gave it the simple title _Ode_, prefixing to it the motto, “Paulò majora canamus.” In 1815, when he revised the poem throughout, he named it--in the characteristic manner of many of his titles--diffuse and yet precise, _Ode. Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood_; and he then prefixed to it the lines of his own earlier poem on the Rainbow (March 1802):--

The Child is Father of the Man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.

It retained this longer title and motto in all subsequent editions. In the editions 1807 to 1820, it was placed by itself at the end of the poems, and formed their natural conclusion and climax. In the editions 1827 and 1832, it was inappropriately put amongst “Epitaphs and Elegiac Poems.” The evident mistake of placing it amongst these seems to have suggested to Wordsworth, in 1836, its having a place by itself,--which he gave it then and retained in the subsequent editions of 1842 and 1849,--when it closed the series of minor poems in Volume V., and preceded the _Excursion_ in Volume VI. The same arrangement was adopted in the double-columned single volume edition of 1845.

Mr. Aubrey de Vere has urged me to take it out of its chronological place, and let it conclude the whole series of Wordsworth’s poems, as the greatest, and that to which all others lead up. Mr. De Vere’s wish is based on conversations which he had with the poet himself.

The _Ode, Intimations of Immortality_, was written at intervals, between the years 1803 and 1806; and it was subjected to frequent and careful revision. No poem of Wordsworth’s bears more evident traces in its structure at once of inspiration and elaboration; of original flight of thought and _afflatus_ on the one hand, and on the other of careful sculpture and fastidious choice of phrase. But it is remarkable that there are very few changes of text in the successive editions. Most of the alterations were made before 1815, and the omission of some feeble lines which originally stood in stanza viii. in the editions of 1807 and 1815, was a great advantage in disencumbering the poem. The main revision and elaboration of this Ode, however--an elaboration which suggests the passage of the glacier ice over the rocks of White Moss Common, where the poem was murmured out stanza by stanza--was all finished before it first saw the light in 1807. In form it is irregular and original. And perhaps the most remarkable thing in its structure, is the frequent change of the keynote, and the skill and delicacy with which the transitions are made. “The feet throughout are iambic. The lines vary in length from the Alexandrine to the line with two accents. There is a constant ebb and flow in the full tide of song, but scarce two waves are alike.” (Hawes Turner, _Selections from Wordsworth_.)

In the “notes” to the _Selections_ just referred to on Immortality, there is an excellent commentary on this _Ode_, almost every line of which is worthy of minute analysis and study. Some of the following are suggested by Mr. Turner’s notes.

(1) _The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep._

The morning breeze blowing from the fields that were dark during the hours of sleep.

(2) --_But there’s a Tree, of many, one._

Compare Browning’s _May and Death_--

Only one little sight, one plant Woods have in May, etc.

(3) _The Pansy at my feet_ _Doth the same tale repeat._

French “Pensée.” “Pansies, that’s for thoughts.” Ophelia in _Hamlet_.

(4) _Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting._

This thought Wordsworth owed, consciously or unconsciously, to Plato. Though he tells us in the Fenwick note that he did not mean to _inculcate_ the belief, there is no doubt that he clung to the notion of a life pre-existing the present, on grounds similar to those on which he believed in a life to come. But there are some differences in the way in which the idea commended itself to Plato and to Wordsworth. The stress was laid by Wordsworth on the effect of terrestrial life in putting the higher faculties to sleep, and making us “forget the glories we have known.” Plato, on the other hand, looked upon the mingled experiences of mundane life as inducing a gradual but slow remembrance (ἀνάμνεσις) of the past. Compare Tennyson’s _Two Voices_, and Wordsworth’s sonnet, beginning--

Man’s life is like a sparrow, mighty king.

(5) _Filling from time to time his “humorous stage”_ _With all the Persons,_

_i.e._ with the _dramatis personæ_.

(6) … _thou Eye among the blind,_ _That, deaf and silent, read’st the eternal deep._

There is an admirable parallel illustration of Wordsworth’s use of this figure (describing one sense in terms of another), in the lines in _Airey-Force Valley_--

A soft eye-music of slow-waving boughs.

(7) _Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight,_ _And custom lie upon thee with a weight,_ _Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!_

Compare with this, the lines in the fourth book of _The Excursion_, beginning--

Alas! the endowment of immortal power Is matched unequally with custom, time.

(8) _Fallings from us, vanishings._

The outward sensible universe, visible and tangible, seeming to fall away from us, as unreal, to vanish in unsubstantially. See the explanation of this youthful experience in the Fenwick note. That confession of his boyish days at Hawkshead, “many times, while going to school, have I grasped at a wall or tree, _to recall myself from this abyss of idealism to the reality_” (by which he explains those--

Fallings from us, vanishings, etc.),

suggests a similar experience and confession of Cardinal Newman’s in his _Apologia_ (see p. 67).

The late Rev. Robert Perceval Graves, of Windermere, and afterwards of Dublin, wrote to me in 1850:--“I remember Mr. Wordsworth saying, that at a particular stage of his mental progress, he used to be frequently so rapt into an unreal transcendental world of ideas that the external world seemed no longer to exist in relation to him, and he _had to reconvince himself of its existence by clasping a tree, or something that happened to be near him_. I could not help connecting this fact with that obscure passage in his great _Ode on the Intimations of Immortality_, in which he speaks of--

Those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things; Fallings from us, vanishings; etc.”

Professor Bonamy Price further confirms the explanation which Wordsworth gave of the passage, in a letter written to me in 1881, giving an account of a conversation he had with the poet, as follows:--

“OXFORD, _April 21, 1881_.

“MY DEAR SIR,--You will be glad, I am sure, to receive an interpretation, which chance enabled me to obtain from Wordsworth himself of a passage in the immortal _Ode on Immortality_.…

“It happened one day that the poet, my wife, and I were taking a walk together by the side of Rydal Water. We were then by the sycamores under Nab Scar. The aged poet was in a most genial mood, and it suddenly occurred to me that I might, without unwarrantable presumption, seize the golden opportunity thus offered, and ask him to explain these mysterious words. So I addressed him with an apology, and begged him to explain, what my own feeble mother-wit was unable to unravel, and for which I had in vain sought the assistance of others, what were those ‘fallings from us, vanishings,’ for which, above all other things, he gave God thanks. The venerable old man raised his aged form erect; he was walking in the middle, and passed across me to a five-barred gate in the wall which bounded the road on the side of the lake. He clenched the top bar firmly with his right hand, pushed strongly against it, and then uttered these ever-memorable words: ‘There was a time in my life when I had to push against something that resisted, to be sure that there was anything outside of me. I was sure of my own mind; everything else fell away, and vanished into thought.’ Thought, he was sure of; matter for him, at the moment, was an unreality--nothing but a thought. Such natural spontaneous idealism has probably never been felt by any other man.

“BONAMY PRICE.”

This, however, was not an experience peculiar to Wordsworth, as Professor Price imagined--and its value would be much lessened if it had been so--but was one to which (as the poet said to Miss Fenwick) “every one, if he would look back, could bear testimony.”

The following is from S.T. Coleridge’s _Biographia Literaria_ (chap. xxii. p. 29, edition 1817)--

“To the _Ode on the Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood_, the poet might have prefixed the lines which Dante addresses to one of his own Canzoni--

Canzone, i’ credo, che saranno radi Color che tua ragione intendan bene: Tanto lor sei faticoso ed alto.

O lyric song, there will be few, think I, Who may thy import understand aright: Thou art for them so arduous and so high!

But the Ode was intended for such readers only as had been accustomed to watch the flux and reflux of their inmost nature, to venture at times into the twilight realms of consciousness, and to feel a deep interest in modes of inmost being, to which they know that the attributes of time and space are inapplicable and alien, but which yet cannot be conveyed, save in symbols of time and space. For such readers the sense is sufficiently plain, and they will be as little disposed to charge Mr. Wordsworth with believing the Platonic pre-existence in the ordinary interpretation of the words, as I am to believe, that Plato himself ever meant or taught it.

πολλά μοι ὑπ’ ἀγκῶνος ὠκέα βέλη ἔνδον ἐντὶ φαρέτρας φωνᾶντα συνετοῖσιν ἐς δὲ τὸ πᾶν ἑρμηνέων χατίζει. σοφὸς ὁ πολλὰ εἰδὼς φυᾷ. μαθόντες δὲ λάβροι παγγλωσσίᾳ, κόρακες ὥς, ἄκραντα γαρύετον Διὸς πρὸς ὄρνιχα θεῖον.

PINDAR, OLYMP. ii.”[336]

The following parallel passages from _The Excursion_, _The Prelude_, Ruskin’s _Modern Painters_, Keble’s _Praelectiones de Poeticae vi Medica_ (p. 788, Prael. xxxix.), and the _Silex Scintillans_ of Henry Vaughan, are quoted, in an interesting note to the _Ode_ on Immortality, in Professor Henry Reed’s American edition of the Poems (1851).

I

Ah! why in age Do we revert so fondly to the walks Of childhood--but that there the Soul discerns The dear memorial footsteps unimpaired Of her own native vigour--thence can hear Reverberations; and a choral song, Commingling with the incense that ascends, Undaunted, toward the imperishable heavens, From her own lonely altar?

_The Excursion_, book ix. ll. 36-44.

II

Our childhood sits, Our simple childhood, sits upon a throne That hath more power than all the elements. I guess not what this tells of Being past, Nor what it augurs of the life to come; etc.

_The Prelude_, book v. ll. 507-511.

III

“ … There was never yet the child of any promise (so far as the theoretic faculties are concerned) but awaked to the sense of beauty with the first gleam of reason; and I suppose there are few, among those who love Nature otherwise than by profession and at second-hand, who look not back to their youngest and least learned days as those of the most intense, superstitious, insatiable, and beatific perception of her splendours. And the bitter decline of this glorious feeling, though many note it not, partly owing to the cares and weight of manhood, which leave them not the time nor the liberty to look for their lost treasure, and partly to the human and divine affections which are appointed to take its place, yet have formed the subject, not indeed of lamentation, but of holy thankfulness for the witness it bears to the immortal origin and end of our nature, to one whose authority is almost without appeal in all questions relating to the influence of external things upon the pure human soul.

Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise But for those obstinate questionings, etc. etc.

And if it were possible for us to recollect all the unaccountable and happy instincts of the careless time, and to reason upon them with the maturer judgment, we might arrive at more right results than either the philosophy or the sophisticated practice of art has yet attained. But we love the perceptions before we are capable of methodising or comparing them.” (Ruskin’s _Modern Painters_, vol. ii. p. 36, part iii. ch. v. sec. i.)

“ … Etenim qui velit acutius indagare causas propensae in antiqua saecula voluntatis, mirum ni conjectura incidat aliquando in commentum illud Pythagorae, docentis, animarum nostrarum non tum fieri initium, cum in hoc mundo nascimur; immo ex ignota quadam regione venire eas, in sua quamque corpora; neque tam penitus Lethaeo potu imbui, quin permanet quasi quidam anteactae aetatis sapor; hunc autem excitari identidem, et nescio quo sensu percipi, tacito quidem illo et obscuro, sed percipi tamen. Atque hac ferme sententia extat summi hac memoria Poetae nobilissimum carmen; nempe non aliam ob causam tangi pueritiae recordationem exquisita illa ac pervagata dulcedine, quam propter debilem quendam prioris aevi Deique propioris sensum.

Quamvis autem hanc opinionem vix ferat divinae philosophiae ratio, fatemur tamen eam eatenus ad verum accedere, quo sanctum aliquod et grave tribuit memoriae et caritati puerilium annorum. Nosmet certe infantes novimus quam prope tetigerit Divina benignitas; quis porro scit, an omnis illa temporis anteacti dulcedo habeat quandam significationem Illius Praesentiae?” (Keble, _Praelectiones de Poeticae vi Medica_, p. 788, Prael. xxxix.)

“CORRUPTION

Sure, it was so. Man in those early days Was not all stone and earth; He shined a little, and by those weak rays, Had some glimpse of his birth. He saw Heaven o’er his head, and knew from whence He came condemned hither, And, as first Love draws strongest, so from hence His mind sure progressed thither.”

Henry Vaughan, _Silex Scintillans_.

Mr. Reed also quotes a passage from Vaughan’s poem _Childehood_; but a more apposite passage may be found in _The Retreate_, in _Silex Scintillans_.

Happy those early dayes, when I Shined in my Angell-infancy! Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy ought But a white celestiall thought; When yet I had not walkt above A mile or two from my first Love, And looking back, at that short space, Could see a glimpse of his bright face; When on some _gilded Cloud or Flowre_ My gazing soul would dwell an houre, And in those weaker glories spy Some shadows of eternity; … But felt through all this fleshly dresse Bright _shootes_ of everlastingnesse.

The extent of Wordsworth’s debt to Vaughan has been discussed a good deal. There was no copy of the _Silex Scintillans_ in the Rydal Mount sale-catalogue. I believe that he had read _The Retreate_, and forgotten it more completely perhaps than Coleridge forgot Sir John Davies’ _Orchestra, a Poem on Dancing_, when he wrote _The Ancient Mariner_.

The following may be added from _The Friend_ (the edition of 1818), vol. i. p. 183:--“To find no contradiction in the union of old and new to contemplate the Ancient of Days with feelings as fresh as if they then sprang forth at his own fiat, this characterizes the minds that feel the riddle of the world, and may help to unravel it! To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of manhood, to combine the child’s sense of wonder and novelty with the appearances which every day, for perhaps 40 years, had rendered familiar,

With sun and moon and stars throughout the year And man and woman----

This is the character and privilege of genius, and one of the marks which distinguish genius from talent.”--ED.

[310] Compare the Atman of the Vedanta Philosophy.--ED.

[311] See vol. ii. p. 292.--ED.

[312] 1820.

… has …

1807.

[313] Compare _The Idle Shepherd Boys_, ll. 28-30 (vol. ii. p. 138).--ED.

[314] 1807.

Even yet more gladness, I can hold it all.

MS.

[315] 1836.

While the Earth herself …

1807.

… itself …

1827.

The text of 1832 returns to that of 1807.

[316] 1836.

… pulling

1807.

[317]

Where is it gone, …

MS.

[318] 1807.

… beholds it …

MS.

[319] Compare, in Bacon’s Essay _Of Youth and Age_, “A certaine Rabbine upon the Text, _Your Young Men shall see visions, and your Old Men shall dream dreames_, inferreth that Young Men are admitted nearer to God than Old, because _Vision_ is a clearer Revelation than a Dreame.”

See Professor Max Müller’s note to his translation of the Upanishads (_Sacred Books of the East_, vol. xv. p. 164), beginning “Drivudagomga uses a curious argument in support of the existence of another world.”--ED.

[320] 1807.

… pleasure …

MS.

[321] 1815.

A four years’ Darling …

1807.

[322] See, in Daniel’s _Musophilus_, the introductory sonnet to Fulke Greville, l. 1.--ED.

[323] 1807.

… presence …

MS.

[324] This line is not in the editions of 1807 and 1815.

[325] The editions of 1807 and 1815 have, after “put by”:

To whom the grave Is but a lowly bed without the sense or sight Of day or the warm light, A place of thought where we in waiting lie;

MS.

The subsequent omission of these lines was due to Coleridge’s disapproval of them, expressed in _Biographia Literaria_.--ED.

[326] 1815.

Of untamed pleasures, on thy Being’s height,

1807.

[327] 1807.

The world upon thy noble nature seize With all its vanities, And custom …

MS.

[328] Compare _The Excursion_, book iv. ll. 205, 206--

Alas! the endowment of immortal power Is matched unequally with custom, time.

ED.

[329] 1827.

Perpetual benedictions: …

1807.

[330] 1815.

Of Childhood, whether fluttering or at rest, With new-born hope for ever in his breast:

1807.

[331] 1815.

Uphold us, cherish us, and make

1807.

[332] 1836.

Think not of any severing …

1807.

[333] Professor Dowden writes of this line: “It is a sunset reflection, natural to one who has ‘kept watch o’er man’s mortality’: the day is closing, as human lives have closed; the sun went forth out of his chamber as a strong man to run a race, and now the race is over and the palm has been won: all things have their hour of fulfilment.” (See vol. v. p. 365, of his edition of Wordsworth’s Poems.)--ED.

[334] Compare the introduction to the first canto of _Marmion_--

The vernal sun new life bestows Upon the meanest flower that blows,

ED.

[335] Compare Wither’s _The Shepherds Hunting_, the fourth eclogue, ll. 368-380.--ED.

[336] The text of Pindar, as given by S.T.C., is corrected in the above quotation.--ED.

POEMS BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH AND BY DOROTHY WORDSWORTH NOT INCLUDED IN THE EDITION OF 1849-50

1787

SONNET, ON SEEING MISS HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS WEEP AT A TALE OF DISTRESS[337]

She wept.--Life’s purple tide began to flow In languid streams through every thrilling vein; Dim were my swimming eyes--my pulse beat slow, And my full heart was swell’d to dear delicious pain.

Life left my loaded heart, and closing eye; 5 A sigh recall’d the wanderer to my breast; Dear was the pause of life, and dear the sigh That call’d the wanderer home, and home to rest.

That tear proclaims--in thee each virtue dwells, And bright will shine in misery’s midnight hour; 10 As the soft star of dewy evening tells What radiant fires were drown’d by day’s malignant pow’r, That only wait the darkness of the night To chear the wand’ring wretch with hospitable light.

AXIOLOGUS.

[European Magazine, 1787, vol. xi. p. 302.]

S.T.C. addressed some lines to Wordsworth under the name Axiologus. The following is a sample, sent to me by the late Mr. Dykes Campbell, _Ad Vilmum Axiologum_.--ED.[338]

AD VILMUM AXIOLOGUM

This be the meed, that thy song creates a thousand-fold echo! Sweet as the warble of woods, that awakes at the gale of the morning! List! the Hearts of the Pure, like caves in the ancient mountains Deep, deep _in_ the Bosom, and _from_ the Bosom resound it, Each with a different tone, complete or in musical fragments-- All have welcomed thy Voice, and receive and retain and prolong it!

This is the word of the Lord! it is spoken and Beings Eternal Live and are borne as an Infant, the Eternal begets the Immortal-- Love is the Spirit of Life, and Music the Life of the Spirit!

[337] The only justification for republishing this sonnet is that it is the earliest authoritative record of Wordsworth’s attempts in Verse. It is a much more authentic one than the _Extract from the conclusion of a Poem, composed in anticipation of leaving School_, or than the lines _Written in very early Youth_, and beginning

Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.

Wordsworth dated the former of these poems 1786, but I do not believe that he wrote that poem, and still less that he wrote “Calm is all nature,” etc., _as we now have it_, in that year. Doubtless he wrote verses on these two subjects; but the best evidence against the notion that the text, as we now have it, was written in 1786, is this 1787 sonnet on Miss Maria Williams. It is not only dated authoritatively, but it was _published_ in 1787; and therefore serves (as nothing else can until we come to 1793) as evidence in regard to the development of his poetic power. The translation of Francis Wrangham’s lines--which he called _The Birth of Love_--in 1795, is further evidence in the same direction. No doubt there were many poor poetic utterances by Wordsworth later in life--failures in his manhood, as dismal as the “Walford Tragedy” was in his youth--but I think that the _Lines written in very early Youth_, and the _Extract from the Poem composed in anticipation of leaving School_, were rehandled by him, and the text greatly improved before they were first published. The late Mr. J. Dykes Campbell wrote to me in 1892: “Poets tell dreadful fibs about their early verses--as witness S.T.C. who declared he wrote _The Advent of Love_ at fifteen! I _know_ he didn’t, and am going to print one or two of his prize school verses of that age, which I have found in his own fifteen-year-old fist.”--ED.

[338] I should add, in a footnote, that I have no knowledge of the source whence Mr. Campbell derived this; but I am sure that it must have reached him from an authentic one.--ED.

LINES WRITTEN BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH AS A SCHOOL EXERCISE AT HAWKSHEAD, ANNO ÆTATIS 14

In the “Autobiographical Memoranda”--dictated at Rydal Mount in 1847--Wordsworth said, “The first verses which I wrote were a task imposed by my master: the subject _The Summer Vacation_, and of my own accord I added others upon _Return to School_. There was nothing remarkable in either poem; but I was called upon, among other scholars, to write verses upon the completion of the second century from the foundation of the school in 1585, by Archbishop Sandys. These verses were much admired, far more than they deserved, for they were but a tame imitation of Pope’s versification, and a little in his style. This exercise, however, put it into my head to compose verses from the impulse of my own mind; and I wrote, while yet a schoolboy, a long poem running upon my own adventures, and the scenery of the county in which I was brought up.”

The _Summer Vacation_, and the _Return to School_, were destroyed by Wordsworth.--ED.

And has the Sun his flaming chariot driven Two hundred times around the ring of heaven, Since Science first, with all her sacred train, Beneath yon roof began her heavenly reign? While thus I mused, methought, before mine eyes, 5 The Power of EDUCATION seemed to rise; Not she whose rigid precepts trained the boy Dead to the sense of every finer joy; Nor that vile wretch who bade the tender age Spurn Reason’s law and humour Passion’s rage; 10 But she who trains the generous British youth In the bright paths of fair majestic Truth: Emerging slow from Academus’ grove In heavenly majesty she seem’d to move. Stern was her forehead, but a smile serene 15 “Soften’d the terrors of her awful mien.”[339] Close at her side were all the powers, design’d To curb, exalt, reform the tender mind: With panting breast, now pale as winter snows, Now flushed as Hebe, Emulation rose; 20 Shame follow’d after with reverted eye, And hue far deeper than the Tyrian dye; Last Industry appear’d with steady pace, A smile sat beaming on her pensive face. I gazed upon the visionary train, 25 Threw back my eyes, return’d, and gazed again. When lo! the heavenly goddess thus began, Through all my frame the pleasing accents ran.

When Superstition left the golden light And fled indignant to the shades of night; 30 When pure Religion rear’d the peaceful breast And lull’d the warring passions into rest, Drove far away the savage thoughts that roll In the dark mansions of the bigot’s soul, Enlivening Hope display’d her cheerful ray, 35 And beam’d on Britain’s sons a brighter day, So when on Ocean’s face the storm subsides, Hush’d are the winds and silent are the tides; The God of day, in all the pomp of light, Moves through the vault of heaven, and dissipates the night; 40 Wide o’er the main a trembling lustre plays, The glittering waves reflect the dazzling blaze; Science with joy saw Superstition fly Before the lustre of Religion’s eye; With rapture she beheld Britannia smile, 45 Clapp’d her strong wings, and sought the cheerful isle. The shades of night no more the soul involve, She sheds her beam, and, lo! the shades dissolve; No jarring monks, to gloomy cell confined, With mazy rules perplex the weary mind; 50 No shadowy forms entice the soul aside, Secure she walks, Philosophy her guide. Britain, who long her warriors had adored, And deemed all merit centred in the sword; Britain, who thought to stain the field was fame, 55 Now honour’d Edward’s less than Bacon’s name. Her sons no more in listed fields advance To ride the ring, or toss the beamy lance; No longer steel their indurated hearts To the mild influence of the finer arts; 60 Quick to the secret grotto they retire To court majestic truth, or wake the golden lyre; By generous Emulation taught to rise, The seats of learning brave the distant skies. Then noble Sandys, inspir’d with great design, 65 Rear’d Hawkshead’s happy roof, and call’d it mine; There have I loved to show the tender age The golden precepts of the classic page; To lead the mind to those Elysian plains Where, throned in gold, immortal Science reigns; 70 Fair to the view is sacred Truth display’d, In all the majesty of light array’d, To teach, on rapid wings, the curious soul To roam from heaven to heaven, from pole to pole, From thence to search the mystic cause of things 75 And follow Nature to her secret springs; Nor less to guide the fluctuating youth Firm in the sacred paths of moral truth, To regulate the mind’s disorder’d frame, And quench the passions kindling into flame; 80 The glimmering fires of Virtue to enlarge, And purge from Vice’s dross my tender charge. Oft have I said, the paths of Fame pursue, And all that virtue dictates, dare to do; Go to the world, peruse the book of man, 85 And learn from thence thy own defects to scan; Severely honest, break no plighted trust, But coldly rest not here--be more than just; Join to the rigours of the sires of Rome The gentler manners of the private dome; 90 When Virtue weeps in agony of woe, Teach from the heart the tender tear to flow; If Pleasure’s soothing song thy soul entice, Or all the gaudy pomp of splendid Vice, Arise superior to the Siren’s power, 95 The wretch, the short-lived vision of an hour; Soon fades her cheek, her blushing beauties fly, As fades the chequer’d bow that paints the sky, So shall thy sire, whilst hope his breast inspires, And wakes anew life’s glimmering trembling fires, 100 Hear Britain’s sons rehearse thy praise with joy, Look up to heaven, and bless his darling boy. If e’er these precepts quell’d the passions’ strife, If e’er they smooth’d the rugged walks of life, If e’er they pointed forth the blissful way 105 That guides the spirit to eternal day, Do thou, if gratitude inspire thy breast, Spurn the soft fetters of lethargic rest. Awake, awake! and snatch the slumbering lyre, Let this bright morn and Sandys the song inspire. 110

I look’d obedience: the celestial Fair Smiled like the morn, and vanished into air.

[339] This quotation I am unable to trace--ED.

1792 (or earlier)

“SWEET WAS THE WALK ALONG THE NARROW LANE”

This sonnet is found in one of Dorothy Wordsworth’s letters to her friend Miss Jane Polland, written from Forncett Rectory, on 6th May 1792. She wrote:--

“I promised to transcribe some of William’s compositions. As I made the promise I will give you a little sonnet, but all the same I charge you, as you value our friendship, not to read it, or to show it to any one--to your sister, or any other person.… I take the first that offers. It is only valuable to me because the lane which gave birth to it was the favourite evening walk of my dear William and me.” … “I have not chosen this sonnet because of any particular beauty it has; it was the first I laid my hands upon.”--ED.

Sweet was the walk along the narrow lane At noon, the bank and hedgerows all the way Shagged with wild pale green tufts of fragrant hay, Caught by the hawthorns from the loaded wain Which Age, with many a slow stoop, strove to gain; 5 And Childhood seeming still more busy, took His little rake with cunning sidelong look, Sauntering to pluck the strawberries wild unseen. _Now_ too, on melancholy’s idle dream Musing, the lone spot with my soul agrees 10 Quiet and dark; for through the thick-wove trees Scarce peeps the curious star till solemn gleams The clouded moon, and calls me forth to stray Through tall green silent woods and ruins grey.

“WHEN LOVE WAS BORN OF HEAVENLY LINE”

Composed 1795 (or earlier).--Published 1795

Translated from some French stanzas by Francis Wrangham, and Printed in _Poems by Francis Wrangham_, M.A., Member of Trinity College, Cambridge, London (1795), Sold by J. Mawman, 22 Poultry, pp. 106-111. In the edition of 1795, the original French lines are printed side by side with Wordsworth’s translation, which closes the volume.--ED.

When Love was born of heavenly line, What dire intrigues disturb’d Cythera’s joy! Till Venus cried, “A mother’s heart is mine; None but myself shall nurse my boy.”

But, infant as he was, the child 5 In that divine embrace enchanted lay; And, by the beauty of the vase beguiled, Forgot the beverage--and pined away.

“And must my offspring languish in my sight?” (Alive to all a mother’s pain, 10 The Queen of Beauty thus her court address’d) “No: Let the most discreet of all my train Receive him to her breast: Think all, he is the God of young delight.”

Then TENDERNESS with CANDOUR join’d, 15 And GAIETY the charming office sought; Nor even DELICACY stay’d behind: But none of those fair Graces brought Wherewith to nurse the child--and still he pined. Some fond hearts to COMPLIANCE seem’d inclined; 20 But she had surely spoil’d the boy: And sad experience forbade a thought On the wild Goddess of VOLUPTUOUS JOY.

Long undecided lay th’ important choice, Till of the beauteous court, at length, a voice 25 Pronounced the name of HOPE:--The conscious child Stretch’d forth his little arms, and smiled.[340]

’Tis said ENJOYMENT (who averr’d The charge belong’d to her alone) Jealous that HOPE had been preferr’d 30 Laid snares to make the babe her own.

Of INNOCENCE the garb she took, The blushing mien and downcast look; And came her services to proffer: And HOPE (what has not Hope believed!) 35 By that seducing air deceived, Accepted of the offer.

It happen’d that, to sleep inclined, Deluded HOPE for one short hour To that false INNOCENCE’S power 40 Her little charge consign’d.

The Goddess then her lap with sweetmeats fill’d And gave, in handfuls gave, the treacherous store: A wild delirium first the infant thrill’d; But soon upon her breast he sunk--to wake no more. 45

[340] Compare Gray’s _Progress of Poesy_, iii. I. 87--

The dauntless child Stretch’d forth his little arms, and smiled.

ED.

THE CONVICT

Composed (?).--Published 1798

The glory of evening was spread through the west; --On the slope of a mountain I stood, While the joy that precedes the calm season of rest Rang loud through the meadow and wood.

“And must we then part from a dwelling so fair?” 5 In the pain of my spirit I said, And with a deep sadness I turned, to repair To the cell where the convict is laid.

The thick-ribbed walls that o’ershadow the gate Resound; and the dungeons unfold: 10 I pause; and at length, through the glimmering grate, That outcast of pity behold.

His black matted hair on his shoulder is bent, And deep is the sigh of his breath, And with stedfast dejection his eyes are intent 15 On the fetters that link him to death.

’Tis sorrow enough on that visage to gaze, That body dismiss’d from his care; Yet my fancy has pierced to his heart, and pourtrays More terrible images there. 20

His bones are consumed, and his life-blood is dried, With wishes the past to undo; And his crime, through the pains that o’erwhelm him, descried, Still blackens and grows on his view.

When from the dark synod, or blood-reeking field, 25 To his chamber the monarch is led, All soothers of sense their soft virtue shall yield, And quietness pillow his head.

But if grief, self-consumed, in oblivion would doze, And conscience her tortures appease, 30 ’Mid tumult and uproar this man must repose, In the comfortless vault of disease.

When his fetters at night have so press’d on his limbs, That the weight can no longer be borne, If, while a half-slumber his memory bedims, 35 The wretch on his pallet should turn,

While the jail-mastiff howls at the dull clanking chain, From the roots of his hair there shall start A thousand sharp punctures of cold-sweating pain, And terror shall leap at his heart. 40

But now he half-raises his deep-sunken eye, And the motion unsettles a tear; The silence of sorrow it seems to supply, And asks of me why I am here.

“Poor victim! no idle intruder has stood 45 With o’erweening complacence our state to compare, But one, whose first wish is the wish to be good, Is come as a brother thy sorrows to share.

“At thy name though compassion her nature resign, Though in virtue’s proud mouth thy report be a stain, 50 My care, if the arm of the mighty were mine, Would plant thee where yet thou might’st blossom again.”

1798

“THE SNOW-TRACKS OF MY FRIENDS I SEE”

The following incomplete stanzas were evidently written when _The Complaint of a Forsaken Indian Woman_ was being composed. They were all discarded, but have a biographical interest. I assign them to the year 1798.--ED.

The snow-tracks of my friends I see, Their foot-marks do not trouble me, For ever left alone am I. Then wherefore should I fear to die? They to the last my friends did cherish 5 And to the last were good and kind, Methinks ’tis strange I did not perish The moment I was left behind.

Why do I watch those running deer? And wherefore, wherefore come they here? 10 And wherefore do I seem to love The things that live, the things that move? Why do I look upon the sky? I do not live for what I see. Why open thus mine eyes? To die 15 Is all that now is left for me, If I could smother up my heart My life would then at once depart. My friends, you live, and yet you seem To me the people of a dream; 20 A dream in which there is no love, And yet, my friends, you live and move.

When I could live without a pain, And feel no wish to be alive, In quiet hopelessness I sleep, 25 Alas! how quiet, and how deep!

Oh no! I do not, cannot rue, I did not strive to follow you. I might have dropp’d, and died alone On unknown snows, a spot unknown. 30 This spot to me must needs be dear, Of my dear friends I see the trace. You saw me, friends, you laid me here, You know where my poor bones shall be, Then wherefore should I fear to die? 35 Alas that one beloved, forlorn, Should lie beneath the cold starlight! With them I think I could have borne The journey of another night, And with my friends now far away 40 I could have lived another day.

THE OLD CUMBERLAND BEGGAR

MS. Variants, not inserted in Vol. I.

(l. 3) On a small pile of humble masonry Placed at the foot of …

(l. 24) He travels on, a solitary man. His age has no companion. He is weak, So helpless in appearance that, for him The sauntering horseman-traveller does not throw With careless hand his pence upon the ground But stops that he may lodge the coin Safe in the old man’s hat: nor quits him so, But as he goes towards him turns a look Sidelong and half-reverted.…

1800

ANDREW JONES

Composed 1800.--Published 1800

_Andrew Jones_ was included in the “Lyrical Ballads” of 1800, 1802, 1805, and in the Poems of 1815. It was also printed in _The Morning Post_, February 10, 1801. It was not republished after 1815. With this poem compare _The Old Cumberland Beggar_.--ED.

I hate that Andrew Jones; he’ll breed His children up to waste and pillage. I wish the press-gang or the drum Would with its rattling music come,[341] And sweep him from the village! 5

I said not this, because he loves Through the long day to swear and tipple; But for the poor dear sake of one To whom a foul deed he had done, A friendless man, a travelling cripple! 10 For this poor crawling helpless wretch Some horseman who was passing by,[342] A penny on the ground had thrown; But the poor cripple was alone And could not stoop--no help was nigh. 15

Inch-thick the dust lay on the ground For it had long been droughty weather; So with his staff the cripple wrought Among the dust till he had brought The half-pennies together. 20

It chanced that Andrew passed that way Just at the time; and there he found The cripple in the mid-day heat Standing alone, and at his feet He saw the penny on the ground. 25

He stooped and took the penny up:[343] And when the cripple nearer drew, Quoth Andrew, “Under half-a-crown, What a man finds is all his own, And so, my friend, good-day to you.” 30

And _hence_ I said, that Andrew’s boys Will all be trained to waste and pillage: And wished the press-gang, or the drum Would with its rattling music come,[344] And sweep him from the village! 35

[341] 1815.

With its tantara sound would come,

1800.

[342]

It chanc’d some Traveller passing by,

MS.

[343] In the text of 1800, this line is, “He stopped and took the penny up,” but in the list of _errata_, “stooped” is substituted for “stopped.”--ED.

[344] 1815.

With its tantara sound would come

1800.

“THERE IS A SHAPELESS CROWD OF UNHEWN STONES”

Numerous fragments of verse, more or less unfinished, occur in the Grasmere Journals, written by Dorothy Wordsworth. One of these--which is broken up into irregular fragments, and very incomplete--is evidently part of the material which was written about the old Cumbrian shepherd Michael. The successive alterations of the text of the poem _Michael_ are in the Grasmere Journal. These fragments have a special topographical interest, from their description of Helvellyn, and its spring, the fountain of the mists, and the stones on the summit. On the outside leather cover of the MS. book there is written, “May to Dec. 1802.”

The following lines come first:--

There is a shapeless crowd of unhewn stones[345] That lie together, some in heaps, and some In lines, that seem to keep themselves alive In the last dotage of a dying form. At least so seems it to a man who stands In such a lonely place.

These are followed by a few lines, some of which were afterwards used in _The Prelude_ (see vol. iii. p. 269):--

Shall he who gives his days to low pursuits, Amid the undistinguishable crowd Of cities, ’mid the same eternal flow Of the same objects, melted and reduced To one identity, by differences That have no law, no meaning, and no end, Shall he feel yearning to those lifeless forms, And shall we think that Nature is less kind To those, who all day long, through a long life, Have walked within her sight? It cannot be.

Mary Wordsworth, Dorothy Wordsworth, William Wordsworth. Sat. Eve., 20 past 6, May 29.

Other fragments follow, less worthy of preservation. Then the passage, which occurs in book xiii. of _The Prelude_, beginning--

There are who think that strong affection, love,

(see vol. iii. p. 361), with one or two variations from the final text, which were not improvements.

Five lines on Helvellyn, afterwards included in the _Musings near Aquapendente_ (see vol. viii. p. 47, ll. 61-65), come next.

The fragments referring to _Michael_ are written down, probably just as the brother dictated them to his sister, and would be--if not unintelligible--certainly without any literary connection or unity, were they printed in the order in which they occur. I therefore transpose them slightly, to give something like continuity to the whole; which remains, of course, a torso.

I will relate a tale for those who love To lie beside the lonely mountain brooks, And hear the voices of the winds and flowers. … … It befell At the first falling of the autumnal snows, Old Michael and his son one day went forth In search of a stray sheep. It was the time When from the heights our shepherds drive their flocks To gather all their mountain family Into the homestalls, ere they send them back There to defend themselves the winter long. Old Michael for this purpose had driven down His flock into the vale, but as it chanced, A single sheep was wanting. They had sought The straggler during all the previous day All over their own pastures, and beyond. And now at sunrise, sallying forth again Far did they go that morning: with their search Beginning towards the south, where from Dove Crag (Ill home for bird so gentle), they looked down On Deep-dale-head, and Brothers water (named From those two Brothers that were drowned therein); Thence northward did they pass by Arthur’s seat,[346] And Fairfield’s highest summit, on the right Leaving St. Sunday’s Crag, to Grisdale tarn They shot, and over that cloud-loving hill, Seat-Sandal, a fond lover of the clouds; Thence up Helvellyn, a superior mount, With prospect underneath of Striding edge, And Grisdale’s houseless vale, along the brink Of Sheep-cot-cove, and those two other coves, Huge skeletons of crags which from the coast Of old Helvellyn spread their arms abroad And make a stormy harbour for the winds. Far went these shepherds in their devious quest, From mountain ridges peeping as they passed Down into every nook; … … and many a sheep On height or bottom[347] did they see, in flocks Or single. And although it needs must seem Hard to believe, yet could they well discern Even at the utmost distance of two miles (Such strength of vision to the shepherd’s eye Doth practice give) that neither in the flocks Nor in the single sheep was what they sought. So to Helvellyn’s eastern side they went, Down looking on that hollow, where the pool Of Thirlmere flashes like a warrior’s shield His light high up among the gloomy rocks, With sight of now and then a straggling gleam On Armath’s[348] pleasant fields. And now they came, To that high spring which bears no human name, As one unknown by others, aptly called The fountain of the mists. The father stooped To drink of the clear water, laid himself Flat on the ground, even as a boy might do, To drink of the cold well. When in like sort His son had drunk, the old man said to him That now he might be proud, for he that day Had slaked his thirst out of a famous well, The highest fountain known on British land. Thence, journeying on a second time, they passed Those small flat stones, which, ranged by traveller’s hands In cyphers on Helvellyn’s highest ridge, Lie loose on the bare turf, some half-o’ergrown By the grey moss, but not a single stone Unsettled by a wanton blow from foot Of shepherd, man or boy. They have respect For strangers who have travelled far perhaps, For men who in such places, feeling there The grandeur of the earth, have left inscribed Their epitaph, which rain and snow And the strong wind have reverenced. … But soon as Luke, full ten years old, could stand Against the mountain blasts, and to the heights Not fearing toil, nor length of weary ways, He with his Father daily went, and they Were as companions, why should I relate That objects which the shepherd lov’d before Were dearer now? that from the Boy there came Feelings and emanations, things which were Light to the sun and music to the wind; And that the old man’s heart seem’d born again? Thus in his Father’s sight the Boy grew up; And now when he had reached his eighteenth year, He was his comfort and his daily hope. … Though often thus industriously they passed[349] Whole hours with but small interchange of speech, Yet were there times in which they did not want Discourse both wise and pleasant,[350] shrewd remarks Of moral prudence,[351] clothed in images Lively and beautiful, in rural forms, That made their conversation fresh and fair As is a landscape; and the shepherd oft Would draw out of his heart the mysteries[352] And admirations that were there, of God And of his works: or, yielding to the bent Of his peculiar humour, would let loose His tongue, and give it the wind’s freedom; then, Discoursing on remote imaginations, strong Conceits, devices, plans, and schemes,[353] Of alterations human hands might make Among the mountains, fens which might be drained, Mines opened, forests planted, and rocks split, The fancies of a solitary man.[354] Not with a waste of words, but for the sake Of pleasure which I know that I shall give To many living now, have I described Old Michael’s manners and discourse, and thus Minutely spoken of that aged Lamp Round which the Shepherd and his household sate --The light was famous in the neighbourhood And was a public symbol …

Then follow four pages of Dorothy Wordsworth’s Journal (May 4th and 5th, 1802); and then, irregularly written, and with numerous erasures, the remainder of these unpublished lines.

… At length the boy Said, “Father, ’tis lost labour; with your leave I will go back and range a second time The grounds which we have hunted through before.” So saying, homeward, down the hill the boy Sprang like a gust of wind: [and with a heart Brimful of glory said within himself, “I know where I shall find him, though the storm Have driven him twenty miles.” For ye must know][355] that though the storm Drive one of those poor creatures miles and miles, If he can crawl, he will return again To his own hills, the spots where when a lamb He learned to pasture at his mother’s side. Bethinking him of this, again the boy Pursued his way toward a brook, whose course Was through that unfenced tract of mountain ground Which to his father’s little farm belonged, The home and ancient birthright of their flock. Down the deep channel of the stream he went, Prying through every nook. Meanwhile the rain Began to fall upon the mountain tops, Thick storm, and heavy, which for three hours’ space Abated not; and all that time the boy Was busy in his search, until at length He spied the sheep upon a plot of grass, An island in the brook. It was a place Remote and deep, piled round with rocks, where foot Of man or beast was seldom used to tread. But now, when everywhere the summer grass Began to fail, this sheep by hunger pressed Had left his fellows, made his way alone To the green plot of pasture in the brook. Before the boy knew well what he had seen He leapt upon the island, with proud heart, And with a shepherd’s joy. Immediately The sheep sprang forward to the further shore, And was borne headlong by the roaring flood. At this the boy looked round him, and his heart Fainted with fear. Thrice did he turn his face To either bank, nor could he summon up The courage that was needful to leap back ’Cross the tempestuous torrent; so he stood A prisoner on the island, not without More than one thought of death, and his last hour. Meantime the father had returned alone To his own home, and now at the approach Of evening he went forth to meet his son, Nor could he guess the cause for which the boy Had stayed so long. The shepherd took his way Up his own mountain grounds, where, as he walked Along the steep that overhung the brook, He seemed to hear a voice, which was again Repeated, like the whistling of a kite. At this, not knowing why--as often-times The old man afterwards was heard to say-- Down to the brook he went, and tracked its course Upwards among the o’erhanging rocks; nor Had he gone far ere he espied the boy Right in the middle of the roaring stream. Without distress or fear the shepherd heard The outcry of his son: he stretched his staff Towards him, bade him leap, which word scarce said The boy was safe.… …

Of Michael it is said--

No doubt if you in terms direct had asked Whether he loved the mountains, true it is That with blunt repetition of your words He might have stared at you, and said that they Were frightful to behold, but had you then Discoursed with him … Of his own business, and the goings on Of earth and sky, then truly had you seen That in his thoughts there were obscurities, Wonder, and admiration, things that wrought Not less than a religion in his heart. And if it was his fortune to converse With any who could talk of common things In an unusual way, and give to them Unusual aspects, or by questions apt Wake sudden recognitions, that were like Creations in the mind (and were indeed Creations often), then when he discoursed Of mountain sights, this untaught shepherd stood Before the man with whom he so conversed And looked at him as with a poet’s eye. But speaking of the vale in which he dwelt, And those bare rocks, if you had asked if he For other pastures would exchange the same And dwell elsewhere, … … you then had seen At once what spirit of love was in his heart. … I have related that this Shepherd loved The fields and mountains, not alone for this That from his very childhood he had lived Among them, with a body hale and stout, And with a vigorous mind … … But exclude Such reasons, and he had less cause to love His native vale and patrimonial fields Than others have, for Michael had liv’d on Childless, until the time when he began To look towards the shutting in of life.

In this MS. book there are also some of the original stanzas of _Ruth_, with a few variations of text.--ED.

[345] Compare the first line of those _Written with a Slate Pencil upon a Stone, the largest of a Heap lying near a deserted Quarry, upon one of the Islands at Rydal_, vol. ii. p. 63.--ED.

[346] Stone Arthur. See, in the “Poems on the Naming of Places,” the one beginning--

There is an Eminence,

ED.

[347] Bottom is a common Cumbrian word for valley.--ED.

[348] Armboth, on the western side of Thirlmere.--ED.

[349] Though in these occupations they would pass†

[350] … prudent, …†

[351] Of daily Providence …†

[352] … obscurities†

[353] Day-dreams, thoughts, and schemes.†

† These variants occur in a letter of Dorothy Wordsworth to Thomas Poole.--ED.

[354] All doubt as to these fragments being originally intended to form part of _Michael_ is set at rest by a letter from Wordsworth to Thomas Poole, of Nether Stowey, written from Grasmere on the 9th of April 1801, in which he gives first some new lines to be added to _Michael_, at pp. 210 and 211 of vol. ii. of the “Lyrical Ballads” (ed. 1800); to which letter Dorothy Wordsworth added the postscript, “My brother has written the following lines, to be inserted page 206, after the ninth line--

Murmur as with the sound of summer flies;”

and then follow--

Though in these occupations they would pass Whole hours, etc.

as printed above.

Dorothy Wordsworth adds, “Tell whether you think the insertion of these lines an improvement.”--ED.

[355] An erased version.--ED.

1802

“AMONG ALL LOVELY THINGS MY LOVE HAD BEEN”

Composed April 12, 1802.--Published 1807

This poem--known in the Wordsworth household as _The Glowworm_--was written on the 12th of April 1802, during a ride from Middleham to Barnard Castle, and was published in the edition of 1807. It was never reproduced. The “Lucy” of this and other poems was his sister Dorothy. In a letter to Coleridge, written in April 1802, he thus refers to the poem, and to the incident which gave rise to it:--“I parted from M---- on Monday afternoon, about six o’clock, a little on this side Rushyford. Soon after I missed my road in the midst of the storm.… Between the beginning of Lord Darlington’s park at Raby, and two or three miles beyond Staindrop, I composed the poem the opposite page. I reached Barnard Castle about half-past ten.… The incident of this poem took place about seven years ago between my sister and me.”

I think it probable that the “incident” occurred near Racedown, Dorsetshire, where, in the autumn of 1795 Wordsworth settled with his sister. The following is Dorothy’s account of the composition of the poem:--“Tuesday, April 20, 1802.--We sate in the orchard and repeated _The Glowworm_, and other poems. Just when William came to a well, or trough, which there is in Lord Darlington’s park, he began to write that poem of _The Glowworm_; interrupted in going through the town of Staindrop, finished it about two miles and a-half beyond Staindrop. He did not feel the jogging of the horse while he was writing; but, when he had done, he felt the effect of it.… So much for _The Glowworm_. It was written coming from Middleham, on Monday, April 12, 1802.”--ED.

Among all lovely things my Love had been; Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew About her home; but she had never seen A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew.

While riding near her home one stormy night 5 A single glow-worm did I chance to espy; I gave a fervent welcome to the sight, And from my horse I leapt; great joy had I.

Upon a leaf the glow-worm did I lay, To bear it with me through the stormy night: 10 And, as before, it shone without dismay; Albeit putting forth a fainter light.

When to the dwelling of my Love I came, I went into the orchard quietly; And left the glow-worm, blessing it by name, 15 Laid safely by itself, beneath a tree.

The whole next day I hoped, and hoped with fear; At night the glow-worm shone beneath the tree; I led my Lucy to the spot, “Look here,” Oh! joy it was for her, and joy for me! 20

“ALONG THE MAZES OF THIS SONG I GO”

This, and the next two fragments, by Wordsworth, are extracted from his sister’s Grasmere Journal.--ED.

Along the mazes of this song I go As inward motions of the wandering thought Lead me, or outward circumstance impels. Thus do I urge a never-ending way Year after year, with many a sleep between, Through joy and sorrow; if my lot be joy More joyful if it be with sorrow sooth’d.

“THE RAINS AT LENGTH HAVE CEAS’D, THE WINDS ARE STILL’D”

The rains at length have ceas’d, the winds are still’d, The stars shine brightly between clouds at rest, And as a cavern is with darkness fill’d, The vale is by a mighty sound possess’d

“WITNESS THOU”

Witness thou The dear companion of my lonely walk, My hope, my joy, my sister, and my friend, Or something dearer still, if reason knows A dearer thought, or in the heart of love There be a dearer name.[356]

[356] Compare Byron’s _Epistle to Augusta_--

My sister! my sweet sister! if a name Dearer and purer were, it should be thine.

It is a mere coincidence, as Byron could not have seen the Wordsworth MS.--ED.

WILD-FOWL

The order’d troops In spiral circles mount aloft, and soar In prospect far above the denser air That hangs o’er the moist plain. Again they view The glorious sun, and while the light of day Still gleams upon their polish’d plumes--the bright Sonorous squadrons sing their evening hymn.

WRITTEN IN A GROTTO

Published in _The Morning Post_, March 9, 1802

I cannot affirm, with any certainty, that these lines were written by Wordsworth; but I agree with Mr. Ernest Coleridge in thinking that they were. He showed them to his relative--the late Chief Justice--who said that he did not know who else _could_ have written them, at that time. Lord Coleridge said the same to myself.--ED.

O moon! if e’er I joyed when thy soft light Danc’d to the murmuring rill on Lomond’s wave, Or sighed for thy sweet presence some dark night When thou wert hidden in thy monthly grave,[357] If e’er on wings which active fancy gave 5 I sought thy golden vale with dancing flight Then stretcht at ease in some sequestered cave Gaz’d on thy lovely Nymphs with fond delight, Thy Nymphs with more than earthly beauty bright, If e’er thy beam, as Smyrna’s shepherds tell, 10 Soft as the gentle kiss of amorous maid On the closed eye of young Endymion fell[358] That he might wake to clasp thee in the shade, Each night while I recline within this cell Guide hither, O sweet Moon, the maid I love so well. 15

The shepherds of Smyrna show a cave, where, as they say, Luna descended to Endymion, laid on a bed under a large oak which was the scene of their loves. See Chandler’s _Travels in Asia Minor_.

[357] Compare _To the Moon_, vol. viii. p. 15, l. 64.--ED.

[358] Compare, in the “Evening Voluntaries,” _To Lucca Giordano_ (1846), p. 183.--ED.

HOME AT GRASMERE

The canto of Wordsworth’s autobiographical poem, unpublished in _The Prelude_ (1851), and first given to the world in 1888, is appropriately entitled “Home at Grasmere.”

The introduction to _The Recluse_ was not only kept back by him during his lifetime, but was omitted by his representatives--with what must be regarded as true critical insight--when _The Prelude_ was published in 1850. As a whole, it is not equal to _The Prelude_. Certain passages are very inferior, but there are others that posterity must cherish, and “not willingly let die.” It was probably a conviction of its inequality and inferiority that led Wordsworth to give only one or two selected extracts from this canto to the world, in his own lifetime. Two passages were printed in his _Guide to the District of the Lakes_; another--a description of the flight and movement of birds--was published in 1827, and subsequent editions, under the title of _Water-Fowl_; while the Bishop of Lincoln published other two passages in the _Memoirs_ of his uncle, beginning respectively--

On Nature’s invitation do I come,

and

Bleak season was it, turbulent and bleak.

Internal evidence (see the numerous allusions to Dorothy, and the reference to John Wordsworth) shows that this canto of _The Recluse_ was written at Grasmere, not long after Wordsworth’s arrival there, and certainly before his marriage. The text, as now printed, has been carefully compared with the original MS. by Mr. Gordon Wordsworth. The MS. heading is--THE RECLUSE. BOOK FIRST, PART FIRST.

HOME AT GRASMERE

Once to the verge of yon steep barrier came A roving school-boy; what the Adventurer’s age Hath now escaped his memory--but the hour, One of a golden summer holiday, He well remembers, though the year be gone. 5 Alone and devious from afar he came; And, with a sudden influx overpowered At sight of this seclusion, he forgot His haste, for hasty had his footsteps been As boyish his pursuits; and, sighing said, 10 “What happy fortune were it here to live! And, (if a thought of dying, if a thought Of mortal separation, could intrude With paradise before him), here to die!” No prophet was he, had not even a hope, 15 Scarcely a wish, but one bright pleasing thought, A fancy in the heart of what might be The lot of others, never could be his. The station whence he looked was soft and green, Not giddy yet aerial, with a depth 20 Of vale below, a height of hills above. For rest of body, perfect was the spot, All that luxurious nature could desire, But stirring to the spirit. Who could gaze And not feel motions there? He thought of clouds 25 That sail on winds, of breezes that delight To play on water, or in endless chase Pursue each other through the yielding plain Of grass or corn, over and through and through, In billow after billow, evermore 30 Disporting. Nor unmindful was the Boy Of sunbeams, shadows, butterflies and birds, Of fluttering Sylphs, and softly-gliding Fays, Genii, and winged Angels that are Lords Without restraint of all which they behold. 35 The illusion strengthening as he gazed, he felt That such unfettered liberty was his, Such power and joy; but only for this end, To flit from field to rock, from rock to field, From shore to island, and from isle to shore, 40 From open ground to covert, from a bed Of meadow-flowers into a tuft of wood, From high to low, from low to high, yet still Within the bound of this high concave; here Must be his home, this Valley be his world. 45 Since that day forth the place to him--_to me_ (For I who live to register the truth Was that same young and happy being) became As beautiful to thought, as it had been, When present, to the bodily sense; a haunt 50 Of pure affections, shedding upon joy A brighter joy; and through such damp and gloom Of the gay mind, as ofttimes splenetic youth Mistakes for sorrow darting beams of light That no self-cherished sadness could withstand: 55 And now ’tis mine, perchance for life, dear Vale, Beloved Grasmere (let the Wandering Streams Take up, the cloud-capped hills repeat, the Name), One of thy lowly dwellings is my Home. And was the cost so great? and could it seem 60 An act of courage, and the thing itself A conquest? who must bear the blame? sage man Thy prudence, thy experience--thy desires; Thy apprehensions--blush thou for them all. Yes, the realities of life so cold, 65 So cowardly, so ready to betray, So stinted in the measure of their grace As we pronounce them, doing them much wrong, Have been to me more bountiful than hope, Less timid than desire--but that is passed. 70 On Nature’s invitation do I come,[359] By reason sanctioned--Can the choice mislead, That made the calmest, fairest spot of earth, With all its unappropriated good, My own; and not mine only, for with me 75 Entrenched, say rather peacefully embowered, Under yon orchard, in yon humble cot, A younger orphan of a home extinct, The only daughter of my parents, dwells. Aye, think on that, my heart, and cease to stir, 80 Pause upon that, and let the breathing frame No longer breathe, but all be satisfied. --Oh if such silence be not thanks to God For what hath been bestowed, then where, where then Shall gratitude find rest? Mine eyes did ne’er 85 Fix on a lovely object, nor my mind Take pleasure in the midst of happy thoughts, But either She whom now I have, who now Divides with me this loved abode, was there, Or not far off. Where’er my footsteps turned, 90 Her Voice was like a hidden Bird that sang, The thought of her was like a flash of light, Or an _unseen_ companionship, a breath, Or fragrance independent of the wind. In all my goings, in the new and old 95 Of all my meditations, and in this Favourite of all, in this the most of all. --What Being, therefore, since the birth of man Had ever more abundant cause to speak Thanks, and if favours of the heavenly Muse 100 Make him more thankful, then to call on verse To aid him, and in Song resound his joy. The boon is absolute; surpassing grace To me hath been vouchsafed; among the bowers Of blissful Eden this was neither given, 105 Nor could be given, possession of the good Which had been sighed for, ancient thought fulfilled And dear Imaginations realized Up to their highest measure, yea and more. Embrace me then, ye Hills, and close me in, 110 Now in the clear and open day I feel Your guardianship; I take it to my heart; ’Tis like the solemn shelter of the night. But I would call thee beautiful, for mild And soft, and gay, and beautiful thou art, 115 Dear Valley, having in thy face a smile Though peaceful, full of gladness. Thou art pleased, Pleased with thy crags, and woody steeps, thy Lake, Its one green Island and its winding shores; The multitude of little rocky hills, 120 Thy Church and cottages of mountain stone Clustered like stars some few, but single most, And lurking dimly in their shy retreats, Or glancing at[360] each other cheerful looks, Like separated stars with clouds between. 125 What want we? have we not perpetual streams, Warm woods, and sunny hills, and fresh green fields, And mountains not less green, and flocks, and herds, And thickets full of songsters, and the voice Of lordly birds, an unexpected sound 130 Heard now and then from morn till latest eve, Admonishing the man who walks below Of solitude, and silence in the sky? These have we, and a thousand nooks of earth Have also these, but _no_ where else is found, 135 No where (or is it fancy?) _can_ be found The one sensation that is here; ’tis here, Here as it found its way into my heart In childhood, here as it abides by day, By night, here only; or in chosen minds 140 That take it with them hence, where’er they go. ’Tis, but I cannot name it, ’tis the sense Of majesty, and beauty, and repose, A blended holiness of earth and sky, Something that makes this individual Spot, 145 This small abiding-place of many men, A termination, and a last retreat, A centre, come from wheresoe’er you will, A whole without dependence or defect, Made for itself; and happy in itself, 150 Perfect Contentment, Unity entire. Bleak season was it, turbulent and bleak,[361] When hitherward we journeyed, side by side, Through bursts of sunshine and through flying showers, Paced the long Vales--how long they were--and yet 155 How fast that length of way was left behind, Wensley’s rich Vale and Sedbergh’s naked heights. The frosty wind, as if to make amends For its keen breath, was aiding to our steps, And drove us onward like two ships at sea, 160 Or like two birds, companions in mid air, Parted and re-united by the blast. Stern was the face of Nature. We rejoiced In that stern countenance, for our souls thence drew A feeling of their strength. The naked trees, 165 The icy brooks, as on we passed, appeared To question us. “Whence come ye? to what end?” They seemed to say; “What would ye,” said the shower, “Wild wanderers, whither through my dark domain?” The sunbeam said, “Be happy.” When this Vale 170 We entered, bright and solemn was the sky That faced us with a passionate welcoming, And led us to our threshold. Daylight failed Insensibly, and round us gently fell Composing darkness, with a quiet load 175 Of full contentment, in a little shed Disturbed, uneasy in itself as seemed, And wondering at its new inhabitants. It loves us now, this Vale so beautiful Begins to love us! By a sullen storm, 180 Two months unwearied of severest storm, It put the temper of our minds to proof, And found us faithful through the gloom, and heard The Poet mutter his prelusive songs With cheerful heart, an unknown voice of joy, 185 Among the silence of the woods and hills; Silent to any gladsomeness of sound With all their Shepherds. But the gates of Spring Are opened. Churlish Winter hath given leave That she should entertain for this one day, 190 Perhaps for many genial days to come, His guests, and make them jocund. They are pleased, But most of all the Birds that haunt the flood With the mild summons; inmates though they be Of winter’s household, they keep festival 195 This day, who drooped, or seemed to droop, so long; They shew their pleasure, and shall I do less? Happiest of happy though I be, like them I cannot take possession of the sky, Mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there, 200 One of a mighty multitude, whose way Is a perpetual harmony, and dance Magnificent. Behold, how with a grace Of ceaseless motion,[362] that might scarcely seem Inferior to angelical, they prolong 205 Their curious pastime, shaping in mid air, And sometimes with ambitious wing that soars High as the level of the mountain tops, A circuit ampler than the lake beneath, Their own domain;--but ever, while intent 210 On tracing and retracing that large round, Their jubilant activity evolves Hundreds of curves and circlets, to and fro, Upwards and downwards, progress intricate Yet unperplexed, as if one spirit swayed 215 Their indefatigable flight. ’Tis done-- Ten times and more, I fancied it had ceased; But lo! the vanished company again Ascending, they approach--I hear their wings Faint, faint at first; and then an eager sound 220 Passed in a moment--and as faint again! They tempt the sun to sport among[363] their plumes; Tempt the smooth water,[364] or the gleaming ice, To show them a fair image; ’tis themselves, Their own fair forms, upon the glimmering plain, 225 Painted more soft and fair as they descend, Almost to touch;--then up again aloft, Up with a sally, and a flash of speed, As if they scorned both resting-place and rest![365] This day is a thanksgiving, ’tis a day 230 Of glad emotion and deep quietness; Not upon me alone hath been bestowed, Me rich in many onward-looking thoughts, The penetrating bliss; oh surely these Have felt it, not the happy Quires of Spring, 235 Her own peculiar family of love That sport among green leaves, a blither train. But two are missing--two, a lonely pair Of milk-white Swans, wherefore are _they_ not seen Partaking this day’s pleasure? From afar 240 They came, to sojourn here in solitude, Choosing this Valley, they who had the choice Of the whole world.[366] We saw them day by day, Through these two months of unrelenting storm, Conspicuous at the centre of the Lake, 245 Their safe retreat. We knew them well, I guess That the whole Valley knew them; but to us They were more dear than may be well believed, Not only for their beauty, and their still And placid way of life, and constant love 250 Inseparable, not for these alone, But that _their_ state so much resembled ours, They having also chosen this abode; They strangers, and we strangers; they a pair, And we a solitary pair like them. 255 They should not have departed; many days Did I look forth in vain, nor on the wing Could see them, nor in that small open space Of blue unfrozen water, where they lodged, And lived so long in quiet, side by side. 260 Shall we behold them, consecrated friends, Faithful companions, yet another year Surviving--they for us, and we for them-- And neither pair be broken? Nay perchance It is too late already for such hope, 265 The Dalesmen may have aimed the deadly tube, And parted them; or haply both are gone One death, and that were mercy given to both. Recal my song the ungenerous thought; forgive, Thrice favoured Region, the conjecture harsh 270 Of such inhospitable penalty, Inflicted upon confidence so pure. Ah, if I wished to follow where the sight Of all that is before mine eyes, the voice Which speaks from a presiding Spirit here, 275 Would lead me, I should whisper to myself; They who are dwellers in this holy place Must needs themselves be hallowed, they require No benediction from the stranger’s lips, For they are blest already. None would give 280 The greeting “peace be with you” unto them, For peace they have, it cannot but be theirs, And mercy, and forbearance. Nay--not these, Their healing offices a pure goodwill Precludes, and charity beyond the bounds 285 Of charity--an overflowing love, Not for the creature only, but for all That is around them, love for every thing Which in this happy region they behold! Thus do we soothe ourselves, and when the thought 290 Is past we blame it not for having come. What, if I floated down a pleasant Stream And now am landed, and the motion gone, Shall I reprove myself? Ah no, the stream Is flowing, and will never cease to flow,[367] 295 And I shall float upon that stream again. By such forgetfulness the soul becomes, Words cannot say, how beautiful. Then hail, Hail to the visible Presence, hail to thee, Delightful Valley, habitation fair! 300 And to whatever else of outward form Can give us inward help, can purify, And elevate, and harmonise, and soothe, And steal away, and for a while deceive And lap in pleasing rest, and bear us on 305 Without desire in full complacency, Contemplating perfection absolute And entertained as in a placid sleep. But not betrayed by tenderness of mind That feared, or wholly overlooked the truth, 310 Did we come hither, with romantic hope To find, in midst of so much loveliness, Love, perfect love; of so much majesty A like majestic frame of mind in those Who here abide, the persons like the place. 315 Not from such hope, or aught of such belief Hath issued any portion of the joy Which I have felt this day. An awful voice, ’Tis true, hath in my walks been often heard, Sent from the mountains or the sheltered fields; 320 Shout after shout--reiterated whoop In manner of a bird that takes delight In answering to itself; or like a hound Single at chase among the lonely woods, His yell repeating;[368] yet it was in truth 325 A human voice--a Spirit of coming night, How solemn when the sky is dark, and earth Not dark, nor yet enlightened, but by snow Made visible, amid a noise of winds And bleatings manifold of mountain sheep, 330 Which in that iteration recognise Their summons, and are gathering round for food, Devoured with keenness ere to grove or bank Or rocky _bield_ with patience they retire. That very voice, which, in some timid mood 335 Of superstitious fancy, might have seemed Awful as ever stray Demoniac uttered, His steps to govern in the Wilderness; Or as the Norman Curfew’s regular beat, To hearths when first they darkened at the knell: 340 That Shepherd’s voice, it may have reached mine ear Debased and under profanation, made The ready Organ of articulate sounds From ribaldry, impiety, or wrath Issuing when shame hath ceased to check the brawls 345 Of some abused Festivity--so be it. I came not dreaming of unruffled life, Untainted manners; born among the hills, Bred also there, I wanted not a scale To regulate my hopes. Pleased with the good, 350 I shrink not from the evil with disgust, Or with immoderate pain. I look for Man, The common creature of the brotherhood, Differing but little from the Man elsewhere, For selfishness, and envy, and revenge, 355 Ill neighbourhood--pity that this should be-- Flattery and double-dealing, strife and wrong. Yet is it something gained, it is in truth A mighty gain, that Labour here preserves His rosy face, a servant only here 360 Of the fire-side, or of the open field, A freeman, therefore, sound and unimpaired; That extreme penury is here unknown, And cold and hunger’s abject wretchedness, Mortal to body, and the heaven-born mind; 365 That they who want, are not too great a weight For those who can relieve. Here may the heart Breathe in the air of fellow-suffering Dreadless, as in a kind of fresher breeze Of her own native element, the hand 370 Be ready and unwearied without plea From tasks too frequent, or beyond its power For languor, or indifference, or despair. And as these lofty barriers break the force Of winds, this deep Vale,--as it doth in part 375 Conceal us from the storm,--so here abides A power and a protection for the mind, Dispensed indeed to other solitudes, Favoured by noble privilege like this, Where kindred independence of estate 380 Is prevalent, where he who tills the field, He, happy man! is master of the field,[369] And treads the mountains which his fathers trod. Not less than half-way up yon Mountain’s side Behold a dusky spot, a grove of Firs, 385 That seems still smaller than it is. This grove Is haunted--by what ghost? a gentle spirit Of memory faithful to the call of love; For, as reports the dame, whose fire sends up Yon curling smoke from the grey cot below, 390 The trees (her first-born child being then a babe) Were planted by her husband and herself, That ranging o’er the high and houseless ground Their sheep might neither want (from perilous storms Of winter, nor from summer’s sultry heat) 395 A friendly covert. “And they knew it well,” Said she, “for thither as the trees grew up, We to the patient creatures carried food In times of heavy snow.” She then began In fond obedience to her private thoughts 400 To speak of her dead husband. Is there not An art, a music, and a strain of words That shall be like the acknowledged voice of life, Shall speak of what is done among the fields, Done truly there, or felt, of solid good 405 And real evil, yet be sweet withal, More grateful, more harmonious than the breath, The idle breath of softest pipe attuned To pastoral fancies? Is there such a stream, Pure and unsullied, flowing from the heart 410 With motions of true dignity and grace? Or must we seek that stream where Man is not? Methinks I could repeat in tuneful verse, Delicious as the gentlest breeze that sounds Through that aerial fir-grove, could preserve 415 Some portion of its human history As gathered from the Matron’s lips, and tell Of tears that have been shed at sight of it, And moving dialogues between this pair, Who in their prime of wedlock, with joint hands 420 Did plant the grove, now flourishing, while they No longer flourish, he entirely gone, She withering in her loneliness. Be this A task above my skill; the silent mind Has her own treasures, and I think of these, 425 Love what I see, and honour humankind. No, we are not alone, we do not stand, My Sister, here misplaced and desolate, Loving what no one cares for but ourselves; We shall not scatter through the plains and rocks 430 Of this fair Vale, and o’er its spacious heights Unprofitable kindliness, bestowed On objects unaccustomed to the gifts Of feeling, which were cheerless and forlorn But few weeks past, and would be so again 435 Were we not here; we do not tend a lamp Whose lustre we alone participate, Which shines dependent upon us alone, Mortal though bright, a dying, dying flame. Look where we will, some human hand has been 440 Before us with its offering; not a tree Sprinkles these little pastures but the same Hath furnished matter for a thought; perchance, For some one, serves as a familiar friend. Joy spreads, and sorrow spreads; and this whole Vale, 445 Home of untutored shepherds as it is, Swarms with sensation, as with gleams of sunshine, Shadows or breezes, scents or sounds. Nor deem These feelings, though subservient more than ours To every day’s demand for daily bread, 450 And borrowing more their spirit, and their shape From self-respecting interests, deem them not Unworthy therefore, and unhallowed: no, They lift the animal being, do themselves By Nature’s kind and ever-present aid 455 Refine the selfishness from which they spring, Redeem by love the individual sense Of anxiousness with which they are combined. And thus it is that fitly they become Associates in the joy of purest minds, 460 They blend therewith congenially: meanwhile, Calmly they breathe their own undying life Through this their mountain sanctuary. Long, Oh long may it remain inviolate, Diffusing health and sober cheerfulness, 465 And giving to the moments as they pass Their little boons of animating thought That sweeten labour, make it seen and felt To be no arbitrary weight imposed, But a glad function natural to man. 470 Fair proof of this, newcomer though I be, Already have I gained. The inward frame Though slowly opening, opens every day With process not unlike to that which cheers A pensive stranger, journeying at his leisure 475 Through some Helvetian dell, when low-hung mists Break up, and are beginning to recede; How pleased he is where thin and thinner grows The veil, or where it parts at once, to spy The dark pines thrusting forth their spiky heads; 480 To watch the spreading lawns with cattle grazed, Then to be greeted by the scattered huts, As they shine out; and _see_ the streams whose murmur Had soothed his ear while _they_ were hidden: how pleased To have about him, which way e’er he goes, 485 Something on every side concealed from view, In every quarter something visible, Half-seen or wholly, lost and found again, Alternate progress and impediment, And yet a growing prospect in the main. 490 Such pleasure now is mine, albeit forced, Herein less happy than the Traveller To cast from time to time a painful look Upon unwelcome things, which unawares Reveal themselves; not therefore is my heart 495 Depressed, nor does it fear what is to come, But confident, enriched at every glance. The more I see the more delight my mind Receives, or by reflexion can create. Truth justifies herself, and as she dwells 500 With Hope, who would not follow where she leads? Nor let me pass unheeded other loves Where no fear is, and humbler sympathies. Already hath sprung up within my heart A liking for the small grey horse that bears 505 The paralytic man, and for the brute-- In Scripture sanctified--the patient brute, On which the cripple, in the quarry maimed, Rides to and fro: I know them and their ways.[370] The famous sheep-dog, first in all the Vale, 510 Though yet to me a stranger, will not be A stranger long; nor will the blind man’s guide, Meek and neglected thing, of no renown! Soon will peep forth the primrose; ere it fades Friends shall I have at dawn, blackbird and thrush 515 To rouse me, and a hundred warblers more; And if those eagles to their ancient hold Return, Helvellyn’s eagles! with the pair From my own door I shall be free to claim Acquaintance as they sweep from cloud to cloud. 520 The owl that gives the name to Owlet-Crag Have I heard whooping, and he soon will be A chosen one of my regards. See there The heifer in yon little croft belongs To one who holds it dear; with duteous care 525 She reared it, and in speaking of her charge I heard her scatter some endearing words Domestic, and in spirit motherly She being herself a Mother, happy Beast If the caresses of a human voice 530 Can make it so, and care of human hands. And ye as happy under Nature’s care, Strangers to me, and all men, or at least Strangers to all particular amity, All intercourse of knowledge or of love 535 That parts the individual from his kind, Whether in large communities ye keep From year to year, not shunning Man’s abode, A settled residence, or be from far, Wild creatures, and of many homes, that come 540 The gift of winds, and whom the winds again Take from us at your pleasure--yet shall ye Not want, for this, your own subordinate place In my affections. Witness the delight With which erewhile I saw that multitude 545 Wheel through the sky, and see them now at rest, Yet not at rest, upon the glassy lake. They _cannot_ rest, they gambol like young whelps; Active as lambs, and overcome with joy. They try all frolic motions; flutter, plunge, 550 And beat the passive water with their wings. Too distant are they for plain view, but lo! Those little fountains, sparkling in the sun, Betray their occupation, rising up, First one and then another silver spout, 555 As one or other takes the fit of glee, Fountains and spouts, yet somewhat in the guise Of play-thing fire-works, that on festal nights Sparkle about the feet of wanton boys. --How vast the compass of this theatre, 560 Yet nothing to be seen but lovely pomp And silent majesty; the birch-tree woods Are hung with thousand thousand diamond drops Of melted hoar-frost, every tiny knot In the bare twigs, each little budding place 565 Cased with its several beads, what myriads there Upon one tree, while all the distant grove That rises to the summit of the steep Shows like a mountain built of silver light. See yonder the same pageant, and again 570 Behold the universal imagery Inverted, all its sun-bright features touched As with the varnish, and the gloss of dreams; Dreamlike the blending also of the whole Harmonious landscape; all along the shore 575 The boundary lost, the line invisible That parts the image from reality; And the clear hills, as high as they ascend Heavenward, so piercing deep the lake below. Admonished of the days of love to come 580 The raven croaks, and fills the upper air With a strange sound of genial harmony;[371] And in and all about that playful band, Incapable although they be of rest, And in their fashion very rioters, 585 There is a stillness, and they seem to make Calm revelry in that their calm abode. Them leaving to their joyous hours I pass, Pass with a thought the life of the whole year That is to come, the throng of woodland flowers, 590 And lilies that will dance upon the waves. Say boldly then that solitude is not Where these things are. He truly is alone, He of the multitude whose eyes are doomed To hold a vacant commerce day by day 595 With objects wanting life, repelling love; He by the vast Metropolis immured, Where pity shrinks from unremitting calls, Where numbers overwhelm humanity, And neighbourhood serves rather to divide 600 Than to unite. What sighs more deep than his, Whose nobler will hath long been sacrificed; Who must inhabit, under a black sky, A City where, if indifference to disgust Yield not, to scorn, or sorrow, living men 605 Are ofttimes to their fellow-men no more Than to the forest hermit are the leaves That hang aloft in myriads--nay, far less, For they protect his walk from sun and shower, Swell his devotion with their voice in storms, 610 And whisper while the stars twinkle among them His lullaby. From crowded streets remote, Far from the living and dead wilderness Of the thronged world, Society is here[372] A true Community, a genuine frame 615 Of many into one incorporate. _That_ must be looked for here, paternal sway, One household under God for high and low, One family, and one mansion; to themselves Appropriate, and divided from the world 620 As if it were a cave, a multitude Human and brute, possessors undisturbed Of this recess, their legislative hall, Their Temple, and their glorious dwelling-place. Dismissing therefore, all Arcadian dreams, 625 All golden fancies of the golden age, The bright array of shadowy thoughts from times That were before all time, or is to be Ere time expire, the pageantry that stirs And will be stirring when our eyes are fixed 630 On lovely objects, and we wish to part With all remembrance of a jarring world, --Take we at once this one sufficient hope, What need of more? that we shall neither droop, Nor pine for want of pleasure in the life 635 Scattered about us, nor through dearth of aught That keeps in health the insatiable mind; That we shall have for knowledge and for love Abundance; and that, feeling as we do How goodly, how exceeding fair, how pure 640 From all reproach is yon ethereal vault, And this deep vale its earthly counterpart, By which, and under which, we are enclosed To breathe in peace, we shall moreover find (If sound, and what we ought to be ourselves, 645 If rightly we observe and justly weigh) The inmates not unworthy of their home The dwellers of their dwelling. And if this Were otherwise, we have within ourselves Enough to fill the present day with joy, 650 And overspread the future years with hope, Our beautiful and quiet home, enriched Already with a stranger whom we love Deeply, a stranger of our father’s house, A never-resting Pilgrim of the Sea,[373] 655 Who finds at last an hour to his content Beneath our roof. And others whom we love Will seek us also, sisters of our hearts,[374] And one, like them, a brother of our hearts, Philosopher and Poet,[375] in whose sight 660 These mountains will rejoice with open joy. --Such is our wealth; O Vale of Peace, we are And must be, with God’s will, a happy band. Yet ’tis not to enjoy that we exist, For that end only; something must be done. 665 I must not walk in unreproved delight These narrow bounds, and think of nothing more, No duty that looks further, and no care. Each being has his office, lowly some And common, yet all worthy if fulfilled 670 With zeal, acknowledgment that with the gift Keeps pace, a harvest answering to the seed-- Of ill-advised Ambition and of Pride I would stand clear, but yet to me I feel That an internal brightness is vouchsafed 675 That must not die, that must not pass away. Why does this inward lustre fondly seek, And gladly blend with outward fellowship? Why do _they_ shine around me whom I love? Why do they teach me whom I thus revere? 680 Strange question, yet it answers not itself. That humble roof embowered among the trees, That calm fire-side, it is not even in them, --Blest as they are--to furnish a reply, That satisfies and ends in perfect rest. 685 Possessions have I that are solely mine, Something within which yet is shared by none, Not even the nearest to me and most dear, Something which power and effort may impart, I would impart it, I would spread it wide, 690 Immortal in the world which is to come. Forgive me if I add another claim, And would not wholly perish even in this, Lie down and be forgotten in the dust, I and the modest partners of my days 695 Making a silent company in death; Love, knowledge, all my manifold delights All buried with me without monument Or profit unto any but ourselves. It must not be, if I, divinely taught, 700 Be privileged to speak as I have felt Of what in man is human or divine. While yet an innocent little-one, with a heart That doubtless wanted not its tender moods, I breathed (for this I better recollect) 705 Among wild appetites and blind desires, Motions of savage instinct, my delight And exaltation. Nothing at that time So welcome, no temptation half so dear As that which urged me to a daring feat. 710 Deep pools, tall trees, black chasms, and dizzy crags, And tottering towers; I loved to stand and read Their looks forbidding, read and disobey, Sometimes in act, and evermore in thought. With impulses that scarcely were by these 715 Surpassed in strength, I heard of danger, met Or sought with courage; enterprize forlorn By one, sole keeper of his own intent, Or by a resolute few who for the sake Of glory, fronted multitudes in arms. 720 Yea to this hour I cannot read a tale Of two brave vessels matched in deadly fight, And fighting to the death, but I am pleased More than a wise man ought to be. I wish, Fret, burn, and struggle, and in soul am there; 725 But me hath Nature tamed, and bade to seek For other agitations, or be calm; Hath dealt with me as with a turbulent stream, Some nursling of the mountains, which she leads Through quiet meadows, after he has learnt 730 His strength, and had his triumph and his joy, His desperate course of tumult and of glee. That which in stealth by Nature was performed Hath Reason sanctioned. Her deliberate voice Hath said, “Be mild and cleave to gentle things, 735 Thy glory and thy happiness be there. Nor fear, though thou confide in me, a want Of aspirations that _have_ been, of foes To wrestle with, and victory to complete, Bounds to be leapt, darkness to be explored, 740 All that inflamed thy infant heart, the love, The longing, the contempt, the undaunted quest, All shall survive--though changed their office, all Shall live,--it is not in their power to die.” Then farewell to the Warrior’s schemes, farewell 745 The forwardness of soul which looks that way Upon a less incitement than the cause Of Liberty endangered, and farewell That other hope, long mine, the hope to fill The heroic trumpet with the Muse’s breath! 750 Yet in this peaceful Vale we will not spend Unheard-of days, though loving peaceful thoughts. A voice shall speak, and what will be the theme?[18]

[359] The following lines, 71-97, and 110-125, were first published in the _Memoirs of Wordsworth_, in 1851.--ED.

[360]

… on …

1851.

[361] The lines 152-167 were first published in the _Memoirs of Wordsworth_ in 1851.--ED.

[362]

Mark how the feathered tenants of the flood With grace of motion …

MS.

[363]

… amid …

MS.

[364]

They tempt the water, or …

MS.

[365] The foregoing twenty-seven lines were published under the title _Water-Fowl_, in the 1827 edition of Wordsworth’s “Poetical Works.” They are also printed in the fifth edition of the _Guide through the District of the Lakes in the North of England_ (section first).--ED.

[366] Compare _Paradise Lost_, book xii. l. 646.--ED.

[367] Compare, in the _After-Thought_ to “The Duddon Sonnets”--

Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide.

ED.

[368] Compare, in _An Evening Walk_, l. 378--

Or yell, in the deep woods, of lonely hound.

ED.

[369] Compare Wordsworth’s numerous references to the Cumbrian and Westmoreland “Statesmen,” in his Prose Works, and elsewhere.--ED.

[370] Compare _Peter Bell_.--ED.

[371] Compare _The Excursion_, book iv. ll. 1175-1187.--ED.

[372] Wordsworth says elsewhere that

Solitude is blithe Society.

ED.

[373] John Wordsworth.--ED.

[374] The Hutchinsons.--ED.

[375] Coleridge.--ED.

“SHALL HE WHO GIVES HIS DAYS TO LOW PURSUITS”

The following lines occur in the experimental efforts made by Wordsworth to write an autobiographical poem. They occur in one of his sister’s Journals, entitled “May to December, 1802”; and were probably either dictated to her in that year, or were copied by her from some earlier fragment. They stand related to passages in _The Prelude_. (See vol. iii. p. 269.)--ED.

Shall he who gives his days to low pursuits Amid the undistinguishable crowd Of cities, ’mid the same eternal flow Of the same objects, melted and reduced To one identity, by differences 5 That have no law, no meaning, and no end, Shall he feel yearning to those lifeless forms, And shall we think that Nature is less kind To those, who all day long, through a busy life, Have walked within her sight? It cannot be. 10

1803

“I FIND IT WRITTEN OF SIMONIDES”

Published in _The Morning Post_, October 10, 1803

S.T.C. writing to Tom Poole, October 14, 1803, said that Wordsworth wrote to _The Morning Post_ “as W. L. D., and sometimes with no signature.” There is ample evidence that the following sonnet was written by Wordsworth. He had contributed five sonnets to _The Morning Post_ before the month of September 1803; and on the 10th of October in that year the following appeared.--ED.

I find it written of Simonides, That, travelling in strange countries, once he found A corpse that lay expos’d upon the ground, For which, with palms, he caus’d due obsequies To be perform’d, and paid all holy fees. 5 Soon after this man’s ghost unto him came, And told him not to sail, as was his aim, On board a ship then ready for the seas. Simonides, admonish’d by the ghost, Remain’d behind: the ship the following day 10 Set sail, was wreck’d, and all on board were lost. Thus was the tenderest Poet that could be, Who sang in antient Greece his loving lay, Sav’d out of many by his piety.

1804

“NO WHIMSEY OF THE PURSE IS HERE”

Writing to Sir George Beaumont, on Christmas Day, 1804, Wordsworth said: “We have lately built in our little rocky orchard a circular hut, lined with moss, like a wren’s nest, and coated on the outside with heath, that stands most charmingly, with several views from the different sides of it, of the Lake, the Valley, and the Church.… I will copy a dwarf inscription which I wrote for it” (_i.e._ the circular hut, in his Orchard-Garden) “the other day before the building was entirely finished, which indeed it is not yet.”[376]--ED.

No whimsey of the purse is here, No pleasure-house forlorn; Use, comfort, do this roof endear; A tributary shed to cheer The little cottage that is near, To help it and adorn.

[376] See the _Memorials of Coleorton_, vol. i. p. 81; and Wordsworth’s letter on the subject in a later volume of this edition.--ED.

1805

“PEACEFUL OUR VALLEY, FAIR AND GREEN”

This is extracted from a copy of an appendix to _Recollections of a Tour in Scotland_ by Dorothy Wordsworth, written by Mrs. Clarkson, September-November 1805. It was composed by the poet’s sister. In February 1892 it was published in _The Monthly Packet_ under the title “Grasmere: a Fragment,” and with the signature “Rydal Mount, September 26, 1829.” It is now printed from the MS. of 1805.--ED.

Peaceful our valley, fair and green; And beautiful the cottages Each in its nook, its sheltered hold, Or underneath its tuft of trees.

Many and beautiful they are; 5 But there is one that I love best, A lowly roof in truth it is, A brother of the rest.

Yet when I sit on rock or hill Down-looking on the valley fair, 10 That cottage with its grove of trees Summons my heart; it settles there.

Others there are whose small domain Of fertile fields with hedgerows green Might more seduce the traveller’s mind 15 To wish that there his home had been.

Such wish be his! I blame him not, My fancies they, perchance, are wild; I love that house because it is The very mountain’s child. 20

Fields hath it of its own, green fields; But they are craggy, steep, and bare; Their fence is of the mountain stone, And moss and lichen flourish there.

And when the storm comes from the North 25 It lingers near that pastoral spot, And piping through the mossy walls, It seems delighted with its lot.

And let it take its own delight, And let it range the pastures bare 30 Until it reach that grove of trees ----It may not enter there!

A green unfading grove it is, Skirted with many a lesser tree, Hazel and holly, beech and oak, 35 A fair and flourishing company!

Precious the shelter of those trees! They screen the cottage that I love; The sunshine pierces to the roof And the tall pine trees tower above. 40

When first I saw that dear abode It was a lovely winter’s day: After a night of perilous storm The West wind ruled with gentle sway;

A day so mild, it might have been 45 The first day of the gladsome spring; The robins warbled; and I heard One solitary throstle sing:

A stranger in the neighbourhood, All faces then to me unknown, 50 I left my sole companion-friend To wander out alone.

Lur’d by a little winding path, I quitted soon the public road, A smooth and tempting path it was 55 By sheep and shepherds trod.

Eastward, toward the mighty hills This pathway led me on, Until I reach’d a lofty Rock With velvet moss o’ergrown. 60

With russet Oak and tufts of Fern Its top was richly garlanded; Its sides adorn’d with Eglantine Bedropp’d with hips of glossy red.

There too in many a shelter’d chink 65 The foxglove’s broad leaves flourish’d fair, And silver birch whose purple twigs Bend to the softest breathing air.

Beneath that rock my course I stay’d And, looking to its summit high, 70 “Thou wear’st,” said I, “a splendid garb, Here winter keeps his revelry.

“I’ve been a dweller on the plains, Have sigh’d when summer days were gone; No more I’ll sigh; for winter here 75 Hath gladsome gardens of his own.

“What need of flowers? The splendid moss Is gayer than an April mead; More rich its hues of various green, Orange and gold and glowing red.” 80

----Beside that gay and lovely rock There came with merry voice A foaming streamlet glancing by, It seem’d to say “Rejoice!”

My youthful wishes all fulfill’d, 85 Wishes matured by thoughtful choice, I stood an Inmate of this vale, How could I but rejoice?

“AH! IF I WERE A LADY GAY”

The following two stanzas were added by Wordsworth to his sister’s poem, entitled _The Cottager to her Infant_--composed in 1805, and issued in 1815 (see vol. iii. pp. 74, 75); but they were never published in Wordsworth’s lifetime.--ED.

Ah! if I were a lady gay I should not grieve with thee to play; Right gladly would I lie awake Thy lively spirits to partake, And ask no better cheer. 5

But, Babe! there’s none to work for me, And I must rise to industry; Soon as the cock begins to crow Thy mother to the fold must go To tend the sheep and kine. 10

1806

TO THE EVENING STAR OVER GRASMERE WATER, JULY 1806

The Lake is thine, The mountains too are thine, some clouds there are, Some little feeble stars, but all is thine, Thou, thou art king, and sole proprietor.

A moon among her stars, a mighty vale, 5 Fresh as the freshest field, scoop’d out, and green As is the greenest billow of the sea.

The multitude of little rocky hills, Rocky or green, that do like islands rise From the flat meadow lonely there. 10 … Embowering mountains, and the dome of Heaven And waters in the midst, a Second Heaven.

MICHAEL ANGELO IN REPLY TO THE PASSAGE UPON HIS STATUE OF NIGHT SLEEPING

In the first volume of a copy of the edition of 1836,--long kept by Wordsworth at Rydal Mount, and afterwards the property of the late Lord Coleridge--which has been referred to in the Preface to Vol. 1., and very often in the footnotes to all the volumes, signed C.--Wordsworth wrote in MS. two translations of a fragment of Michael Angelo’s on Sleep, and a translation of some Latin verses by Thomas Warton on the same subject. These fragments were never included in any edition of his published works, and it is impossible to say to what year they belong. From their close relation to other translations from Michael Angelo, made by Wordsworth in 1806, I assign them, conjecturally, to the same year. The title is from Wordsworth’s own MS.--ED.

I

Grateful is Sleep, my life, in stone bound fast, More grateful still: while wrong and shame shall last, On me can Time no happier state bestow Than to be left unconscious of the woe. Ah then, lest you awaken me, speak low. 5

II

Grateful is Sleep, more grateful still to be Of marble; for while shameless wrong and woe Prevail, ’tis best to neither hear nor see. Then wake me not, I pray you. Hush, speak low.

“COME, GENTLE SLEEP, DEATH’S IMAGE THO’ THOU ART”

Come, gentle Sleep, Death’s image tho’ thou art, Come share my couch, nor speedily depart; How sweet thus living without life to lie, Thus without death how sweet it is to die.

The Latin verse by Thomas Warton, of which these lines are a translation, is as follows:--

Somne veni! quamvis placidissima Mortis imago es, Consortem cupio te tamen esse tori; Hue ades, haud abiture citò! nam sic sine vita Vivere quam suave est, sic sine morte mori!

Thomas Warton, Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford, and Professor of Poetry in that University, is chiefly known by his _History of English Poetry_ (1774-1781).--ED.

“BROOK, THAT HAST BEEN MY SOLACE DAYS AND WEEKS”

The following version of the sonnet beginning “Brook! whose society the Poet seeks,” probably written in 1806 and first published in 1815 (see vol. iv. p. 52), has come to light since that volume was issued. The variants throughout are sufficient to warrant its publication here. Had I received it earlier they would have appeared in vol. iv.--ED.

Brook, that hast been my solace days and weeks, And months, and let me add the long year through, I come to thee, thou dost my heart renew; O happy Thing! among thy flowery creeks, And happy, dancing down thy water-breaks: 5 If I some type of thee did wish to view, Thee, and not thee thyself, I would not do Like Grecian Poets, give thee human cheeks, Channels for tears! No Naiad should’st thou be; Have neither wings, feet, feathers, joints, nor hairs. 10 It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee With purer robes than those of flesh and blood, And hath bestowed on thee a better good; The joy of fleshly life without its cares.

TRANSLATION FROM MICHAEL ANGELO

The date of this is unknown, and the original MS. is difficult to decipher. It is here and there illegible. It may belong to the year of the “Ecclesiastical Sonnets,” but I place it beside the other translation from Michael Angelo.--ED.

Rid of a vexing and a heavy load, Eternal Lord! and from the world set free, Like a frail Bark, weary I turn to Thee,-- From frightful storms into a quiet road. On much repentance Grace will be bestow’d. 5 The nails, the thorns, and thy two hands, thy face Benign, meek, …, offers grace To sinners whom their sins oppress and goad. Let not thy justice view, O Light Divine, My fault, and keep it from thy sacred ear. 10 … Cleanse with thy blood my sins, to this incline More readily, the more my years require Prompt aid, forgiveness speedy and entire.

1808

GEORGE AND SARAH GREEN

Composed 1808.--Published 1839

This poem was first printed in De Quincey’s “Recollections of Grasmere,” which appeared in _Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine_, September 1839, p. 573, and afterwards in his _Recollections of the Lakes_ (1853), p. 23.

The text is printed as it is found in De Quincey’s article. Doubtless Wordsworth, or some member of the family, had supplied him with a copy of these verses. Wordsworth himself seemed to have thought them unworthy of publication. A copy of the poem was transcribed at Grasmere by Dorothy Wordsworth for Lady Beaumont on the 20th April 1808. In this copy there are numerous variations from the text as published by De Quincey, and these are indicated in the footnotes. In the letter to Lady Beaumont, Dorothy Wordsworth says, “I am going to transcribe a poem composed by my brother a few days after his return. It was begun in the churchyard when he was looking at the grave of the Husband and Wife, and is in fact supposed to be entirely composed there.”

Wordsworth returned to his old home at Dove Cottage, Grasmere, after a short visit to London, on the 6th April 1808; and there he remained, till Allan Bank was ready for occupation. I therefore conclude that this poem was written in April 1808.

Compare De Quincey’s account of the disaster that befell the Greens, as reported in his _Early Recollections of Grasmere_. The Wordsworths had evidently taken part in the effort to raise subscriptions in behalf of the orphan children. They issued a printed appeal on the subject. The following is an extract from a letter of Dorothy Wordsworth’s to Lady Beaumont on the subject:--

“GRASMERE, _April 20th, 1808_.

“We received your letter this morning, enclosing the half of a £5 note. I am happy to inform you that the orphans have been fixed under the care of very respectable people. The baby is with its sister--she who filled the Mother’s place in the house during their two days of fearless solitude. It has clung to her ever since, and she has been its sole nurse. I went with two ladies of the Committee (in my sister’s place, who was then confined to poor John’s bedside) to conduct the family to their separate homes. The two Girls are together, as I have said; two Boys at another Home; and the third Boy by himself at the house of an elderly man who had a particular friendship for their father. The kind reception that the children met with was very affecting.”

See the letters from Wordsworth to Richard Sharpe, Esq., Mark Lane, London, in a subsequent volume, referring to the catastrophe.--ED.

Who weeps for strangers? Many wept For George and Sarah Green; Wept for that pair’s unhappy fate, Whose grave may here be seen.[377]

By night, upon these stormy fells,[378] 5 Did wife and husband roam; Six little ones at home had left, And could not find that home.[379]

For _any_ dwelling-place of man As vainly did they seek. 10 He perish’d; and a voice was heard-- The widow’s lonely shriek.[380]

Not many steps, and she was left[381] A body without life-- A few short steps were the chain that bound[382] 15 The husband to the wife.[383]

Now do those[384] sternly-featured hills Look gently on this grave; And quiet now are the depths[385] of air, As a sea without a wave. 20

But deeper lies the heart of peace In quiet more profound;[386] The heart of quietness is here Within this churchyard bound.[387]

And from all agony of mind 25 It keeps them safe, and far From fear and grief, and from all need Of sun or guiding star.[388]

O darkness of the grave! how deep,[389] After that living night-- 30 That last and dreary living one Of sorrow and affright!

O sacred marriage-bed of death, That keeps[390] them side by side In bond of peace, in bond of love,[391] 35 That may not be untied!

[377] 1839.

Wept for that Pair’s unhappy end, Whose Grave may here be seen.

MS. letter of Dorothy Wordsworth’s.

[378] 1839.

… these stormy Heights,

MS.

[379] 1839.

Six little ones the Pair had left, And could not find their home.

MS.

[380] 1839.

Down the dark precipice he fell, And she was left alone, Not long to think of her children dear, Not long to pray, or groan.

Added in MS.

[381] 1839.

A few wild steps--she too was left,

MS.

[382] 1839.

The chain of but a few wild steps.

MS. in Dorothy Wordsworth’s handwriting--sent to Lady Beaumont.

[383] 1839.

Four stanzas are here added in MS., only one of which need be given--

Our peace is of the immortal soul, Our anguish is of clay; Such bounty is in Heaven: so pass The bitterest pangs away.

[384] 1839.

Now do the …

MS.

[385] 1839.

… is the depth …

MS.

[386] 1839.

In shelter more profound.

MS.

[387] 1839.

… ground.

MS.

[388] 1839.

From fear, and from all need of hope From sun or guiding star.

MS.

[389] 1839.

… how calm,

MS.

[390] 1839.

That holds …

MS.

[391] 1839.

In bond of love, in bond of God,

MS.

1818

“THE SCOTTISH BROOM ON BIRD-NEST BRAE”[392]

The Scottish Broom on Bird-nest brae[393] Twelve tedious years ago, When many plants strange blossoms bore That puzzled high and low, A not unnatural longing felt, 5 What longing would ye know? Why, friend, to deck her supple twigs With _yellow_ in full blow.

To Lowther Castle she addressed A prayer both bold and sly, 10 (For all the Brooms on Bird-nest brae Can talk and speechify) That flattering breezes blowing thence Their succour would supply, Then she would instantly put forth 15 A flag of _yellow_ dye.

But from the Castle turret blew A chill forbidding blast, Which the poor Broom no sooner felt Than she shrank up so fast; 20 Her _wished-for_ yellow she forswore, And since that time has cast Fond looks on colours three or four And put forth _Blue_ at last. And now, my lads, the Election comes 25 In June’s sunshining hours, When every field and bank and brae Is clad with yellow flowers. While faction Blue from shops and booths Tricks out her blustering powers, 30 Lo! smiling Nature’s lavish hand Has furnished wreaths for ours.

[392] “Written, in my opinion, at the General Election of 1818.”--(The Rev. Thomas Hutchinson of Kimbolton.)

[393] “Bird-nest” was the old name of Brougham Hall.--ED.

PLACARD FOR A POLL BEARING AN OLD SHIRT

Wordsworth was deeply interested in the successive parliamentary elections for Westmoreland (see his “Addresses to the Freeholders of Westmorland, 1818,” in the Prose Works.) He particularly disliked Lord Brougham’s candidature. The following squib is in MS. at Lowther Castle. He wrote on the MS.--“For a version of part of B.’s famous London Tower Speech see opposite page.”--ED.

If money’s slack, The shirt on my back Shall off, and go to the hammer: Though I sell shirt and skin By Jove I’ll be in, And raise up a radical clamor!

“CRITICS, RIGHT HONOURABLE BARD, DECREE”

I have found this in a catalogue of Autograph Letters, and have no knowledge of its date, or of the Bard referred to. Solomon Gesner wrote a poem on _The Death of Abel_, which was translated into English. See footnote to _The Prelude_, book vii. l. 564.--ED.

“Critics, right honourable Bard, decree Laurels to some, a night-shade wreath to thee, Whose muse a sure though late revenge hath ta’en Of harmless Abel’s death, by murdering Cain.”

On Cain, a Mystery, dedicated to Sir Walter Scott:--

“A German Haggis from receipt Of him who cooked the death of Abel, And sent ‘warm-reeking, rich and sweet,’ From Venice to Sir Walter’s table.”

1819

“THROUGH CUMBRIAN WILDS, IN MANY A MOUNTAIN COVE”

In 1819 Wordsworth wrote the sonnet beginning, “Grief, thou hast lost an ever ready friend.” In the note to that sonnet (vol. vi. p. 196) I have given a different version of its last six lines, from a MS. sonnet. But as these six lines also form the conclusion of another unpublished sonnet, it may be given in full by itself, in this Appendix.--ED.

Through Cumbrian wilds, in many a mountain cove, The pastoral Muse laments the Wheel--no more Engaged, near blazing hearth on clean-swept floor, In tasks which guardian Angels might approve, Friendly the weight of leisure to remove, 5 And to beguile the lassitude of ease; Gracious to all the dear dependencies Of house and field,--to plenty, peace, and love. There too did _Fancy_ prize the murmuring wheel; For sympathies, inexplicably fine, 10 Instilled a confidence--how sweet to feel! That ever in the night-calm, when the Sheep Upon their grassy beds lay couch’d in sleep, The quickening spindle drew a trustier line.

“MY SON! BEHOLD THE TIDE ALREADY SPENT”

The following sonnet occurs after the above in the same MS. whence both are extracted.--ED.

My Son! behold the tide already spent That rose, and steadily advanced to fill The shores and channels, working Nature’s will Among the mazy streams that backward went, And in the sluggish Ports where ships were pent. 5 And now, its task performed, the flood stands still At the green base of many an inland hill, In placid beauty and entire content. Such the repose that Sage and Hero find, Such measured rest the diligent and good 10 Of humbler name, whose souls do like the flood Of ocean press right on, or gently wind, Neither to be diverted nor withstood Until they reach the bounds by Heaven assigned.

1820

AUTHOR’S VOYAGE DOWN THE RHINE

(THIRTY YEARS AGO)

The confidence of Youth our only Art, And Hope gay Pilot of the bold design, We saw the living Landscapes of the Rhine, Reach after reach, salute us and depart; Slow sink the Spires,--and up again they start! 5 But who shall count the Towers as they recline O’er the dark steeps, or in the horizon line Striding, with shattered crests, the eye athwart? More touching still, more perfect was the pleasure, When hurrying forward till the slack’ning stream 10 Spread like a spacious Mere, we there could measure A smooth free course along the watery gleam, Think calmly on the past, and mark at leisure Features which else had vanished like a dream.

This sonnet was published in the first edition of the Memorials of this Tour (1822), but was struck out of the next edition, and never republished. Its rejection by Wordsworth is curious.

It refers to the pedestrian tour which the Poet took, with his friend Jones, in 1790, which he afterwards recorded in full in his _Descriptive Sketches_.

Dorothy Wordsworth, in her Journal of the Tour in 1820, refers to it thus:--“Our journey through the narrower and most romantic passages of the Vale of the Rhine was connected with times long past, when my brother and his Friend (it was thirty years ago) floated down the stream in their little Bark. Often did my fancy place them with a freight of happiness in the centre of some bending reach, overlooked by tower or castle, or (when expectation would be most eager) at the turning of a promontory, which had concealed from their view some delicious winding which we had left behind; but no more of my own feelings, a record of his will be more interesting.”

She then quotes the sonnet, beginning

The confidence of Youth our only Art.

There are also numerous allusions in Mrs. Wordsworth’s Journal to this early tour; _e.g._ under date August 13. “We left Meyringen; soon reached a sort of Hotel, which Wm. pointed out to us with great interest, as being the only spot where he and his friend Jones were ill used, during the course of their adventurous journey--a wild looking building, a little removed from the road, where the vale of Hasli ends.” Again, in describing the sunset from the woody hill Colline de Gibet, overlooking the two lakes of Brienz and Thun, at Interlaken, “with the loveliest of green vallies between us and Jungfrau,” “Surely William must have had this Paradise in his thoughts when he began his _Descriptive Sketches_--

Were there, below, a spot of holy ground, By Pain and her sad family unfound, etc.

But no habitation was there among these rocky knolls, and tiny pastures. One fragment, something like a ruined convent, lurked under a steep, woody-fringed crag. What a Refuge for a pious Sisterhood!” Compare also the note to _Stanzas composed in the Simplon Pass_, vol. vi. p. 359.--ED.

1822

“THESE VALES WERE SADDENED WITH NO COMMON GLOOM”

In the _Memoirs of William Wordsworth_ by his nephew (the late Bishop of Lincoln) vol. i. chap. xxx. the following occurs as an addendum transferred to the footnotes:--

“The first six lines of an epitaph in Grasmere Church were also his composition. The elegant marble tablet on which they were engraved was designed by Sir Francis Chantry, and prepared by Allan Cunningham, 1822. It is over the chancel door.”

The following is the Inscription:--

In the Burial Ground of this Church are deposited the remains of JEMIMA ANNE DEBORAH, second daughter of Sir Egerton Brydges, of Denton Court, Kent, Bart. She departed this life at the Ivy Cottage, Rydal, May 25th 1822, aged 28 years. This memorial is erected by her husband

EDWARD QUILLINAN.

The entire sonnet, of which Wordsworth wrote the “first six lines,” is as follows:--

These vales were saddened with no common gloom When good Jemima perished in her bloom; When, such the awful will of heaven, she died By flames breathed on her from her own fireside. On earth we dimly see, and but in part 5 We know, yet faith sustains the sorrowing heart; And she, the pure, the patient and the meek, Might have fit epitaph could feelings speak; If words could tell and monuments record, How Treasures lost are inwardly deplored, 10 No name by grief’s fond eloquence adorned More than Jemima’s would be praised and mourned. The tender virtues of her blameless life, Bright in the daughter, brighter in the wife, And in the cheerful mother brightest shone,-- 15 That light hath past away--the will of God[394] be done.

[394]

… of Heaven …

MS.

TRANSLATION OF PART OF THE FIRST BOOK OF THE ÆNEID

Composed 1823 (?).--Published 1836

This translation was included in the _Philological Museum_, edited by Julius Charles Hare, and published at Cambridge in 1832 (vol. i. p. 382, etc.). Three Books were translated by Wordsworth, but the greater portion is still in MS., unpublished. What is now reproduced appeared in the _Museum_. As it was never included by Wordsworth himself in any edition of his Works, his own estimate of its literary value was slight. It was published by Professor Henry Reed in his American reprint of 1851. Writing to Lord Lonsdale on 9th Nov. 1823, Wordsworth says, “I have just finished a Translation into English rhyme of the First _Æneid_. Would you allow me to send it to you? I would be much gratified if you would take the trouble of comparing some passages with the original. I have endeavoured to be much more literal than Dryden, or Pitt--who keeps more close to the original than his predecessor.”--ED.

TO THE EDITORS OF THE “PHILOLOGICAL MUSEUM”

Your letter, reminding me of an expectation I some time since held out to you of allowing some specimens of my translation from the _Æneid_ to be printed in the _Philological Museum_ was not very acceptable; for I had abandoned the thought of ever sending into the world any part of that experiment,--for it was nothing more,--an experiment begun for amusement, and I now think a less fortunate one than when I first named it to you. Having been displeased in modern translations with the additions of incongruous matter, I began to translate with a resolve to keep clear of that fault, by adding nothing; but I became convinced that a spirited translation can scarcely be accomplished in the English language without admitting a principle of compensation. On this point, however, I do not wish to insist, and merely send the following passage, taken at random, from a wish to comply with your request.--W.W.

But Cytherea, studious to invent Arts yet untried, upon new counsels bent, Resolves that Cupid, chang’d in form and face To young Ascanius, should assume his place; Present the maddening gifts, and kindle heat 5 Of passion at the bosom’s inmost seat. She dreads the treacherous house, the double tongue; She burns, she frets--by Juno’s rancour stung; The calm of night is powerless to remove These cares, and thus she speaks to wingèd Love: 10

“O son, my strength, my power! who dost despise (What, save thyself, none dares through earth and skies) The giant-quelling bolts of Jove, I flee, O son, a suppliant to thy deity! What perils meet Æneas in his course, 15 How Juno’s hate with unrelenting force Pursues thy brother--this to thee is known; And oft-times hast thou made my griefs thine own. Him now the generous Dido by soft chains Of bland entreaty at her court detains; 20 Junonian hospitalities prepare Such apt occasion that I dread a snare. Hence, ere some hostile God can intervene, Would I, by previous wiles, inflame the queen With passion for Æneas, such strong love 25 That at my beck, mine only, she shall move. Hear, and assist;--the father’s mandate calls His young Ascanius to the Tyrian walls; He comes, my dear delight,--and costliest things Preserv’d from fire and flood for presents brings. 30 Him will I take, and in close covert keep, ’Mid groves Idalian, lull’d to gentle sleep, Or on Cythera’s far-sequestered steep, That he may neither know what hope is mine, Nor by his presence traverse the design. 35 Do thou, but for a single night’s brief space, Dissemble; be that boy in form and face! And when enraptured Dido shall receive Thee to her arms, and kisses interweave With many a fond embrace, while joy runs high, 40 And goblets crown the proud festivity, Instil thy subtle poison, and inspire, At every touch, an unsuspected fire.”

Love, at the word, before his mother’s sight Puts off his wings, and walks, with proud delight, 45 Like young Iulus; but the gentlest dews Of slumber Venus sheds, to circumfuse The true Ascanius steep’d in placid rest; Then wafts him, cherish’d on her careful breast, Through upper air to an Idalian glade, 50 Where he on soft _amaracas_ is laid, With breathing flowers embraced, and fragrant shade. But Cupid, following cheerily his guide Achates, with the gifts to Carthage hied; And, as the hall he entered, there, between 55 The sharers of her golden couch, was seen Reclin’d in festal pomp the Tyrian queen. The Trojans, too (Æneas at their head), On couches lie, with purple overspread: Meantime in canisters is heap’d the bread, 60 Pellucid water for the hands is borne, And napkins of smooth texture, finely shorn. Within are fifty handmaids, who prepare, As they in order stand, the dainty fare; And fume the household deities with store 65 Of odorous incense; while a hundred more Match’d with an equal number of like age, But each of manly sex, a docile page, Marshal the banquet, giving with due grace To cup or viand its appointed place. 70 The Tyrians rushing in, an eager band, Their painted couches seek, obedient to command. They look with wonder on the gifts--they gaze Upon Iulus, dazzled with the rays That from his ardent countenance are flung, 75 And charm’d to hear his simulating tongue; Nor pass unprais’d the robe and veil divine, Round which the yellow flowers and wandering foliage twine.

But chiefly Dido, to the coming ill Devoted, strives in vain her vast desires to fill; 80 She views the gifts; upon the child then turns Insatiable looks, and gazing burns. To ease a father’s cheated love he hung Upon Æneas, and around him clung; Then seeks the queen; with her his arts he tries; 85 She fastens on the boy enamour’d eyes, Clasps in her arms, nor weens (O lot unblest!) How great a God, incumbent o’er her breast, Would fill it with his spirit. He, to please His Acidalian mother, by degrees 90 Blots out Sichaeus, studious to remove The dead, by influx of a living love, By stealthy entrance of a perilous guest. Troubling a heart that had been long at rest.

Now when the viands were withdrawn, and ceas’d 95 The first division of the splendid feast, While round a vacant board the chiefs recline, Huge goblets are brought forth; they crown the wine; Voices of gladness roll the walls around; Those gladsome voices from the courts rebound; 100 From gilded rafters many a blazing light Depends, and torches overcome the night. The minutes fly--till, at the queen’s command, A bowl of state is offered to her hand: Then she, as Belus wont, and all the line 105 From Belus, filled it to the brim with wine; Silence ensued. “O Jupiter, whose care Is hospitable dealing, grant my prayer! Productive day be this of lasting joy To Tyrians, and these exiles driven from Troy; 110 A day to future generations dear! Let Bacchus, donor of soul-quick’ning cheer, Be present; kindly Juno, be thou near! And, Tyrians, may your choicest favours wait Upon this hour, the bond to celebrate!” 115 She spake and shed an offering on the board; Then sipp’d the bowl whence she the wine had pour’d And gave to Bitias, urging the prompt lord; He rais’d the bowl, and took a long deep draught; Then every chief in turn the beverage quaff’d. 120

Graced with redundant hair, Iopas sings The lore of Atlas, to resounding strings, The labours of the Sun, the lunar wanderings; Whence human kind, and brute; what natural powers Engender lightning, whence are falling showers. 125 He haunts Arcturus,--that fraternal twain The glittering Bears,--the Pleiads fraught with rain; --Why suns in winter, shunning heaven’s steep heights Post seaward,--what impedes the tardy nights. The learned song from Tyrian hearers draws 130 Loud shouts,--the Trojans echo the applause. --But, lengthening out the night with converse new, Large draughts of love unhappy Dido drew; Of Priam ask’d, of Hector--o’er and o’er-- What arms the son of bright Aurora wore;-- 135 What steeds the car of Diomed could boast; Among the leaders of the Grecian host How look’d Achilles, their dread paramount-- “But nay--the fatal wiles, O guest, recount, Retrace the Grecian cunning from its source, 140 Your own grief and your friends’--your wandering course; For now, till this seventh summer have ye rang’d The sea, or trod the earth, to peace estrang’d.”

1823

“ARMS AND THE MAN I SING, THE FIRST WHO BORE”

The following version of the first few lines of the _Æneid_ were copied by Professor Reed of Philadelphia, with Mrs. Wordsworth’s permission, during a visit to Rydal Mount in 1854, four years after the poet’s death. Mrs. Reed kindly sent them to me.--ED.

Arms and the Man I sing, the first who bore His course to Latium from the Trojan shore, A fugitive of fate. Long time was he By powers celestial tossed on land and sea Thro’ wrathful Juno’s far-famed enmity; Much too from war endured till new abodes He planted, and in Latium fixed his Gods, Whence flows the Latin people, whence have come The Alban Sites and walls of lofty Rome.

1826

LINES ADDRESSED TO JOANNA H. FROM GWERNDWFFNANT IN JUNE 1826

BY DOROTHY WORDSWORTH[395]

A twofold harmony is here; I listen with the bodily ear, But dull and cheerless is the sound Contrasted with the heart’s rebound.

Now at the close of fervid June, 5 Upon this breathless hazy noon, I seek the deepest darkest shade Within the covert of that glade,

Which you and I first named our own When primroses were fully blown, 10 Oaks just were budding, and the grove Rang with the gladdest songs of love.

Then did the Leader of the Band, A gallant thrush, maintain his stand Unshrouded from the eye of day 15 Upon yon Beech’s topmost spray.

Within the selfsame lofty tree A thrush sings now--perchance ’tis he-- The lusty joyous gallant bird, Which on that April morn we heard. 20

But oh! how different that voice Which bade the very hills rejoice. Through languid air, through leafy boughs It falls, and can no echo rouse.

But on the workings of my heart 25 Doth memory act a busy part; That jocund April morn lives there, Its cheering sounds, its hues so fair.

Why mixes with remembrance blithe What nothing but the restless scythe 30 Of Death can utterly destroy, A heaviness, a dull alloy?

Ah Friend! thy heart can answer why. Even then I heaved a bitter sigh, No word of sorrow did’st thou speak, 35 But tears stole down thy tremulous cheek.

The wished for hour at length was come, And thou had’st housed me in thy home, On fair Gwerndwffnant’s billowy hill, Had’st led me to its crystal rill, 40

And led me through the dingle deep Up to the highest grassy steep, The sheep walk where the snow-white lambs Sported beside their quiet dams.

But thou wert destined to remove 45 From all these objects of thy love, In this thy later day to roam Far off, and seek another home.

_Now_ thou art gone--belike ’tis best-- And I remain a passing guest, 50 Yet for thy sake, beloved Friend, When from this spot my way shall tend,

And if my timid soul might dare To shape the future in its prayer, Then fervently would I entreat 55 Our gracious God to guide thy feet Back to the peaceful sunny cot, Where thou so oft hast blessed thy lot.

[395] I owe my knowledge of this and the following poem to the nephew of Mrs. Wordsworth, the Reverend Thomas Hutchinson of Kimbolton, Herefordshire, who wrote: “The two following poems were found among his papers on the demise of Mr. Monkhouse--a first cousin of Wordsworth; the first in the hand-writing of Wordsworth’s wife, and the second of her daughter.”--ED.

HOLIDAY AT GWERNDWFFNANT, MAY 1826

IRREGULAR STANZAS

BY DOROTHY WORDSWORTH

You’re here for one long vernal day; We’ll give it all to social play, Though forty years have rolled away Since we were young as you.

Then welcome to our spacious Hall! 5 Tom, Bessy, Mary, welcome all! Though removed from busy men, Yea lonesome as the foxes’ den, ’Tis a place for joyance fit, For frolic games and inborn wit. 10

’Twas nature built this hall of ours; She shap’d the bank; she framed the bowers That close it all around; From her we hold our precious right, And here, thro’ live-long day and night, 15 She rules with modest sway.

Our carpet is our verdant sod; A richer one was never trod In prince’s proud saloon. Purple, and gold, and spotless white, 20 And quivering shade, and sunny light, Blend with the emerald green.

She opened for the mountain brook A gentle winding pebbly way Into this placid secret nook. 25 Its bell-like tinkling--list, you hear-- ’Tis never loud, yet always clear As linnet’s song in May.

And we have other music here: A thousand songsters through the year 30 Dwell in these happy groves, And in this season of their loves They join their voices with the doves To raise a perfect harmony.

Thus spake I while with sober pace 35 We slipped into that chosen place And from the centre of our Hall The young ones played around, Then, like a flock of vigorous lambs, That quit their grave and slow-paced dams 40 To frolic o’er the mead,

That innocent fraternal troop Erewhile a steady listening group Off starting--Girl and Boy In gamesome race with agile bound 45 Beat o’er and o’er the grassy ground As if in motion--perfect joy.

So vanishes my idle scheme That we through this long vernal day, Associates in their youthful play, 50 With them might travel in one stream. Ah! how should we whose heads are grey? Light was my heart, my spirits gay, And fondly did I dream.

But now, recalled to consciousness, 55 With weight of years, of changed estate, Thought is not needed to repress Those shapeless fancies of delight That flash before my dazzled sight Upon this joy-devoted morn. 60

Gladly we seek the stillest nook Whence we may read, as in a book, A history of years gone by, Recalled to faded memory’s eye By bright reflection from the mirth 65 Of youthful hearts--a transient second-birth Of our own childish days.

Pleasure unbidden is their guide Their leader--faithful to their side Prompting each wayward feat of strength: 70 The ambitious leap, the emulous race, The startling shout, the mimic chase, The simple half-disguisèd wile Detected through the flattering smile.

A truce to this unbridled course 75 Doth intervene--no need of force. We spread upon the flowery grass The noontide meal--each lad and lass Obeys the call--we form a Round, And all are seated on the ground. 80

The sun’s meridian hour is passed, Again begins the emulous race, Again succeeds the sportive chase. And thus was spent that vernal day, Till twilight checked the noisy play; 85 Then did they feel a languor spread Over their limbs, the beating tread Was stilled--the busy throbbing heart-- And silently we all depart.

The shelter of our rustic cot 90 Receives us, and we envy not The palace, or the stately dome; But wish that _all_ had such a home. Each child repeats his nightly prayer That God may bless their parents’ care 95 To guide them in the way of truth Through helpless childhood, giddy youth.

The closing hymn of cheerful praise Doth yet again their spirits raise; But ’tis not now a thoughtless joy. 100 For tender parents, loving friends, And all the gifts God’s blessing sends, Feelingly do they bless his name.

That homage paid, the young retire With no unsatisfied desire; 105 Theirs is one long, one steady sleep, Till the sun, tip-toe on the steep In front of our beloved cot, Casts on the walls her brightest beams. Within, a startling lustre streams. 110 They all awaken suddenly; As at the touch of magic skill, Or, as the pilgrim, at the bell That summons him to matin-prayer.

And is it sorrow that they feel? 115 Nay! call it not by such a name, The stroke of sadness that doth steal With rapid motion through their hearts, When comes the thought that yesterday With all its joys is passed away, 120 The long expected happy day.

An instant--and all sadness goes; Nor brighter looks the half-blown rose Than does the countenance of each child Whether of ardent soul or mild. 125 The hour was fixed--they are prepared-- And homeward now they must depart, And after many a brisk adieu, On pony trim, and fleet of limb, Their bustling journey they pursue. 130

The fair-hair’d gentle quiet maid, And she who is of daring mood, The valiant and the timid Boy Alike are ranged to hardihood; And wheresoe’er the troop appear 135 They scatter smiles, a hearty cheer Comes from both old and young, And blessings fall from many a tongue.

They reach the dear paternal roof, Nor dread a cold or stern reproof, 140 While they pour forth the history Of three days’ mirth and revelry. Ah! Children, happy is your lot, Still bound together in one knot Beneath your tender mother’s eye! 145 Too soon these blessed days shall fly, And brothers shall from sisters part; And, trust me, whatsoe’er your doom, Whate’er betide through years to come, The punctual pleasures of your home 150 Shall linger in your thoughts, More clear than any future hope Though fancy take her freest scope. For oh! too soon your hearts shall own The past is all that is your own. 155

And every day of _festival_ Gratefully shall ye then recal, Less for their own sakes than for this, That each shall be a resting-place For memory, and divide the race 160 Of childhood’s smooth and happy years, Thus lengthening out that term of life Which governed by your parents’ care Is free from sorrow and from strife.

COMPOSED WHEN A PROBABILITY EXISTED OF OUR BEING OBLIGED TO QUIT RYDAL MOUNT AS A RESIDENCE

The following lines were written by Wordsworth in 1826. He never published them. They were the result of a slight disagreement between the Wordsworth family and the Le Flemings, which led the former to fear that they might have to “quit Rydal Mount as a residence.” It was an insignificant difference, and the Wordsworths did not leave their home. The only thing worthy of record, in connection with the matter, is that the fear of being dispossessed led the poet to write what follows.--ED.

The doubt to which a wavering hope had clung Is fled; we must depart, willing or not; Sky-piercing Hills! must bid farewell to you And all that ye look down upon with pride, With tenderness, embosom; to your paths, 5 And pleasant dwellings, to familiar trees And wild-flowers known as well as if our hands Had tended them: and O pellucid Spring! Unheard of, save in one small hamlet, here Not undistinguished, for of wells that ooze 10 Or founts that gurgle from yon craggy steep, Their common sire, thou only bear’st his name. Insensibly the foretaste of this parting Hath ruled my steps, and seals me to thy side, Mindful that thou (ah! wherefore by my Muse 15 So long unthanked) hast cheered a simple board With beverage pure as ever fixed the choice Of hermit, dubious where to scoop his cell; Which Persian kings might envy; and thy meek And gentle aspect oft has ministered 20 To finer uses. They for me must cease; Days will pass on, the year, if years be given, Fade,--and the moralising mind derive No lessons from the presence of a Power By the inconstant nature we inherit 25 Unmatched in delicate beneficence; For neither unremitting rains avail To swell thee into voice; nor longest drought Thy bounty stints, nor can thy beauty mar, Beauty not therefore wanting change to stir 30 The fancy pleased by spectacles unlooked for. Nor yet, perchance, translucent Spring, had tolled The Norman curfew bell when human hands First offered help that the deficient rock Might overarch thee, from pernicious heat 35 Defended, and appropriate to man’s need. Such ties will not be severed: but, when we Are gone, what summer loiterer will regard, Inquisitive, thy countenance, will peruse, Pleased to detect the dimpling stir of life, 40 The breathing faculty with which thou yield’st (Tho’ a mere goblet to the careless eye) Boons inexhaustible? Who, hurrying on With a step quickened by November’s cold, Shall pause, the skill admiring that can work 45 Upon thy chance-defilements--withered twigs That, lodged within thy crystal depths, seem bright, As if they from a silver tree had fallen-- And oaken leaves that, driven by whirling blasts, Sunk down, and lay immersed in dead repose 50 For Time’s invisible tooth to prey upon Unsightly objects and uncoveted, Till thou with crystal bead-drops didst encrust Their skeletons, turned to brilliant ornaments. But, from thy bosom, should some venturous[396] hand 55 Abstract those gleaming relics, and uplift them, However gently, toward the vulgar air, At once their tender brightness disappears, Leaving the intermeddler to upbraid His folly. Thus (I feel it while I speak), 60 Thus, with the fibres of these thoughts it fares; And oh! how much, of all that love creates Or beautifies, like changes undergo, Suffers like loss when drawn out of the soul, Its silent laboratory! Words should say 65 (Could they depict the marvels of thy cell) How often I have marked a plumy fern From the live rock with grace inimitable Bending its apex toward a paler self Reflected all in perfect lineaments-- 70 Shadow and substance kissing point to point In mutual stillness; or, if some faint breeze Entering the cell gave restlessness to one, The other, glassed in thy unruffled breast, Partook of every motion, met, retired, 75 And met again. Such playful sympathy, Such delicate caress as in the shape Of this green plant had aptly recompensed For baffled lips and disappointed arms And hopeless pangs, the spirit of that youth, 80 The fair Narcissus by some pitying God Changed to a crimson flower; when he, whose pride Provoked a retribution too severe, Had pined; upon his watery duplicate Wasting that love the nymphs implored in vain. 85 Thus while my Fancy wanders, thou, clear Spring, Moved (shall I say?) like a dear friend who meets A parting moment with her loveliest look, And seemingly her happiest, look so fair It frustrates its own purpose, and recalls 90 The grieved one whom it meant to send away-- Dost tempt me by disclosures exquisite To linger, bending over thee: for now, What witchcraft, mild enchantress, may with thee Compare! thy earthly bed a moment past 95 Palpable to sight as the dry ground, Eludes perception, not by rippling air Concealed, nor through effect of some impure Upstirring; but, abstracted by a charm Of my own cunning, earth mysteriously 100 From under thee hath vanished, and slant beams The silent inquest of a western sun, Assisting, lucid well-spring! Thou revealest Communion without check of herbs and flowers, And the vault’s hoary sides to which they cling, 105 Imaged in downward show; the flower, the Herbs,[397] _These_ not of earthly texture, and the vault Not _there_ diminutive, but through a scale Of vision less and less distinct, descending To gloom imperishable. So (if truths 110 The highest condescend to be set forth By processes minute), even so--when thought Wins help from something greater than herself-- Is the firm basis of habitual sense Supplanted, not for treacherous vacancy 115 And blank dissociation from a world We love, but that the residues of flesh, Mirrored, yet not too strictly, may refine To Spirit; for the idealising Soul Time wears the features of Eternity; 120 And Nature deepens into Nature’s God. Millions of kneeling Hindoos at this day Bow to the watery element, adored In their vast stream, and if an age hath been (As books and haply votive altars vouch) 125 When British floods were worshipped, some faint trace Of that idolatry, through monkish rites Transmitted far as living memory, Might wait on thee, a silent monitor, On thee, bright Spring, a bashful little one, 130 Yet to the measure of thy promises True, as the mightiest; upon thee, sequestered For meditation, nor inopportune For social interest such as I have shared. Peace to the sober matron who shall dip 135 Her pitcher here at early dawn, by me No longer greeted--to the tottering sire, For whom like service, now and then his choice, Relieves the tedious holiday of age-- Thoughts raised above the Earth while here he sits 140 Feeding on sunshine--to the blushing girl Who here forgets her errand, nothing loth To be waylaid by her betrothed, peace And pleasure sobered down to happiness! But should these hills be ranged by one whose soul 145 Scorning love-whispers shrinks from love itself As Fancy’s snare for female vanity, Here may the aspirant find a trysting-place For loftier intercourse. The Muses crowned With wreaths that have not faded to this hour 150 Sprung from high Jove, of sage Mnemosyne Enamoured, so the fable runs; but they Certes were self-taught damsels, scattered births Of many a Grecian vale, who sought not praise, And, heedless even of listeners, warbled out 155 Their own emotions given to mountain air In notes which mountain echoes would take up Boldly and bear away to softer life; Hence deified as sisters they were bound Together in a never-dying choir; 160 Who with their Hippocrene and grottoed fount Of Castaly, attest that Woman’s heart Was in the limpid age of this stained world The most assured seat of [ ] And new-born waters, deemed the happiest source 165 Of inspiration for the conscious lyre. Lured by the crystal element in times Stormy and fierce, the Maid of Arc withdrew From human converse to frequent alone The Fountain of the Fairies. What to her, 170 Smooth summer dreams, old favours of the place. Pageant and revels of blithe elves--to her Whose country groan’d under a foreign scourge? She pondered murmurs that attuned her ear For the reception of far other sounds 175 Than their too happy minstrelsy,--a Voice Reached her with supernatural mandate charged More awful than the chambers of dark earth Have virtue to send forth. Upon the marge Of the benignant fountain, while she stood 180 Gazing intensely, the translucent lymph Darkened beneath the shadow of her thoughts As if swift clouds swept o’er it, or caught War’s tincture, ’mid the forest green and still, Turned into blood before her heart-sick eye. 185 Erelong, forsaking all her natural haunts, All her accustomed offices and cares Relinquishing, but treasuring every law And grace of feminine humanity, The chosen Rustic urged a warlike steed 190 Toward the beleaguered city, in the might Of prophecy, accoutred to fulfil, At the sword’s point, visions conceived in love. The cloud of rooks descending thro’ mid air Softens its evening uproar towards a close[398] 195 Near and more near; for this protracted strain A warning not unwelcome. Fare thee well! Emblem of equanimity and truth, Farewell!--if thy composure be not ours, Yet as thou still, when we are gone, wilt keep 200 Thy living chaplet of fresh flowers and fern, Cherished in shade tho’ peeped at[399] by the sun; So shall our bosoms feel a covert growth Of grateful recollections, tribute due To thy obscure and modest attributes 205 To thee, dear Spring,[400] and all-sustaining Heaven!

[396] The MS. has a second reading, “covetous hand.”--ED.

[397] In MS. also “its herbs.”--ED.

[398]

… to a close

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

[399]

… pecked at …

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

[400]

… clear Spring …

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

“I, WHOSE PRETTY VOICE YOU HEAR”

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

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

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

WM. WORDSWORTH.

RYDAL MOUNT, _Shortest Day, 1826_.

1827

TO MY NIECE DORA

BY DOROTHY WORDSWORTH

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

Confiding hopes of youthful hearts, And each bright visionary scheme, Shall here remain in vivid hues The hues of a celestial dream.

The farewell of the laurelled Knight 5 Traced by a brave but tremulous hand, Pledge of his truth and loyalty Thro’ changeful years, unchanged shall stand.

But why should I inscribe my name, No Poet I--no longer young? 10 The ambition of a loving heart Makes garrulous the tongue.

Memorials of thy aged Friend Dora thou dost not need; And when the cold earth covers her 15 No flattery shall she heed.

Yet still a lurking wish prevails That when from life we all have passed The friends who loved thy Father’s name On her’s a thought may cast. 20

DOROTHY WORDSWORTH.

_January 1827._

1829

“MY LORD AND LADY DARLINGTON”

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

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

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

1833

TO THE UTILITARIANS

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

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

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

1835

“THRONED IN THE SUN’S DESCENDING CAR”

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

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

Throned in the Sun’s descending car, What Power unseen diffuses far This tenderness of mind? What Genius smiles on yonder flood? What God in whispers from the wood 5 Bids every thought be kind?

O ever-pleasing solitude, Companion of the wise and good.

Thy shades, thy silence, now be mine Thy charms my only theme; 10

Why haunt the hollow cliff whose Pine Waves o’er the gloomy stream; Whence the scared Owl on pinions grey Breaks from the rustling boughs, And down the lone vale sails away 15 To more profound repose!

[401] See his Ode V., _Against Suspicion_, stanza viii.--ED.

[402] See his poem, _Retirement_, 1758.--ED.

[403] See his _Hymn on Solitude_, which begins, “Hail, ever-pleasing Solitude!”--ED.

“AND OH! DEAR SOOTHER OF THE PENSIVE BREAST”

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

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

1836

“SAID RED-RIBBONED EVANS”

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

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

1837

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

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

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

1838

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

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

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

PROTEST AGAINST THE BALLOT, 1838[404]

Composed 1838.--Published 1838

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

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

Then follows the sonnet beginning--

Said Secrecy to Cowardice and Fraud.

ED.

“SAID SECRECY TO COWARDICE AND FRAUD”

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

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

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

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

A POET TO HIS GRANDCHILD

(SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING)[407]

Published 1838

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

[407] “The foregoing” was the Sonnet named _A Plea for Authors, May 1838_.--ED.

[408] 1836.

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

MS.

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

This sonnet was not addressed to any grandson of the Poet’s.--ED.

1840

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

Composed 1840.--Published 1850

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

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

RYDAL MOUNT, _New Year’s Day, 1840_.

[410] See the note to the next sonnet.--ED.

TO I.F.[411]

Composed 1840.--Published 1850

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

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

RYDAL MOUNT, _Feb. 1840_.

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

[412] 1850.

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

1840.

“OH BOUNTY WITHOUT MEASURE, WHILE THE GRACE”

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

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

_7th April 1840. My 70th Birthday._

W.W.

1842

THE EAGLE AND THE DOVE[413]

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

Composed (?).--Published 1842

Shade of Caractacus, if spirits love The cause they fought for in their earthly home, To see the Eagle ruffled by the Dove May soothe thy memory of the chains of Rome.

These children claim thee for their sire; the breath 5 Of thy renown, from Cambrian mountains, fans A flame within them that despises death, And glorifies the truant youth of Vannes.

With thy own scorn of tyrants they advance, But truth divine has sanctified their rage, 10 A silver cross enchased with flowers of France Their badge, attests the holy fight they wage.

The shrill defiance of the young crusade Their veteran foes mock as an idle noise; But unto Faith and Loyalty comes aid 15 From Heaven, gigantic force to beardless boys.

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

GRACE DARLING[414]

Composed 1842.--Published 1845

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

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

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

Among the dwellers in the silent fields The natural heart is touched, and public way And crowded streets resound with ballad strains, Inspired by ONE whose very name bespeaks Favour divine, exalting human love; 5 Whom, since her birth on bleak Northumbria’s coast, Known unto few but prized as far as known, A single Act endears to high and low Through the whole land--to Manhood, moved in spite Of the world’s freezing cares--to generous Youth-- 10 To Infancy, that lisps her praise--to Age Whose eye reflects it, glistening through a tear Of tremulous admiration. Such true fame Awaits her _now_; but, verily, good deeds Do no imperishable record find 15 Save in the rolls of heaven, where hers may live A theme for angels, when they celebrate The high-souled virtues which forgetful earth Has witness’d. Oh! that winds and waves could speak Of things which their united power called forth 20 From the pure depths of her humanity! A Maiden gentle, yet, at duty’s call, Firm and unflinching, as the Lighthouse reared On the Island-rock, her lonely dwelling-place; Or like the invincible Rock itself that braves, 25 Age after age, the hostile elements, As when it guarded holy Cuthbert’s cell.[415]

All night the storm had raged, nor ceased, nor paused, When, as day broke, the Maid, through misty air, Espies far off a Wreck, amid the surf, 30 Beating on one of those disastrous isles-- Half of a Vessel, half--no more; the rest Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there Had for the common safety striven in vain, Or thither thronged for refuge.[416] With quick glance 35 Daughter and Sire through optic-glass discern, Clinging about the remnant of this Ship, Creatures--how precious in the Maiden’s sight! For whom, belike, the old Man grieves still more Than for their fellow-sufferers engulfed 40 Where every parting agony is hushed, And hope and fear mix not in further strife. “But courage, Father! let us out to sea-- A few may yet be saved.” The Daughter’s words, Her earnest tone, and look beaming with faith, 45 Dispel the Father’s doubts: nor do they lack The noble-minded Mother’s helping hand To launch the boat; and with her blessing cheered, And inwardly sustained by silent prayer, Together they put forth, Father and Child! 50 Each grasps an oar, and struggling on they go-- Rivals in effort; and, alike intent Here to elude and there surmount, they watch The billows lengthening, mutually crossed And shattered, and re-gathering their might; 55 As if the tumult, by the Almighty’s will Were, in the conscious sea, roused and prolonged,[417] That woman’s fortitude--so tried, so proved-- May brighten more and more! True to the mark, They stem the current of that perilous gorge, 60 Their arms still strengthening with the strengthening heart, Though danger, as the Wreck is near’d, becomes More imminent. Not unseen do they approach; And rapture, with varieties of fear Incessantly conflicting, thrills the frames 65 Of those who, in that dauntless energy, Foretaste deliverance; but the least perturbed Can scarcely trust his eyes, when he perceives That of the pair--tossed on the waves to bring Hope to the hopeless, to the dying, life-- 70 One is a Woman, a poor earthly sister, Or, be the Visitant other than she seems, A guardian Spirit sent from pitying Heaven, In woman’s shape. But why prolong the tale, Casting weak words amid a host of thoughts 75 Armed to repel them? Every hazard faced And difficulty mastered, with resolve That no one breathing should be left to perish, This last remainder of the crew are all Placed in the little boat, then o’er the deep 80 Are safely borne, landed upon the beach, And, in fulfilment of God’s mercy, lodged Within the sheltering Lighthouse.--Shout, ye Waves! Send forth a song of triumph. Waves and Winds, Exult in this deliverance wrought through faith 85 In Him whose Providence your rage hath served![418] Ye screaming Sea-mews, in the concert join! And would that some immortal Voice--a Voice Fitly attuned to all that gratitude Breathes out from floor or couch, through pallid lips 90 Of the survivors--to the clouds might bear-- Blended with praise of that parental love, Beneath whose watchful eye the Maiden grew Pious and pure, modest and yet so brave, Though young so wise, though meek so resolute-- 95 Might carry to the clouds and to the stars, Yea, to celestial Choirs, GRACE DARLING’S name!

[414] Grace Darling was the daughter of William Darling, the lighthouse keeper on Longstone, one of the Farne Islands on the Northumbrian coast. On the 7th of September 1838, the Forfarshire steamship was wrecked on these islands. At the instigation of his daughter, and accompanied by her, Darling went out in his lifeboat through the surf, to the wreck, and --by their united strength and daring--rescued the nine survivors.--ED.

[415] St. Cuthbert of Durham, born about 635, was first a shepherd boy, then a monk in the monastery of Melrose, and afterwards its prior. He left Melrose for the island monastery of Lindisfarne; but desiring an austerer life than the monastic, he left Lindisfarne, and became an anchorite, in a hut which he built with his own hands, on one of the Farne Islands. He was afterwards induced to accept the bishopric of Hexham, but soon exchanged it for the see in his old island home at Lindisfarne, and after two years there resigned his bishopric, returning to his cell in Farne Island, where he died in 687. His remains were carried to Durham, and placed within a costly shrine.--ED.

[416] Fifty-four persons had perished, before Grace Darling’s lifeboat reached the wreck.--ED.

[417] 1845.

As if the wrath and trouble of the sea Were by the Almighty’s sufferance prolonged,

In privately printed edition.

[418] 1845.

For the last three lines, the privately printed edition has the single one--

Pipe a glad song of triumph, ye fierce Winds.

“WHEN SEVERN’S SWEEPING FLOOD HAD OVERTHROWN”

Composed 23rd January 1842.--Published 1842

In 1842 a bazaar was held in Cardiff Castle to aid in the erection of a Church, on the site of one which had been washed away by a flood in the river Severn (and a consequent influx of waters into the estuary of the British Channel) two hundred years before. Wordsworth and James Montgomery were asked to write some verses, which might be printed and sold to assist the cause. They did so. The following was Wordsworth’s contribution.--ED.

When Severn’s sweeping flood had overthrown St. Mary’s Church, the preacher then would cry:-- “Thus, Christian people, God his might hath shown That ye to him your love may testify; Haste, and rebuild the pile.”--But not a stone 5 Resumed its place. Age after age went by, And Heaven still lacked its due, though piety In secret did, we trust, her loss bemoan. But now her Spirit hath put forth its claim In Power, and Poesy would lend her voice; 10 Let the new Church be worthy of its aim, That in its beauty Cardiff may rejoice! Oh! in the past if cause there was for shame, Let not our times halt in their better choice.

RYDAL MOUNT, _23rd Jan. 1842_.

THE PILLAR OF TRAJAN

The Fenwick note to _The Pillar of Trajan_ mentions that the author’s son having declined to attempt to compete for the Oxford prize poem on “The Pillar of Trajan,” his father wrote it, to show him how the thing might be done. This son--the Rev. John Wordsworth of Brigham--wrote Latin verse with considerable success; and as specimens of the poetic work of Dorothy Wordsworth and of Sarah Hutchinson are included in these volumes, the following _Epistola ad Patrem suum_, written at Madeira by John Wordsworth in 1844, may be reproduced.--ED.

I pete longinquas, non segnis Epistola, terras, I pete, Rydaliae conscia saxa lyrae: I pete quà valles rident, sylvaeque lacusque, Quamvis Arctoo paenè sub axe jacent. Parvos quaere Lares, non aurea Tecta, poetae, 5 Qui tamen ingenii sceptraque mentis habet. Quid faciat genitor? valeatne, an cura senilis Opprimat? Ista refer, filius ista rogat. Scire velit, quare venias tu scripta _latine_? Dic “fugio linguam, magne poeta, tuam! 10 Quem Regina jubet circumdare tempora lauro, Quem verè vatem saecula nostra vocant.” Inde refer gressus responsaque tradita curae Fida tuae, numeris in loca digna senis, Haec ego tradiderim, majoribus ire per altum 15 Nunc velis miserum me mea musa rapit. Solvimus è portu, navisque per aequora currit Neptuni auxilio fluctifragisque rotis. Neptunus videt attonitus, Neptunia conjux, Omnis et aequorei nympha comata chori. 20 Radimus Hispanum litus, loca saxea crebris Gallorum belli nobilitata malis. Haud mora, sunt visae Gades,[419] urbs fabula quondam, Claraque ab Herculeo nomine, clara suo. Hanc magnam cognovit Arabs, Romanus candem, 25 Utraque gens illi vimque decusque tulit. Hora brevis, fragilisque viris! similisque ruina Viribus humanis omnia facta manet Pulchra jaces, olim Carthaginis aemula magnae, Nataque famosae non inhonesta Tyri! 30 En! ratibus navale caret, nautis caret alnus, Mercatorque fugit dives inane Forum. Templa vacant pompâ, nitidisque theatra catervis, Tristis et it foedâ foemina virque via. Segnis in officiis, nec rectus ad aethera miles 35 Pauperis et vestes, armaque juris habet. Sic gens quaeque perit,[420] quando civilia bella Viscera divellunt, jusque fidesque fugit. Auspiciis laetam nostris lux proxima pandit Te, Calpe[421] celsis imperiosa jugis. 40 Urbs munimen habet nullo quassabile bello, Claustrum Tyrrhenis, claustrum et Atlantis, aquis. Undique nam vastae sustentant moenia rupes, Quae torvè in terras inque tuentur aquas. Arteque sunt mirâ sectae per saxa cavernae, 45 Atria sanguineo saeva sacrata Deo. Urbs invicta tamen populis commercia tuta Praebet, et in portus illicit inque Forum. Hic Mercator adest Maurus cui rebus agendis. Ah! nimis est cordi Punica prisca fides; 50 Afer et è mediis Libyae sitientis arenis, Suetus in immundâ vivere barbarie; Multus et aequoreis, ut quondam, Graius in undis, Degener, antiquum sic probat ille genus; Niliacae potator aquae, Judaeus, et omne 55 Litus Tyrrhenum quos, et Atlantis, alit. Hos quàm dissimiles (linguae sive ora notentur) Hos quàm felices pace Britannus habet! Anglia! dum pietas et honos, dum nota per orbem Sit tibi in intacto pectore prisca fides; 60 Dum pia cura tibi, magnos meruisse triumphos, Justaque per populos jura tulisse feros; Longinquas teneat tua vasta potentia terras, Et maneat Calpe gloria magna Tibi! Insula Atlanteis assurgit ab aequoris undis, 65 Insula flammigero semper amata Deo, Seu teneat celsi flagrantia signa Leonis, Seu gyro Pisces interiore petat. “Hic ver assiduum atque alienis mensibus aestas,” Flavus et autumnus frugibus usque tumet. 70 Non jacet Ionio felicior Insula ponto Ulla, nec Eoi fluctibus oceani. Vix, Madeira! tuum nunc refert dicere nomen, Floribus, et Bacchi munere pingue solum. Te vetus haud vanis cumulavit laudibus aetas, 75 O fortunato conspicienda choro! Haec nunc terra sinu nos detinet alma, proculque A Patriae curis, anxietate domi. Sic cepisse ferunt humanae oblivia curae Quisquis Lethaeae pocula sumpsit aquae: 80 Sic semota sequi studiisque odiisque docebas Otia discipulos, docte Epicure, tuos. Sed non ulla dies grato sine sole, nec ullo Fruge carens hortus tempore,[422] fronde nemus;[423] Nec levis ignotis oneratus odoribus aer, 85 Quales doctus equum flectere novit Arabs; Nec caecae quaecumque jacent sub rupe cavernae,[424] Queîs nunquam radiis Phoebus adire potest; Nec currentis aquae strepitus,[425] nec saxa, petensque Mons[426] excelsa suis sidera culminibus; 90 Nec tranquilla quies, rerumque oblivia, ponti Suadebunt iterum solicitare vias! Rideat at quamvis haec vultu terra sereno, Tabescit pravo gens malefida jugo: Dum sedet heu! tristis morborum pallor in ore, 95 Crebraque anhelanti pectore tussis inest. Ambitus et luxus, totoque accersita mundo, Queîs omnis populus quoque sub axe peril; Famae dira sitis, rerumque onerosa cupido, Raptaque ab irato templa diesque Deo, 100 Supplicium non lene suum, poenasque tulerunt; Saepè petis proprio, vir miser, ense latus! Uxor adhuc aegros dilecta resuscitat artus; Anxia cura suis, anxia cura mihi. Altera quodque dies jam roboris attulit, illud 105 Altera dura suis febribus abstulerit. Aurea mens illi, mollique in pectore corda, Et clarum longâ nobilitate genus. Quanquàm saepe trahunt Libycum non[427] aera sanum (Gratia magna Dei), pignora nostra vigent. 110 Iamque vale grandaeve Pater, grandaevaque Mater, Tuque O dilecto conjuge laeta soror! Quaeque pias nobis partes cognata ferebas, Nomina vana cadunt, Tu mihi Mater eras; Ingenioque mari, pietate ornata fideque, 115 Sanguine nulla domûs, semper amore, soror; Tu quoque, care, vale, Frater, quamvis procul absis, Per virides campos, quà petit aequor Eden. Denique tota domus, cunctique valete propinqui, Carmina plura mihi musa manusque negat. 120

MADEIRAE, _MARTIIS CALENDIS_, 1844.

[419] Cadiz.

[420] Hispania hoc tempore bello civili divulsa fuit.

[421] Gibraltar.

[422] Sunt hibernis mensibus aurea mala.

[423] Laureae sylvae sunt.

[424] Antris abundat Insula.

[425] Multos rivos naturâ, mirâque humani ingenii arte constructos continet Madeira.

[426] Pace Lusitanorum Insula nil nisi mons est, rectis culminibus mari conspicua.

[427] Ventus ex Africa.--_Leste._

See also the _Carmen Maiis calendis compositum_, the _Carmen ad Maium mensem_, and the _Somnivaga_,--evidently by the same writer,--in the appendix to the second edition of _Yarrow Revisited_, 1836.--ED.

1846

“DEIGN, SOVEREIGN MISTRESS! TO ACCEPT A LAY”

In January 1846 Wordsworth sent a copy of his Poems to the Queen, for the Royal Library at Windsor, and inscribed the following lines upon the fly-leaf. For their republication I am indebted to the gracious permission of Her Majesty.--ED.

Deign, Sovereign Mistress![428] to accept a lay, No Laureate offering of elaborate art; But salutation taking its glad way From deep recesses of a loyal heart.

Queen, Wife, and Mother! may All-judging Heaven 5 Shower with a bounteous hand on Thee and Thine Felicity that only can be given On earth to goodness blest by grace divine.

Lady! devoutly honoured and beloved Through every realm confided to thy sway; 10 Mayst thou pursue thy course by God approved, And He will teach thy people to obey.

As thou art wont, thy sovereignty adorn With woman’s gentleness, yet firm and staid; So shall that earthly crown thy brows have worn 15 Be changed for one whose glory cannot fade.

And now, by duty urged, I lay this Book Before thy Majesty, in humble trust That on its simplest pages thou wilt look With a benign indulgence more than just. 20

Nor wilt thou blame an aged Poet’s prayer, That issuing hence may steal into thy mind Some solace under weight of royal care, Or grief--the inheritance of humankind.

For know we not that from celestial spheres, 25 When Time was young, an inspiration came (Oh, were it mine!) to hallow saddest tears, And help life onward in its noblest aim.

W.W.

_9th January 1846._

[428] Compare the address presented by the Deputies of the Kingdom of Italy to Buonaparte, on Oct. 27, 1808, beginning, “Deign, Sovereign Master of all Things.”--ED.

1847

ODE, PERFORMED IN THE SENATE-HOUSE, CAMBRIDGE, ON THE 6TH OF JULY 1847, AT THE FIRST COMMENCEMENT AFTER THE INSTALLATION OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE ALBERT, CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY.[429]

INSTALLATION ODE

Composed 1847.--Published 1847.

INTRODUCTION AND CHORUS

For thirst of power that Heaven disowns, For temples, towers, and thrones, Too long insulted by the Spoiler’s shock, Indignant Europe cast Her stormy foe at last To reap the whirlwind on a Libyan rock.

SOLO.--TENOR

War is passion’s basest game Madly played to win a name; Up starts some tyrant, Earth and Heaven to dare; The servile million bow; But will the lightning glance aside to spare The Despot’s laurelled brow?

CHORUS

War is mercy, glory, fame, Waged in Freedom’s holy cause; Freedom, such as Man may claim Under God’s restraining laws. Such is Albion’s fame and glory: Let rescued Europe tell the story.

RECIT. (_accompanied_).--CONTRALTO

But lo, what sudden cloud has darkened all The land as with a funeral pall? The Rose of England suffers blight, The flower has drooped, the Isle’s delight, Flower and bud together fall-- A Nation’s hopes lie crushed in Claremont’s desolate hall.

AIR.--SOPRANO

Time a chequered mantle wears;-- Earth awakes from wintry sleep; Again the Tree a blossom bears,-- Cease, Britannia, cease to weep! Hark to the peals on this bright May-morn! They tell that your future Queen is born!

SOPRANO SOLO AND CHORUS

A Guardian Angel fluttered Above the Babe, unseen; One word he softly uttered-- It named the future Queen: And a joyful cry through the Island rang, As clear and bold as the trumpet’s clang, As bland as the reed of peace-- “VICTORIA be her name!” For righteous triumphs are the base Whereon Britannia rests her peaceful fame.

QUARTETT

Time, in his mantle’s sunniest fold, Uplifted in his arms the child; And, while the fearless Infant smiled, Her happier destiny foretold:-- “Infancy, by Wisdom mild, Trained to health and artless beauty; Youth, by Pleasure unbeguiled From the lore of lofty duty; Womanhood in pure renown, Seated on her lineal throne: Leaves of myrtle in her Crown, Fresh with lustre all their own. Love, the treasure worth possessing More than all the world beside, This shall be her choicest blessing, Oft to royal hearts denied.”

RECIT. (_accompanied_).--BASS

That eve, the Star of Brunswick shone With stedfast ray benign On Gotha’s ducal roof, and on The softly flowing Leine; Nor failed to gild the spires of Bonn, And glittered on the Rhine.-- Old Camus too on that prophetic night Was conscious of the ray; And his willows whispered in its light, Not to the Zephyr’s sway, But with a Delphic life, in sight Of this auspicious day:

CHORUS

This day, when Granta hails her chosen Lord, And proud of her award, Confiding in the Star serene Welcomes the Consort of a happy Queen.

AIR.--CONTRALTO

Prince, in these Collegiate bowers, Where Science, leagued with holier truth, Guards the sacred heart of youth, Solemn monitors are ours. These reverend aisles, these hallowed towers, Raised by many a hand august, Are haunted by majestic Powers, The memories of the Wise and Just, Who, faithful to a pious trust, Here, in the Founder’s spirit sought To mould and stamp the ore of thought In that bold form and impress high That best betoken patriot loyalty. Not in vain those Sages taught.-- True disciples, good as great, Have pondered here their country’s weal, Weighed the Future by the Past, Learned how social frames may last, And how a Land may rule its fate By constancy inviolate, Though worlds to their foundations reel, The sport of factious Hate or godless Zeal.

AIR.--BASS

Albert, in thy race we cherish A Nation’s strength that will not perish While England’s sceptered Line True to the King of Kings is found; Like that Wise[430] Ancestor of thine Who threw the Saxon shield o’er Luther’s life, When first, above the yells of bigot strife, The trumpet of the Living Word Assumed a voice of deep portentous sound From gladdened Elbe to startled Tiber heard.

CHORUS

What shield more sublime E’er was blazoned or sung? And the PRINCE whom we greet From its Hero is sprung. Resound, resound the strain That hails him for our own! Again, again, and yet again; For the Church, the State, the Throne!-- And that Presence fair and bright, Ever blest wherever seen, Who deigns to grace our festal rite, The pride of the Islands, VICTORIA THE QUEEN!

[429] This “Ode” was printed and sung at Cambridge on the occasion of the installation of His Royal Highness Prince Albert as Chancellor of the University. It was published in the newspapers of the following day, as “written for the occasion by the Poet Laureate, by royal command.”

There is no evidence, however, that Wordsworth wrote a single line of it. Dr. Cradock used to attribute the authorship to the poet’s nephew, the late Bishop of Lincoln. It is much more likely that Edward Quillinan was the author of the whole, although Christopher Wordsworth may have revised it. Mr. Aubrey de Vere wrote to me, November 12, 1893, “It was from Miss Fenwick that I heard that the Laureate poem (_Ode, etc._), was written by Quillinan, at Wordsworth’s request, he having himself wholly failed in a reluctant attempt to write one. If he _had_ written it, I doubt much whether he would ever have admitted it to a place among his works, for he did not hold ‘Laureate Odes’ in honour, and had only taken the Laureateship on the condition that he was to write none. Tennyson made the same condition: which could not, of course, interfere with either poet addressing lines to the Queen, if they felt specially moved from within to do so.”

Miss Frances Arnold writes, “Miss Quillinan was my authority for saying that the Cambridge Ode had been written by her father, owing to the deep depression in which Wordsworth then was.”--ED.

[430] Frederic the Wise, Elector of Saxony (1847).

TO MISS SELLON

This sonnet exists, _in Wordsworth’s handwriting_; but it is doubtful whether it was written by him, or not. Possibly Mr. Quillinan wrote it. The place, and the date of composition--given in MS.--are, “Ambleside, 22nd February, 1849.” Miss Sellon was a relation of the late Count Cavour.--ED.

The vestal priestess of a sisterhood who knows No self, and whom the selfish scorn-- She seeks a wilderness of weed and thorn, And, undiverted from the blessed mood By keen reproach or blind ingratitude, 5 A wreath she twines of blossoms lowly born-- An amaranthine crown of flowers forlorn-- And hangs her garland on the Holy Rood. Sister of Mercy, bravely hast thou won From men who winnow charity from Faith 10 The Pharasaic sneer that treats as dross The works by faith ordained. Pursue thy path, Till, at the last, thou hear the voice--“Well done, Thou good and faithful servant of the Cross.”

“THE WORSHIP OF THIS SABBATH MORN”

BY DOROTHY WORDSWORTH

These lines were published in _The Monthly Packet_, in July 1891, where the following note is appended by Miss Christabel Coleridge:--“Written _circa_ 1852-3, and given to Mrs. Derwent Coleridge.” But Miss Edith Coleridge, and Mr. E. H. Coleridge, tell me that they think they “belong to an earlier period.” Mr. Coleridge writes, “I have heard Miss Wordsworth repeat the lines now printed, seated in her arm-chair, on the terrace at Rydal Mount.”--ED.

The worship of this Sabbath morn, How sweetly it begins! With the full choral hymn of birds Mingles no sad lament for sins.

Alas! my feet no more may join 5 The cheerful Sabbath train; But if I inwardly lament, Oh! may a will subdued all grief restrain.

No prisoner am I on this couch, My mind is free to roam, 10 And leisure, peace, and loving friends, Are the best treasures of an earthly home.

Such gifts are mine, then why deplore The body’s slow decay? A warning mercifully sent 15 To fix my hopes upon a surer stay.

A WORDSWORTH BIBLIOGRAPHY

I.--_GREAT BRITAIN_

I

EDITIONS PUBLISHED DURING WORDSWORTH’S LIFETIME

In the Bibliographies by Mr. Tutin and Professor Dowden there are numerous and valuable details as to these editions, which it is unnecessary to reproduce here.--ED.

1

1793. AN EVENING WALK. An Epistle; in verse. Addressed to a Young Lady, from the Lakes of the North of England. By W. Wordsworth, B. A., of St. John’s, Cambridge. London: printed for J. Johnson, St. Paul’s Church-yard. 4to.

2

1793. DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES. In verse. Taken during a pedestrian tour in the Italian, Grison, Swiss, and Savoyard Alps. By W. Wordsworth, B. A., of St. John’s, Cambridge. Loca pastorum deserta atque otia dia.--_Lucret._ Castella in tumulis--Et longe saltus lateque vacantes.--_Virgil._ London: printed for J. Johnson, St. Paul’s Churchyard. 4to.

3

1798. LYRICAL BALLADS, with a few other Poems. Bristol: printed by Biggs and Cottle; for T. N. Longman, Paternoster-Row, London. 8vo.

1798. LYRICAL BALLADS, with a few other Poems. London: printed for J. & A. Arch, Gracechurch Street. 8vo.[431]

4

1800. LYRICAL BALLADS, with other Poems. In two volumes. By W. Wordsworth. Quam nihil ad genium. Papiniane, tuum! Vol. I. Second Edition. [Vol. II.] London: printed for T. N. Longman and O. Rees, Paternoster-Row, by Biggs and Co., Bristol. 8vo.[432]

5

1802. LYRICAL BALLADS, with Pastoral and other Poems. In two volumes. By W. Wordsworth. Quam nihil ad genium, Papiniane, tuum! Third Edition. London: printed for T. N. Longman & O. Rees, Paternoster-Row, by Biggs and Cottle, Crane-Court, Fleet-Street. 8vo.[433]

6

1805. LYRICAL BALLADS, with Pastoral and other Poems. In two volumes. By W. Wordsworth. Quam nihil ad genium, Papiniane, tuum! Fourth Edition. London: printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, & Orme, by R. Taylor and Co., 38 Shoe Lane. 8vo.[434]

7

1807. POEMS, in two volumes, By William Wordsworth, Author of the Lyrical Ballads. _Posterius graviore sono tibi Musa loquetur Nostra, dabunt cum securos mihi tempora fructus._ Vol. I. [Vol. II.] London: printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, Paternoster-Row. 12mo.

8

1809. CONCERNING THE RELATIONS OF GREAT BRITAIN, SPAIN, AND PORTUGAL, TO EACH OTHER, AND TO THE COMMON ENEMY, AT THIS CRISIS; and specifically as affected by the Convention of Cintra: _The whole brought to the test of those principles by which alone the Independence and Freedom of Nations can be Preserved or Recovered_. Qui didicit patriae quid debeat;--Quod sit conscripti, quod judicis officium; quae Partes in bellum missi ducis. By William Wordsworth. London: printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.

9

1814. THE EXCURSION, being a portion of The Recluse, a Poem. By William Wordsworth. London: printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 4to.[435]

10

1815. POEMS BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH: including Lyrical Ballads, and the Miscellaneous Pieces of the Author. With additional Poems, a new Preface, and a Supplementary Essay. In two volumes. Vol. I. [Vol. II.] London: printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.[436]

11

1815. THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE; OR, THE FATE OF THE NORTONS. A Poem. By William Wordsworth. London: Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row, by James Ballantyne and Co., Edinburgh. 4to.[437]

12

1816. A LETTER TO A FRIEND OF ROBERT BURNS: occasioned by an intended republication of the account of the Life of Burns, by Dr. Currie; and of the Selection made by him from his Letters. By William Wordsworth. London: Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.[438]

13

1816. THANKSGIVING ODE, January 18, 1816. With other short Pieces, chiefly referring to Recent Public Events. By William Wordsworth. London: Printed by Thomas Davison, Whitefriars; for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.

14

1818. TWO ADDRESSES TO THE FREEHOLDERS OF WESTMORELAND. Kendal: Printed by Airy and Bellingham. 8vo.

15

1819. PETER BELL, a Tale in Verse, by William Wordsworth. London: Printed by Strahan and Spottiswoode. Printers-Street; for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.[439]

16

1819. PETER BELL, A Tale in Verse, by William Wordsworth. Second Edition. London: Printed by Strahan and Spottiswoode, Printers-Street; for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.

17

1819. THE WAGGONER, a Poem, to which are added, Sonnets. By William Wordsworth. “What’s in a NAME?” “Brutus will start a Spirit as soon as Cæsar,” London: Printed by Strahan & Spottiswoode, Printers-Street; for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, & Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.[440]

18

1820. THE RIVER DUDDON, a Series of Sonnets; Vaudracour and Julia: and other Poems. To which is annexed, a Topographical Description of the Country of the Lakes, in the North of England. By William Wordsworth. London: Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.[441]

19

1820. THE MISCELLANEOUS POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. In four volumes. London: Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 12mo.[442]

20

1820. THE EXCURSION, being a portion of The Recluse, A Poem. By William Wordsworth. Second Edition. London: Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.

21

1822. MEMORIALS OF A TOUR ON THE CONTINENT, 1820. By William Wordsworth. London: Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.

22

1822. ECCLESIASTICAL SKETCHES. By William Wordsworth. London: Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.[443]

23

1822. A DESCRIPTION OF THE SCENERY OF THE LAKES IN THE NORTH OF ENGLAND. Third Edition (now first published separately), with additions, and illustrative remarks upon the Scenery of the Alps. By William Wordsworth. London: printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 12mo.[444]

24

1827. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. In five volumes. London: Printed for Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green, Paternoster-Row. 12mo.[445]

25

1828. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Complete in one volume. Paris: Published by A. and W. Galignani, No. 18, Rue Vivienne. 8vo.[446]

26

1831. SELECTIONS FROM THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, ESQ., chiefly for the use of Schools and Young Persons. London: Edward Moxon, 64 New Bond Street. 12mo.[447]

27

1832. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. A new Edition. In four volumes. London: Printed for Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, & Longman, Paternoster-Row. 8vo.[448]

28

SELECTIONS FROM THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, ESQ., chiefly for the use of Schools and young persons. A New Edition. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXXXIV.

29

The Memorial Lines “Written after the Death of Charles Lamb” were issued privately, without title or date, probably late in 1835, or early in 1836. 8vo. pp. 7.

30

1835. YARROW REVISITED, AND OTHER POEMS. By William Wordsworth.

Poets … dwell on earth To clothe whate’er the soul admires and loves; With language and with numbers.--AKENSIDE.

London: printed for Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, & Longman, Paternoster-Row; and Edward Moxon, Dover Street. 12mo.

31

1835. A GUIDE THROUGH THE DISTRICT OF THE LAKES IN THE NORTH OF ENGLAND, with a Description of the Scenery, &c. For the use of Tourists and Residents. Fifth Edition, with considerable additions. By William Wordsworth. Kendal: published by Hudson and Nicholson; and in London by Longman & Co., Moxon, and Whittaker and Co. 12mo.

32

1836. YARROW REVISITED, AND OTHER POEMS. By William Wordsworth.

Poets … dwell on earth To clothe whate’er the soul admires and loves; With language and with numbers.--AKENSIDE.

Second Edition. London: printed for Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, & Longman, Paternoster-Row; and Edward Moxon, Dover Street. 8vo.[449]

33

THE EXCURSION. A Poem. By William Wordsworth. A New Edition. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXXXVI. 8vo.[450]

34

THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. A New Edition. In six volumes. Vol. I. (Vol. II.-VI.) London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXXXVI.-MDCCCXXXVII. Fcap. 8vo.[451]

35

THE SONNETS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Collected in one volume, with a few additional ones, now first published. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXXXVIII. 8vo.[452]

36

YARROW REVISITED; AND OTHER POEMS. By William Wordsworth. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXXXIX. 18mo.[453]

37

POEMS, CHIEFLY OF EARLY AND LATE YEARS; including The Borderers, a Tragedy. By William Wordsworth. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXLII. 8vo.[454]

38

1843. SELECT PIECES FROM THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. London: James Burns. Sq. 12mo.[455]

39

1844. KENDAL AND WINDERMERE RAILWAY. Two Letters, re-printed from the Morning Post. Revised, with additions. Kendal: printed by R. Branthwaite and Son.

40

1845. THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, D.C.L., Poet Laureate, etc. etc. A New Edition. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXLV. Royal 8vo.[456]

41

1847. ODE, performed in the Senate-House, Cambridge, on the sixth of July, M.DCCC.XLVII. At the first commencement after the Installation of his Royal Highness the Prince Albert, Chancellor of the University. Cambridge: printed at the University Press. 4to.

42

1847. ODE on the installation of His Royal Highness Prince Albert as Chancellor of the University of Cambridge. By William Wordsworth, Poet Laureate. London: Printed, by permission, by Vizetelley Brothers & Co. Published by George Bell, Fleet Street. 4to.

43

THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, D.C.L., Poet Laureate, etc. etc. In six volumes. A New Edition. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXLIX.-MDCCCL. 12mo.[457]

[431] These two editions of 1798 are the same; but as Cottle sold to Arch most of the copies printed, the majority bear the name of Arch as publisher.

Four of the poems were by S.T. Coleridge, viz. _The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere_; _The Foster-Mother’s Tale_; _The Nightingale, a Conversational Poem_; and _The Dungeon_.--ED.

[432] The first volume of this edition is a reprint of the editions of 1798, _The Convict_ being left out. In it there is one poem by Coleridge entitled _Love_, which was not in the edition of 1798. The poems in the second volume are new. The preface to Volume 1. contains Wordsworth’s poetical theory in its original form. This preface was included in the 1802 and 1805 editions of Lyrical Ballads, and also--in an expanded form--in almost every subsequent edition of his poems.--ED.

[433] This was almost a reproduction of the two volumes of 1800, with a few variations of text. The preface, however, was much enlarged. The poem _A Character in the Antithetical Manner_ was left out, also Coleridge’s poem _The Dungeon_.--ED.

[434] A reprint of the edition of 1802, with slight variations of text.--ED.

[435] The _Essay on Epitaphs_ inserted in the notes to this volume was originally published in _The Friend_, February 22, 1810.--ED.

[436] This was the first edition of Wordsworth’s Poems arranged by him under distinctive headings, viz. “Poems referring to the Period of Childhood,” “Juvenile Pieces,” “Poems founded on the Affections,” “Poems of the Fancy,” “Poems of the Imagination,” “Poems proceeding from Sentiment and Reflection,” “Miscellaneous Sonnets,” “Sonnets, etc., dedicated to Liberty,” “Poems on the Naming of Places,” “Inscriptions,” “Poems referring to the Period of Old Age,” “Epitaphs and Elegiac Poems,” “Ode, Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Childhood.” In it, he gave _dates_ to his poems.

In Volume I. is an engraving by Mr. Bromley from a picture by Sir George Beaumont; Volume II. has an engraving by Mr. Reynolds from Sir George’s picture of Peele Castle in a storm.--ED.

[437] The poem _The Force of Prayer; or, the Founding of Bolton Priory_ follows the _White Doe of Rylstone_; and the volume contains an engraving by Mr. Bromley from a painting of Bolton Abbey by Sir George Beaumont.--ED.

[438] The “Friend” was Mr. James Gray, Edinburgh.--ED.

[439] The volume contains an engraving by Mr. Bromley from a painting by Sir George Beaumont. In addition to _Peter Bell_, this volume contained four sonnets.--ED.

[440] This volume was dedicated to Charles Lamb.--ED.

[441] In 1820 the four separate publications, _The Waggoner_, etc., _Thanksgiving Ode_, etc., _Peter Bell_, etc., and _The River Duddon, Vaudracour and Julia_, etc., were bound up together with their separate title-pages, and issued under the title, _Poems by William Wordsworth_, making Volume III. of the _Miscellaneous Poems_.--ED.

[442] Each of these volumes contained an engraving from a picture by Sir George Beaumont. They were “Lucy Gray,” “Peter Bell,” “The White Doe of Rylstone,” and “Peele Castle.” All had appeared in previous editions. The “Advertisement” states that this edition contains the whole of the published poems of the Author, with the exception of _The Excursion_, and that a few Sonnets “are now first published.”

It is worthy of note that, in this edition, Wordsworth for the first time abandoned the practice of putting in an apostrophe, instead of a vowel letter, in words ending with “ed,” and in similar cases of contraction.--ED.

[443] Wordsworth added to this series of Sonnets, in the one-volume edition of 1845 which contained 132. In the first edition, there were 102 sonnets.--ED.

[444] This originally appeared as an Introduction to Wilkinson’s _Select Views in Cumberland, Westmoreland, and Lancashire_, which was published in 1810. In 1820 it was included (see No. 18) in _The River Duddon: A Series of Sonnets_. In 1823 a fourth edition appeared which was a reprint of that of 1822.--ED.

[445] To this edition Wordsworth prefixed the following “Advertisement”:--“In these volumes will be found the whole of the Author’s published poems, for the first time collected in a uniform edition, with several new pieces interspersed.”--ED.

[446] In this edition--copied without authority, from the poet or his publishers, and with many errata, from the issue of 1827--there is an engraving of Wordsworth by Mr. Wedgewood, after the portrait by Carruthers, now in the possession of Mr. Hutchinson at Kimbolton. The Galignani edition of Southey is even worse; three poems, not by Southey, being included in it.--ED.

[447] The editor of these selections was Joseph Hine.--ED.

[448] The “Advertisement” to this edition is as follows:--“The contents of the last edition in five volumes are compressed into the present of four, with some additional pieces reprinted from miscellaneous publications.”--ED.

[449] As this volume (No. 32 in the list) was the last printed for the Messrs. Longman, and issued by that firm and by Mr. Moxon jointly, it is desirable to mention here, in a footnote, that, with the exception of _The Evening Walk_ and _Descriptive Sketches_ (which were published by J. Johnson) every one of Wordsworth’s works from 1798 to 1836--thirty in number--were introduced to the world by the Messrs. Longman. It is questionable if any firm has ever had a similar “record” in connection with the works of any great poet.--ED.

[450] A reprint of the sixth volume of the 1836-37 edition. It was again reprinted in 1841, 1844, and 1847.--ED.

[451] Volumes one and two are dated 1836; the remaining four 1837. This edition was stereotyped. It was reprinted in 1840, 1841, 1842, 1843, 1846, 1849, etc.; and some of the reprints contain slight variations of text, etc. All the editions issued after 1841 include the volume, _Poems of Early and Late Years_ (see No. 37) as a seventh volume. After 1850 _The Prelude_ was added as an eighth volume.

In the first volume of this edition there is a steel engraving by Mr. Watt of a portrait of the Poet by W. Pickersgill, which is in St. John’s College, Cambridge. This engraving was reproduced in the editions of 1840, 1841, and following ones.--ED.

[452] This edition includes (as its “Advertisement” tells us) “twelve new Sonnets which were composed while the sheets were going through the press.”--ED.

[453] Mr. Tutin writes in his Wordsworth Bibliography:--“This Pocket edition of _Yarrow Revisited_, etc., is the third separate issue of the Poem. It seems to have been intended as a supplementary volume to the four vol. edition of 1832, as the sheets of it are all imprinted ‘Vol. v.,’ but I have no direct proof that it was ever so issued.”--ED.

[454] In his “Advertisement” the Author states that about one-third of the Poem _Guilt and Sorrow_ was written in 1794, and was published in the year 1798 under the title of _The Female Vagrant_.--ED.

[455] This volume is dedicated “To her Most Sacred Majesty, Victoria.”--ED.

[456] Frequently republished. After 1851 _The Prelude_ was included. The edition of 1869 has “nine additional poems,” dated 1846. All the editions which I have seen contain an engraving by Mr. Finden from the bust of Wordsworth by Chantrey--the original of which is at Coleorton Hall--and a picture of Rydal Mount engraved by Mr. House after Finden. Professor Dowden tells us that, in some later editions “the Pickersgill portrait, engraved by J. Skelton, replaces Chantrey’s bust.” In this edition, as in that of 1815, Wordsworth gave dates to his poems.--ED.

[457] Volumes I. and II. are dated 1849, and Volumes III.-VI. 1850. _The Excursion_ formed the sixth volume. It was reprinted separately in 1851, 1853, and 1857.--ED.

II

EDITIONS OF THE POEMS, AND OF SELECTIONS FROM THEM, PUBLISHED AFTER THE POET’S DEATH.

1

1850. THE PRELUDE, OR GROWTH OF A POET’S MIND; an Autobiographical Poem; by William Wordsworth. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. Demy 8vo.

2

1851. THE PRELUDE, OR GROWTH OF A POET’S MIND; an Autobiographical Poem; By William Wordsworth. Second Edition. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. Fcap. 8vo.

3

1855. SELECT PIECES FROM THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. London: Edward Moxon. Sq. 12mo.

4

1857. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. In six volumes. A new Edition. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. 8vo.[458]

5

THE EARLIER POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Corrected as in the latest Editions. With Preface, and Notes showing the text as it stood in 1815. By William Johnston. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. Fcap. 8vo.

6

1859. THE DESERTED COTTAGE. By William Wordsworth. Illustrated with twenty-one designs by Birket Foster, J. Wolf, and John Gilbert, engraved by the Brothers Dalziel. London: George Routledge and Co., Farringdon Street. New York: 18 Beekman Street. Small 4to.[459]

7

POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Selected and Edited by Robert Aris Willmott, Incumbent of Bear Wood. Illustrated with one hundred designs by Birket Foster, J. Wolf, and John Gilbert, Engraved by the Brothers Dalziel. London: George Routledge and Co., Farringdon Street. New York: 18 Beekman Street, MDCCCLIX. Small 4to.

8

THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE; OR, THE FATE OF THE NORTONS. By William Wordsworth. London: Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans, and Roberts. Small 4to.[460]

9

PASSAGES FROM “THE EXCURSION,” by William Wordsworth, Illustrated with Etchings on Steel by Agnes Fraser. London: published by Paul and Dominic Colnaghi and Co., publishers to Her Majesty, 13 and 14 Pall Mall East. Oblong 4to.[461]

10

THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE; OR, THE FATE OF THE NORTONS. With Illustrations by Birket Foster, and others. London: Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans, and Roberts.

11

PASTORAL POEMS, by William Wordsworth. London: Sampson, Low, etc.

12

1864. THE SELECT POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Copyright Edition. In two volumes. Leipzig, Bernhard Tauchnitz.[462]

13

1865. A SELECTION FROM THE WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, Poet Laureate. Moxon’s Miniature Poets. Selected and arranged by Francis Turner Palgrave. Published in London: Edward Moxon & Co., Dover Street. Sq. 12mo.[463]

14

THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. A new Edition. London: Edward Moxon & Co., Dover Street.

15

1867. THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE; OR, THE FATE OF THE NORTONS. By William Wordsworth. London: Bell and Daldy, 186 Fleet Street. 8vo.[464]

16

1869. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. A new Edition. London: Edward Moxon, Son, & Co., 44 Dover Street, Piccadilly.

17

1870. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Edited, with a critical Memoir, by William Michael Rossetti. Illustrated by artistic etchings by Edwin Edwards. London: E. Moxon, Son, & Co., Dover Street. Small 4to.

18

THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Edited, with a critical Memoir, by William Michael Rossetti. Illustrated by Henry Dell. London: E. Moxon, Son, & Co., Dover Street. 8vo.[465]

19

1876. THE PROSE WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. For the first time collected, with additions from unpublished manuscripts. Edited, with Preface, Notes and Illustrations, by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart, St. George’s, Blackburn, Lancashire. In three volumes. Volume I. Political and Ethical. Volume II. Æsthetical and Literary. Volume III. Critical and Ethical. London: Edward Moxon, Son, and Co., 1 Amen Corner, Paternoster Row. 8vo.

20

1879. POEMS OF WORDSWORTH, chosen and edited by Matthew Arnold. London: Macmillan and Co. 18mo.[466]

21

THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Edited by William Knight, LL.D., Professor of Moral Philosophy, St. Andrews. Edinburgh: William Paterson. MDCCCLXXXII. [MDCCCLXXXII.-- MDCCCLXXXVI.] 8 vols. Demy 8vo.[467]

22

SELECTIONS FROM WORDSWORTH. Edited, with an Introductory Memoir, by J. S. Fletcher. London: Alex. Gardner, 12 Paternoster Row, and Paisley. MDCCCLXXXIII. Fcap. 8vo. Parchment.[468]

23

1883. WINNOWINGS FROM WORDSWORTH. Edited by J. Robertson. Simpkin & Co. 1883.

24

THE BROTHERS, AND OTHER POEMS FOUNDED ON THE AFFECTIONS. 18mo. Collins.

25

1884. THE RIVER DUDDON. A Series of Sonnets. By William Wordsworth. With ten Etchings by R. S. Chattock, The Fine Art Society, 148 New Bond Street, London. Folio.

26

THE SONNETS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Collected in one volume, with an Essay on The History of the English Sonnet by Richard Chenevix Trench, D.D., Archbishop of Dublin, Chancellor of the Order of St. Patrick. London: Suttaby and Co., Amen Corner. MDCCCLXXXIV. 8vo.[469]

27

SELECTIONS FROM WORDSWORTH. By Misses Wordsworth. London: Kegan Paul, & Co. April 8, 1884.

28

THE WORDSWORTH BIRTHDAY BOOK. Edited by Adelaide and Violet Wordsworth. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, & Co.

29

BIRTHDAY TEXTS FROM WORDSWORTH. Edinburgh: W. P. Nimmo. N. D.

30

THE GOLDEN POETS. “Wordsworth.” London: Marcus Ward & Co. N. D.

31

1885. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, With a Prefatory Notice, Biographical and Critical. By Andrew James Symington. London: Walter Scott, 14 Paternoster Square and Newcastle-on-Tyne. 16mo.[470]

32

WORDSWORTH’S EXCURSION. THE WANDERER. Edited, with Notes, etc., by H. H. Turner. London: Rivingtons. N. D.

33

ODE ON IMMORTALITY, AND LINES ON TINTERN ABBEY. Illustrated. Cassell. 4to.

34

TINTERN ABBEY, ODES, AND THE HAPPY WARRIOR. 8vo. Chambers. (Republished in 1892.)

35

1887. THROUGH THE WORDSWORTH COUNTRY. By Harry Goodwin and Professor Knight. London: Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey & Co., Paternoster Square. Imperial 8vo.[471]

36

WORDSWORTH AND KEATS, Selections. In 16mo. M. Ward.

37

1888. THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. With an Introduction by John Morley. With a Portrait. London: Macmillan & Co. Crown 8vo.

38

1888. SELECTIONS FROM WORDSWORTH. By William Knight, and other Members of the Wordsworth Society. With Preface and Notes. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, & Co., 1 Paternoster Square. MDCCCLXXXVIII. Large Crown 8vo.[472]

39

1888. THE RECLUSE. By William Wordsworth. London: Macmillan and Co.[473]

40

1888. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WORDSWORTH. With Memoir, Explanatory Notes, etc. London: Griffith, Farren, & Co., Newbury House, Charing Cross Road.

41

PROSE WRITINGS OF WORDSWORTH: Selected and Edited, with an Introduction, by William Knight. London: Walter Scott. No date.

42

1889. WE ARE SEVEN. Illustrated by Agnes Gardner King. 16mo.

43

1891. LYRICS AND SONNETS OF WORDSWORTH. With Introduction and Bibliography. By Clement R. Shorter. Scott Library. 32mo.

44

THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Edited, with Memoir, by Edward Dowden. London: George Bell & Sons. 1892-1893.[474]

45

1891. LYRICAL BALLADS, ETC. A reprint of the original edition of 1798. Edited by Edward Dowden. London: David Nutt. 16mo.

46

1891. THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE, WITH THE SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE. Edited, with introduction and notes, by William Knight. Oxford: At the Clarendon Press.

47

THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Edinburgh: W.P. Nimmo, Hay, and Mitchell. 1892.

48

WORDSWORTH FOR THE YOUNG. With notes by J.C. Wright. 8vo. 1893.

49

1895. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, with introductions and notes. Edited by Thomas Hutchinson, M.A. London: Henry Froude, Oxford University Press Warehouse, Amen Corner, E.C.

50

THE PENNY POETS, in “The Masterpiece Library.” Wordsworth. Nos. XXXII. and XXXVII.

51

1896. LYRIC POEMS. Edited by Ernest Rhys. 8vo. London: Dent & Co.

52

THE PRELUDE; OR, GROWTH OF A POET’S MIND. 18mo. London: Dent & Co.

53

“The Lansdowne Poets” included one of Wordsworth. The “Albion” edition was published by Messrs. Froude, Oxford University Press.[475]

[458] In this edition--reprinted as “The Centenary Edition” in 1870, 1881, and 1882--the Fenwick notes were printed, for the first time in full, as prefatory notes to the poems.--ED.

[459] Reproduced in 1864.--ED.

[460] It contains illustrations by H. N. Humphreys and Birket Foster.--ED.

[461] This volume contains eleven etchings of varying merit.--ED.

[462] These are volumes 707 and 708 of Tauchnitz’s “Collection of British Authors.”--ED.

[463] It contains a steel engraving from Chantrey’s bust of the Poet. This selection was re-issued in 1866, and 1869; and, recently, in a small pocket edition.--ED.

[464] This is a reprint, in a different form, of No. 8.--ED.

[465] In this edition, which is a reprint, on smaller paper, of No. 19. there is an engraving from one of the portraits of the Poet by Miss Gillies. The engraving first appeared in Volume I. of _The New Spirit of the Age_, edited by R. H. Horne.--ED.

[466] It contains an idealised engraving of one of Haydon’s portraits of Wordsworth, after Lupton, by C. H. Jeens, and on the outside cover a drawing of Dove Cottage.--ED.

[467] In this edition the Poems were arranged for the first time in the chronological order of composition; the changes of text, in the successive editions, were given in footnotes, with the dates of these changes; many new readings, or suggested changes of text--which were written by the Poet on the margins of a copy of the edition of 1836-37, kept at Rydal Mount, and afterwards in the possession of Lord Coleridge--were added; all the Fenwick notes were printed as Prefatory notes; Topographical notes--containing allusions to localities in the English Lake District, and elsewhere--were given; several Poems and Fragments hitherto unpublished were printed; a Bibliography of the Poems, and of editions published in England and America from 1793 to 1850 was added. Etchings of localities associated with the Poet, from drawings by Mr. MacWhirter, were given as frontispieces to Volumes I., II., III., IV., V., VI., and VII. The text adopted was Wordsworth’s final text of 1849-50.--ED.

[468] It contains an engraving of Rydal Mount on the fly-leaf.--ED.

[469] This volume is a reprint of Wordsworth’s own edition of his Sonnets, published in 1838, with the addition of Archbishop Trench’s _History of the English Sonnet_.--ED.

[470] This is one of the volumes of _The Canterbury Poets_. It is only a selection, though described on the title as “The Poetical Works.”--ED.

[471] This volume contains fifty-five engravings from drawings by Harry Goodwin of scenes in the English Lake District associated with Wordsworth, with the poems, or portions of poems, referring to the places.--ED.

[472] The poems are arranged in chronological order of composition; and there is, as frontispiece, an etched portrait of the Poet from a miniature by Margaret Gillies in the possession of Sir Henry Doulton. Amongst those who contributed to it were Robert Browning, James Russell Lowell, the late Lord Selborne, Mr. R. H. Hutton, the Dean of Salisbury, the late Lord Coleridge, the Rev. Stopford Brooke, Mr. Aubrey de Vere, the late Lord Houghton, Canon Rawnsley, the late Principals Shairp and Greenwood and Professor Veitch, Mr. Spence Watson, Mr. Rix, Mr. Heard, Mr. Cotterill, the late Bishop Wordsworth of St. Andrews, and the Editor.--ED.

[473] In the prefatory advertisement to the first edition of _The Prelude_ 1850, it is stated that that poem was designed to be introductory to _The Recluse_, and that _The Recluse_ if completed, would have consisted of three parts. The second part is _The Excursion_. The third part was only planned. The first book of the first part was left in manuscript by Wordsworth. It was published for the first time _in extenso_ in 1888.--ED.

[474] This Aldine edition, by Professor Dowden, is one of great merit, and permanent value. Although it is not immaculate--as no literary work ever is--as a contribution to Wordsworthian Literature it will hold an honoured place. Its “critical apparatus” is succinct and admirable.--ED.

[475] Mr. Andrew Lang tells me that he is about to edit a _Selection_ of the Poems, for the Messrs. Longman; which will, no doubt, be as useful, and popular, as Matthew Arnold’s Selection has been.--ED.

III

ESTIMATES OF WORDSWORTH IN VARIOUS BOOKS[476]

1811. SEWARD, ANNA. Letters written between the Years 1784 and 1807. Edited by A. Constable, vol. vi. No. 66.[477] 8vo. Edinburgh.

1817. COLERIDGE, S. T. Biographia Literaria; or, Biographical Sketches of my Literary Life and Opinions. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Rest Fenner. Second Edition. London: William Pickering. 1847. Bohn’s Standard Library. 1866.

COLERIDGE, S. T. In _The Friend, passim_. Second Edition. London: Rest Fenner.

HAZLITT, WILLIAM. The Round Table: a Collection of Essays on Literature, Men, and Manners. Observations on Mr. Wordsworth’s Poem, “The Excursion.” 12mo. London: Templeman. Also in Bohn’s Standard Library. Edited by W. Carew Hazlitt. Pp. 158-176. London. 1871.

1818. HAZLITT, WILLIAM. Lectures on the English Poets. 8vo. London: Taylor and Hessey. Also in Bohn’s Standard Library. 1870.

1819. HAZLITT, WILLIAM. Political Essays, with Sketches of Public Characters. My First Acquaintance with Poets. 8vo. London: Templeman. Also in Winterslow, pp. 255-277. Bohn’s Standard Library. 1872.

1823. SOLIGNY, VICTOIRE DE, COUNT, _pseud._ (_i.e._ Peter George Patmore, father of the late Coventry Patmore). Letters on England, vol. ii. pp. 7-19. 8vo. London: Henry Colburn and Co.

1824. LANDOR, W. S. Imaginary Conversations of Literary Men and Statesmen. Southey and Porson, i. 39. 8vo. London: Taylor and Hessey. New Edition, i. 11, 68, 182. London: Edward Moxon. 1846. New Edition, iv. 18. London: Chapman and Hall. 1876.

1825. HAZLITT, WILLIAM. The Spirit of the Age; or, Contemporary Portraits. 8vo. London: Henry Colburn and Co.; Fourth Edition. George Bell and Sons. 1886.

1827. HONE, WILLIAM. The Table Book. Wordsworth, ii. 275. 8vo. London: Hunt and Clarke.

COLERIDGE, S. T. Table Talk. July 21, 1832; July 31, 1832; February 16, 1833.

1833. MONTGOMERY, JAMES. Lectures on Poetry and General Literature, delivered at the Royal Institution in 1830 and 1831. Wordsworth’s Theory of Poetic Diction, pp. 134-141. 8vo. London: Longmans.

1836. Conversations at Cambridge. The Poet Wordsworth and Professor Smythe, pp. 235-252. 8vo. London: John W. Parker.

1837. COTTLE, JOSEPH. Early Recollections; chiefly relating to the late Samuel Taylor Coleridge, during his long Residence in Bristol. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Longman, Rees and Co.

1838. CHORLEY, H. F. The Authors of England. 4to. London. New Edition, revised (by G. B.) London. 1861.

HARE, JULIUS C. and AUGUSTUS W. Guesses at Truth, by Two Brothers. Second Series. 8vo. London: Taylor and Walton. The Dedication of this edition is to William Wordsworth. New Edition, in one volume. Macmillan and Co. 1866.

1840. HUNT, LEIGH. The Seer. “Wordsworth and Milton,” pp. 5-53. London: Edward Moxon.

RUSKIN, JOHN. Modern Painters (1843-1860), _passim_ in all the five volumes. London: George Allen.

1843. CHAMBERS, ROBERT. Cyclopædia of English Literature. Wordsworth, ii. 322-333. Fourth Edition, revised by Robert Carruthers, LL.D. 1888. 8vo. Edinburgh: William and Robert Chambers.

1844. HORNE, R. H. A New Spirit of the Age. William Wordsworth and Leigh Hunt, vol. i. pp. 307-332. 12mo. London: Smith, Elder and Co.

KEBLE, JOHN. Praelectiones Academicae Oxonii habitae, annis MDCCCXXXII.-MDCCCXLI., tom. ii. pp. 615, 789. 8vo. Oxonii: J. H. Parker.

1845. GILFILLAN, GEORGE. A Gallery of Literary Portraits. 12mo. Edinburgh: Groombridge.

CRAIK, E. L. Sketches of the History of Literature and Learning in England. Vol. vi., pp. 114-139. London: Charles Knight.

1847. HOWITT, WILLIAM. Homes and Haunts of the most eminent British Poets, vol. ii. pp. 259-291. 8vo. London: Richard Bentley. Third Edition. Routledge and Sons. 1862.

TUCKERMAN, HENRY T. Thoughts on the Poets. 8vo. London: J. Chapman.

1849. GILFILLAN, GEORGE. A Second Gallery of Literary Portraits. 8vo. Edinburgh: Groombridge.

SHAW, THOMAS B. Outlines of English Literature. Wordsworth, pp. 518-526. 8vo. London: John Murray. Sixteenth Edition, edited by William Smith, D.C.L. 1887.

TAYLOR, HENRY. Notes from Books. In four Essays. Wordsworth’s Poetical Works and Sonnets, pp. 1-186. 8vo. London: John Murray. Works: Author’s Edition, vol. v. London: C. Kegan Paul and Co. 1878.

1849-50. SOUTHEY, ROBERT. Life and Correspondence. Edited by the Rev. Charles Cuthbert Southey. 6 vols. Comments on Wordsworth in chaps, ix.-xiii. xv. xix. xxvi. xxxii. and xxxvi. 8vo. London: Longman, Brown, Green and Longmans.

1851. GILLIES, R. P. Memoirs of a Literary Veteran; including Sketches and Anecdotes of the most distinguished Literary Characters from 1794 to 1849. Wordsworth, vol. ii. pp. 136-173. 8vo. London: Richard Bentley.

The Poetic Companion, vol. i., pp. 168-173. A Biographical and Critical Sketch of William Wordsworth.

MOIR, D. M. Sketches of the Poetical Literature of the past Half-Century, pp. 59-81; 120. Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons. Third Edition, 1856.

WORDSWORTH, CHRISTOPHER. Memoirs of William Wordsworth, Poet-Laureate, D.C.L. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Edward Moxon. 1851.

1852. JANUARY SEARLE (George S. Phillips). Memoirs of William Wordsworth, compiled from Authentic Sources. 12mo. London: Partridge and Oakey.

MITFORD, M. R. Recollections of a Literary Life; or, Books, Places, and People, vol. iii. chap. i. 8vo. London: Richard Bentley.

1853. An Essay on the Poetry of Wordsworth, 72 pp. 8vo. Liverpool.

AUSTIN, W. S., and JOHN RALPH. The Lives of the Poets-Laureate. With an Introductory Essay on the Title and Office. William Wordsworth, pp. 396-428. 8vo. London: Richard Bentley.

WRIGHT, JOHN. The Genius of Wordsworth harmonised with the Wisdom and Integrity of his Reviewers. 8vo. London: Longman, Brown, Green and Longmans.

SPALDING, WILLIAM. The History of English Literature. 8vo. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd.

1854. DE QUINCEY, THOMAS. Autobiographic Sketches. Early Memorials of Grasmere, vol. ii. pp. 104-141; William Wordsworth, pp. 227-314; William Wordsworth and Robert Southey, pp. 315-345. 8vo. Edinburgh: James Hogg. Also Collected Writings. New and Enlarged Edition. By David Masson. Edinburgh: Adam and Charles Black. 1889-90.

SPALDING, WILLIAM. Wordsworth, pp. 849-851. Cyclopædia of Biography, edited by Elihu Rich. 8vo. Glasgow: Richard Griffin and Co.

MOORE, THOMAS. Memoirs, Journal, and Correspondence of. Edited by the Right Honourable Lord John Russell, vol. iii. pp. 161, 163; vol. iv. pp. 48, 335; vol. vii pp. 72, 85, 197-8; vol. viii. pp. 69, 73, 291.

1856. CARLYON, CLEMENT. Early Years and Late Reflections, vol. i. 8vo. London: Whittaker and Co.

HOOD, E. P. William Wordsworth: a Biography. 8vo. London: W. and F. G. Cash.

MASSON, DAVID. Essays, Biographical and Critical: chiefly on English Poets. Wordsworth, pp. 346-390. 8vo. Cambridge: Macmillan and Co. Reprinted from _The North British Review_, August 1850.

ROGERS, SAMUEL. Recollections of the Table Talk of Samuel Rogers. 8vo. London: Edward Moxon.

WILSON, JOHN. Noctes Ambrosianae, vols. i.-iii. 8vo. Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons. New Edition, 1864.

WILSON, JOHN. Essays, Critical and Imaginative. Wordsworth, vol. i. pp. 387-408. 8vo. Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons.

1857. DE QUINCEY, THOMAS. Sketches, Critical and Biographic. On Wordsworth’s Poetry, vol. v. pp. 234-268. 8vo. Edinburgh: James Hogg and Sons.

REED, HENRY. Lectures on the British Poets. Wordsworth, Lecture XV. 8vo. London.

WILSON, JOHN. Recreations of Christopher North, vol. ii. Sacred Poetry. Wordsworth, pp. 54-70. 8vo. Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons.

1858. BRIMLEY, GEORGE. Essays. Edited by William George Clark, M.A. Wordsworth’s Poems, pp. 104-187. 8vo. Cambridge: Macmillan and Co. Second Edition, 1860. Third Edition, 1882. Reprinted from _Fraser’s Magazine_, 1851.

ROBERTSON, F. W. Lectures and Addresses on Literary and Social Topics. Wordsworth, pp. 203-256. 8vo. London: Smith, Elder and Co.

THE ENGLISH CYCLOPÆDIA. A New Dictionary of Universal Knowledge. Conducted by Charles Knight. Wordsworth, vol. vi. pp. 808-812.

1859. MILL, J. S. Dissertations and Discussions. Thoughts on Poetry and its Varieties, i. 63-94. 8vo. London: John W. Parker and Son. Second Edition. Longmans, Green, Reader and Dyer. 1867.

1860. CARRUTHERS, R. William Wordsworth. The _Encyclopædia Britannica_, Eighth Edition, xxi. 929-932. 4to. Edinburgh: Adam and Charles Black.

1861. CRAIK, GEORGE L. A Compendious History of English Literature, and of the English Language from the Norman Conquest. Wordsworth, ii. 435-456; 463-467; 473. 8vo. London: Griffin, Bohn and Co.

1862. GORDON, MRS. “Christopher North.” A Memoir of John Wilson, compiled from Family Papers and other Sources. 2 vols. 8vo. Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas. New Edition, 1879.

PATTERSON, A. S. Poets and Preachers of the Nineteenth Century: Four Lectures, Biographical and Critical, on Wordsworth, Montgomery, Hall, and Chalmers. 8vo. Glasgow: A. Hall.

1863. RUSHTON, WILLIAM. The Classical and Romantic Schools of English Literature, as represented by Spenser, Dryden, Pope, Scott, and Wordsworth. The Afternoon Lectures on English Literature, delivered in Dublin, pp. 43-92. 8vo. London: Bell and Daldy.

1864. COLQUHOUN, J. C. Scattered Leaves of Biography. IV.--Life of William Wordsworth. 8vo. London: Macintosh.

KNIGHT, CHARLES. Passages from a Working Life during half a century: with a prelude of Early Reminiscences, vol. iii. chap. ii. pp. 27-29.

1865. The Imperial Dictionary of Universal Biography. Edited by J. F. WALLER. Wordsworth, vol. vi. p. 1389. 8vo. London: W. Mackenzie.

1865. DENNIS, JOHN. Evenings in Arcadia. Edited by John Dennis. 12mo. London.

1868. BUCHANAN, ROBERT. David Gray, and Other Essays, chiefly on Poetry. Sampson Low.

MACDONALD, GEORGE. England’s Antiphon, pp. 303-7. 8vo. London.

SHAIRP, J. C. Studies in Poetry and Philosophy. Wordsworth: the Man and the Poet, pp. 1-115. 8vo. Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas. Third Edition, 1876. Fourth Edition, 1886.

_Chambers’s Encyclopædia._ A Dictionary of Universal Knowledge for the People. Wordsworth, vol. x. pp. 272-274. New Edition, pp. 737-740. 1892. 8vo. London: W. and R. Chambers.

1869. CLOUGH, A. H. Poems and Prose Remains. Lecture on the Poetry of Wordsworth, vol. i. pp. 309-325. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

G., F. J. The Old College, being the Glasgow University Album for MDCCCLXIX. Edited by Students. William Wordsworth, pp. 243-259. 8vo. Glasgow: James Maclehose.

GRAVES, R. P. Recollections of Wordsworth and the Lake Country. The Afternoon Lectures on Literature and Art, delivered in Dublin, pp. 275-321. 8vo. Dublin: William M’Gee.

MARTINEAU, HARRIET. Biographical Sketches. Mrs. Wordsworth, pp. 402-408. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

ROBINSON, HENRY CRABB. Diary, Reminiscences, and Correspondence. Selected and edited by Thomas Sadler. 3 vols. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

1870. EMERSON, R. W. English Traits, First Visit to England. Bohn’s Standard Library; also Macmillan and Co. 1883.

1871. HUTTON, R. H. Essays, Theological and Literary. Wordsworth and his Genius, vol. ii. Literary Essays, pp. 101-146. 8vo. London: Strahan and Co. Second Edition, 1877.

TAINE, H. A. History of English Literature. Translated by H. Van Laun. With a preface by the author. Vol. ii. pp. 248; 260-265. 8vo. Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas.

HALL, S. C. A Book of Memories of Great Men and Women of the Age, from Personal Acquaintance. London: Virtue and Co. Wordsworth, pp. 287-318.

1872. COOPER, THOMAS, Life of: An Autobiography. Reminiscence of Wordsworth (first published in _Cooper’s Journal_, May 1850), pp. 287-295.

DE MORGAN, AUGUSTUS. A Budget of Paradoxes. Wordsworth and Byron, p. 435. 8vo. London: Longmans, Green and Co.

NEAVES, CHARLES (Lord Neaves). A Lecture on Cheap and Accessible Pleasures. With a Comparative Sketch of the Poetry of Burns and Wordsworth, etc. 8vo. Edinburgh.

YONGE, CHARLES D. Three Centuries of English Literature. Wordsworth, pp. 251-267. 8vo. London: Longmans, Green and Co.

1873. COLERIDGE, SARA. Memoir and Letters. Edited by her Daughter. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Henry S. King and Co.

DEVEY, JOSEPH. A Comparative Estimate of Modern English Poets. Wordsworth, pp. 87-103. 8vo. London: Moxon and Son.

LONSDALE, HENRY. The Worthies of Cumberland. William Wordsworth, vol. iv. pp. 1-40. 8vo. London: George Routledge and Sons.

MORLEY, H. A First Sketch of English Literature. 8vo. London: Cassell, Petter, and Galpin.

NICHOLS, W. L. The Quantocks and their Associations. A Paper read before the Members of the Bath Literary Club. 12mo. Bath. Printed for Private Circulation. Second Edition. London: Sampson Low, Marston and Co.

1874. BROOKE, STOPFORD A. Theology in the English Poets. Wordsworth, pp. 93-286. 8vo. London: Henry S. King and Co.

MASSON, DAVID. Wordsworth, Shelley, Keats, and other Essays. Wordsworth, pp. 3-74. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

WORDSWORTH, DOROTHY. Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland, A.D. 1803. Edited by J. C. Shairp. 8vo. Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas.

1875. FLETCHER, MRS. Autobiography. With Letters and other Family Memorials. 8vo. Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas.

1876. FORSTER, JOHN. The Works and Life of Walter Savage Landor. Vol. i. The Life. 8vo. London: Chapman and Hall.

LAMB, CHARLES. The Life, Letters, and Writings of Charles Lamb. Edited, with Notes and Illustrations, by Percy Fitzgerald. References to, and Criticisms of Wordsworth in vols. i. ii. 8vo. London: E. Moxon and Co.

LOWELL, J. RUSSELL. Among my Books. Second Series. Wordsworth, pp. 201-251. 8vo. London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle and Rivington.

MORLEY, HENRY. Cassell’s Library of English Literature. Vols. iii., iv., v. Wordsworth. 8vo. London: Cassell, Petter, and Galpin.

STEDMAN, E. C. Victorian Poets. 8vo. London: Chatto and Windus.

TICKNOR, GEORGE. Life, Letters, and Journals. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle and Rivington.

1877. DOYLE, SIR FRANCIS H. Lectures on Poetry delivered at Oxford. Second Series. Wordsworth Lectures, i.-iii. pp. 1-77. 8vo. London: Smith, Elder and Co.

SHAIRP, J. C. On Poetic Interpretation of Nature. Wordsworth as an Interpreter of Nature, pp. 225-270. 8vo. Edinburgh: David Douglas.

ADAMS (W. DAVENPORT). Dictionary of English Literature. Wordsworth, pp. 700-701. 8vo. London: Cassell, Petter, and Galpin.

1878. DOWDEN, E. Studies in Literature, 1789-1877. The Prose Works of Wordsworth, pp. 122-158. 8vo. London: C. Kegan Paul and Co.

KNIGHT, WILLIAM. The English Lake District as Interpreted in the Poems of Wordsworth. 12mo. Edinburgh: David Douglas. Second Edition, revised and enlarged 1891.

ROSSETTI, W. M. Lives of Various Poets. Wordsworth, pp. 203-218. 8vo. London: E. Moxon and Son.

The Treasury of Modern Biography. Edited by Robert Cochrane. Wordsworth, pp. 98-116. 8vo. Edinburgh: W. P. Nimmo.

1879. BAGEHOT, WALTER. Literary Studies. Edited by Richard Holt Hutton. Wordsworth, Tennyson, and Browning; or, Pure, Ornate, and Grotesque Art in English Poetry, vol. ii. pp. 338-390. 8vo. London: Longmans, Green and Co.

KNIGHT, WILLIAM. Studies in Philosophy and Literature. Wordsworth, pp. 283-317. Nature as Interpreted by Wordsworth, pp. 405-426. 8vo. London: C. Kegan Paul and Co.

STEPHEN, LESLIE. Hours in a Library. Third Series. Wordsworth’s Ethics, pp. 178-229. 8vo. London: Smith, Elder and Co.

1880. BAYNE, PETER. Two Great Englishwomen: Mrs. Browning and Charlotte Brontë. With an Essay on Poetry, illustrated from Wordsworth, Burns, and Byron, pp. xi.-lxxviii. 8vo. London: James Clarke and Co.

CHURCH, R. W. William Wordsworth. The English Poets. Edited by Thomas Humphry Ward, vol. iv. pp. 1-15. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

MAIN, DAVID M. A Treasury of English Sonnets. Edited from the Original Sources, with Notes and Illustrations, pp. 365-390. 8vo. Manchester: Alexander Ireland and Co.

MYERS, F. W. H. Wordsworth (English Men of Letters). 8vo. Macmillan and Co.

1881. CARLYLE, THOMAS. Reminiscences. Edited by James Anthony Froude. Vol. ii. pp. 330-341. 8vo. London: Longmans, Green and Co.

DOWDEN, E. The Correspondence of Robert Southey with Caroline Bowles. Edited, with an Introduction, by Edward Dowden. 8vo. Dublin: Hodges, Figgis, and Co.

MILNER, GEORGE. The Literature and Scenery of the English Lake District. Reprinted from the Papers of the Manchester Literary Club, vol. vii. pp. 1-21. 8vo. Manchester.

SHAIRP, J. C. Aspects of Poetry, being Lectures delivered at Oxford. The Three Yarrows, pp. 316-344. The White Doe of Rylstone, pp. 345-376. 8vo. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

SHORTHOUSE, J. H. On the Platonism of Wordsworth. A Paper read to the Wordsworth Society, 19th July 1881. 4to. Birmingham: Cornish Brothers.

SYMINGTON, A. J. William Wordsworth: a Biographical Sketch, with Selections from his Writings in Poetry and Prose. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Blackie and Son.

1882. BUCKLAND, ANNA. The Story of English Literature. 8vo. London: Cassell and Co.

COTTERILL, H. B. An Introduction to the Study of Poetry. Wordsworth, pp. 208-241. 8vo. London: Kegan Paul, Trench and Co.

OLIPHANT, MRS. The Literary History of England in the end of the Eighteenth and beginning of the Nineteenth Century. 3 vols. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

SCHERER, J. A History of English Literature. Translated from the German by M. V. 8vo. London: Sampson Low and Co.

SEELEY, J. R. Natural Religion. By the Author of _Ecce Homo_, pp. 94-111. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

IRELAND, ALEXANDER. Recollections of George Dawson, etc., pp. 22-25.

1883. CAINE, T. HALL. Cobwebs of Criticism. A Review of the First Reviewers of the “Lake,” “Satanic,” and “Cockney” Schools. Wordsworth, pp. 1-29. 8vo. London: Elliot Stock.

DENNIS, JOHN. Heroes of Literature: English Poets. William Wordsworth, pp. 278-299. 8vo. London: S.P.C.K.

HALL, S. C. Retrospect of a Long Life: from 1815 to 1883. Wordsworth, vol. ii. pp. 36-42. 8vo. London: Richard Bentley and Son.

HAWTHORNE, N. English Note-Books, vol. ii. 8vo. London: Kegan Paul, Trench and Co.

The Lyme Parish Church Magazine. Lyme-Regis: Walton.

1884. HOFFMANN, F. A. Poetry, its Origin, Nature, and History. Wordsworth, chap. xxvi. pp. 359-375. 8vo. London: Thurgate and Sons.

KERR, R. N. Our English Laureates and the Birds. Dundee: John Leng and Co. Pp. 29-51. (Originally published in the _Newcastle Weekly Chronicle_.)

NICHOLSON, ALBERT. The Literature of the English Lake District. Manchester.

SHORTER, C. K. William Wordsworth. The National Cyclopædia: a Dictionary of Universal Knowledge. New Edition. 8vo. London: W. Mackenzie.

TRAILL, H. D. Coleridge. English Men of Letters. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

1885. COURTHOPE, W. J. The Liberal Movement in English Literature. Essay III. Wordsworth’s Theory of Poetry, pp. 71-108. 8vo. London: John Murray.

ELIOT, GEORGE. George Eliot’s Life, as related in her Letters and Journals. By J. W. Cross. Vol. i. p. 61; iii. 388. 8vo. Edinburgh: W. Blackwood and Sons.

HUTTON, LAWRENCE. Literary Landmarks, pp. 321-7. London: T. Fisher Unwin.

CARNE, JOHN, Letters of, 1813-1837. Privately printed. Pp. 133-138.

TAYLOR, SIR HENRY. Autobiography 1800-1875. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Longmans, Green and Co.

1886. DAWSON, GEORGE. Biographical Lectures. Edited by George St. Clair. The Poetry of Wordsworth, pp. 251-307. 8vo. London: Kegan Paul, Trench and Co.

LAW, DAVID. Wordsworth’s Country. A series of Five Etchings of the English Lake District. 24mo. London: Robert Dunthorne.

LEE, EDMUND. Dorothy Wordsworth. The Story of a Sister’s Love. 8vo. London: James Clarke and Co. New and revised edition 1894.

NICHOLSON, CORNELIUS. Wordsworth and Coleridge: Two Parallel Sketches. Ventnor: R. Madley. 1886.

NOEL, HON. RODEN B. W. Essays on Poetry and Poets. Wordsworth, pp. 132-149. 8vo. London: Kegan Paul, Trench and Co.

SWINBURNE, A. C. Miscellanies, Wordsworth and Byron, pp. 63-156. 8vo. London. 1886.

LAUNCELOT CROSS (F. Carr). Thinkers of the World in relation to the New Church. 1. Childhood as revealed in Wordsworth; 2. Wordsworth on Infancy and Youth. N.D.

1887. DE VERE, AUBREY. Essays, chiefly on Poetry. The Genius and Passion of Wordsworth, vol. i. pp. 101-173; The Wisdom and Truth of Wordsworth’s Poetry, vol. i. pp. 174-264; Recollections of Wordsworth, vol. ii. pp. 275-295. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

GOODWIN, H., and WILLIAM KNIGHT. Through the Wordsworth Country. 8vo. London: Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey and Co. Third Edition, 1892.

LOWELL, J. RUSSELL. Democracy and other Addresses, pp. 137-156. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

Memorials of Coleorton: being Letters from Coleridge, Wordsworth and his Sister, Southey, and Sir Walter Scott, to Sir George and Lady Beaumont of Coleorton, Leicestershire, 1803 to 1834. Edited, with Introduction and Notes, by William Knight. 2 vols. 8vo. Edinburgh: David Douglas.

SUTHERLAND, J. M. William Wordsworth: the Story of his Life, with Critical Remarks on his Writings. 8vo. London: Elliot Stock.

1888. ARNOLD, MATTHEW. Essays in Criticism. Second Series. Wordsworth, pp. 122-162. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

CHURCH, R. W. Dante and other Essays. William Wordsworth, pp. 193-219. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

DOWDEN, E. Transcripts and Studies. The Text of Wordsworth’s Poems, pp. 112-152. 8vo. London: Kegan Paul, Trench and Co. Reprinted from _The Contemporary Review_.

INGLEBY, C. M. Essays. Edited by his Son. 8vo. Trübner and Co.

MINTO, W. William Wordsworth. The _Encyclopædia Britannica_, Ninth Edition, xxiv. pp. 668-676. 4to. Edinburgh: Adam and Charles Black.

SANDFORD, MRS. HENRY. Thomas Poole and his Friends. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

1889. CLAYDEN, P. W. Rogers and his Contemporaries. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Smith, Elder and Co.

HOWITT, MARY. Autobiography. Edited by her daughter Margaret Howitt. 2 vols. 8vo. London: William Isbister.

Letters from the Lake Poets, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, William Wordsworth, Robert Southey, to Daniel Stuart. Printed for Private Circulation. Wordsworth, pp. 329-386. 8vo. London: West, Newman and Co.

PATER, WALTER. Appreciations. With an Essay on Style. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

WORDSWORTHIANA. A Selection from Papers read to the Wordsworth Society. Edited by William Knight. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

1890. BOLAND, R. Yarrow, its Poets and Poetry, pp. 77-9. Dalbeattie.

BROOKE, STOPFORD A. Dove Cottage, Wordsworth’s Home from 1800-1808. December 21, 1799, to May 1808. 12mo. London: Macmillan and Co.

DAVEY, SIR HORACE. Wordsworth. An Address read to the Stockton Literary and Philosophical Society. 8vo. Stockton-on-Tees. 1890.

DAWSON, W. J. Makers of Modern English. Ch. x. William Wordsworth; ch. xi. The Connection between Wordsworth’s Life and Poetry; ch. xii. Some Characteristics of Wordsworth’s Poetry; ch. xiii. Wordsworth’s View of Nature and Man; ch. xiv. Wordsworth’s Patriotic and Political Poems; ch. xv. Wordsworth’s Personal Characteristics; ch. xvi. Concluding Survey.

MALLESON, F. A. Holiday Studies of Wordsworth, by Rivers, Woods, and Alps. The Wharfe, the Duddon, and the Stelvio Pass. 4to. Cassell and Co.

M’WILLIAMS, R. Handbook of English Literature, pp. 456-466. London: Longmans, Green and Co.

TUTIN, J. R. Birthday Texts. W. P. Nimmo.

1891. DE QUINCEY, THOMAS. De Quincey Memorials. Being Letters and Records here first published.… Edited, with Introduction, Notes, and Narrative, by Alexander H. Japp. 2 vols. 8vo. London: William Heinemann.

GOSSE, E. Gossip in a Library. _Peter Bell_ and his Tormentors, pp. 253-267. 8vo. London: W. Heinemann. Third Edition, 1893.

GRAHAM, P. A. Nature in Books: some Studies in Biography. 8vo. London: Methuen and Co.

MORLEY, JOHN. Studies in Literature. Wordsworth, pp. 1-53. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

SCHERER, EDMOND. Essays on English Literature, translated by George Saintsbury, with a Critical Introduction. 8vo. London: Sampson Low, Marston and Co.

TUTIN, J. R. The Wordsworth Dictionary of Persons and Places, with the Familiar Quotations from his Works (including full Index) and a chronologically-arranged List of his best Poems. 8vo. Hull: J. R. Tutin.

WORDSWORTH, ELIZABETH. William Wordsworth. 8vo. London: Percival and Co.

1892. CAIRD, EDWARD. Essays on Literature and Philosophy. Wordsworth, vol. i. pp. 147-189. 8vo. Glasgow: James Maclehose and Sons.

DAWSON, W. J. Quest and Vision: essays in Life and Literature. Wordsworth and his Message, pp. 41-72. 8vo. London: Hodder and Stoughton.

TUTIN, J. R. An Index to the Animal and Vegetable Kingdoms of Wordsworth. Hull.

TUTIN, J. R. Wordsworth in Yorkshire. First published in _Yorkshire Notes and Queries_. Part xix.

WINTRINGHAM, W. H. The Birds of Wordsworth: Poetically, Mythologically, and Comparatively examined. 8vo. London: Hutchinson and Co.

1894. CAMPBELL, J. DYKES. Samuel Taylor Coleridge. A Narrative of the Events of his Life. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

MINTO, W. The Literature of the Georgian Era. Edited, with a Biographical Introduction, by William Knight, LL.D., pp. 140-177. 8vo. Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons.

RAWNSLEY, H. D. Literary Associations of the English Lakes. 2 vols. 8vo. Glasgow: James Maclehose and Sons.

1895. COLERIDGE, S. T. Letters. Edited by Ernest Hartley Coleridge. 2 vols. 8vo. London: William Heinemann.

In Lakeland, a Wordsworthic Pilgrimage, Easter 1895.

1896. SAINTSBURY, GEORGE. A History of Nineteenth Century Literature (1780-1895). Wordsworth, pp. 49-56. 8vo. London: Macmillan and Co.

A REMINISCENCE OF WORDSWORTH DAY. Cockermouth, April 7, 1896. Edited by the Rev. H. D. Rawnsley, Hon. Canon of Carlisle. Cockermouth: A. Lang.

[476] There are numerous notes and letters on Wordsworth in such Journals as _The Athenæum_, _The Academy_, _Notes and Queries_, the examination of which will repay perusal. In _Notes and Queries_ there are at least twenty-four valuable ones which cannot be recorded here.--ED.

[477] A criticism of the “dancing daffodils.”--ED.

IV

CRITICAL ESTIMATES IN BOOKS, PAMPHLETS, MAGAZINES, AND REVIEWS

In the following section when the name of an author is placed within brackets, it is to be understood that the name was not given on the publication of the Review, but that it is otherwise known.--ED.

1793. “Descriptive Sketches in Verse.” _The Monthly Review_, xii. 216.

“An Evening Walk.” _The Monthly Review_, xii. 218.

1799. “Lyrical Ballads, with a few other Poems.” _The Monthly Review_, xxix. 202; _The British Critic_, xiv. 364.

1801. “Lyrical Ballads, with other Poems.” In 2 vols. Second Edition. _The British Critic_, xvii. 125.

1802. “Lyrical Ballads, with other Poems.” Vol. ii. _The Monthly Review_, xxxviii. 209.

1807. “Poems.” In 2 vols. _The Edinburgh Review_, xi. 214. By Francis Jeffrey. _Monthly Literary Recreations_, 65. (By Lord Byron.)

1808. “Poems.” In 2 vols. _The Eclectic Review_, vii. 35.

1809. “Poems.” In 2 vols. _The British Critic_, xxxiii. 298.

1810. “Concerning the relations of Great Britain, Spain, and Portugal, to each other, and to the Common Enemy, at this Crisis, etc.” _The British Critic_, xxxiv. 305.

1814. “The Excursion; being a portion of The Recluse, a Poem.” _The Edinburgh Review_, xxiv. 1. (By Francis Jeffrey); _The Quarterly Review_, xii. 100. (By Charles Lamb.)

1815. “Poems; including Lyrical Ballads, and the miscellaneous pieces of the Author. With additional Poems, a new Preface, and a supplementary Essay.” _The Monthly Review_, lxxviii. 225; _The Quarterly Review_, xiv. 201. (By W. Gifford.)

“The Excursion; being a portion of The Recluse: a Poem.” _The Eclectic Review_, xxi. 13; _The Monthly Review_, lxxvi. 123; _The British Critic_, iii. 449.

“The Excursion: being a portion of The Recluse: a Poem.” _The British Review_, vi. 49.

“The White Doe of Rylstone.” _The Quarterly Review_, xiv. 201. (By W. Gifford.) _The Edinburgh Review_, xxv. 355. (By Francis Jeffrey.) _The Monthly Review_, lxxviii. 235.

1816. “The White Doe of Rylstone.” _The Eclectic Review_, xxiii. 33.

“Thanksgiving Ode, with other short Pieces.” _The Eclectic Review_, xxiv. 1.

“The White Doe of Rylstone.” _The British Review_, vii. 370.

1817. “Thanksgiving Ode, with other short Pieces.” _The Monthly Review_, lxxxii. 98.

“Observations on Mr. Wordsworth’s Letter relative to a new Edition of Burns’s Works.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, i. 261.

“Vindication of Mr. Wordsworth’s Letter to Mr. Gray on a new Edition of Burns.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, ii. 65.

“Letter occasioned by N.’s Vindication of Mr. Wordsworth in last Number.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, ii. 201.

1818. “Essays on the Lake School of Poetry. I. Wordsworth’s White Doe of Rylstone.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, iii. 369.

1819. “Peter Bell: a Tale in Verse.” _The Edinburgh Monthly Review_, ii. 654; _Blackwood’s Magazine_, v. 130; _The Eclectic Review_, xxx. 62; _The Monthly Review_, lxxxix. 419; _The Literary Gazette_, 273.

“The Waggoner: a Poem, to which are added Sonnets.” _The Monthly Review_, xc. 36; _The Edinburgh Monthly Review_, ii. 654; _Blackwood’s Magazine_, v. 332; _The Eclectic Review_, xxx. 62.

“Benjamin the Waggoner, a ryghte merrie and conceitede Tale in Verse.” _The Monthly Review_, xc. 41.

“Peter Bell: a Lyrical Ballad.” _The Monthly Review_, lxxxix. 422; _The Eclectic Review_, xxix. 473.

“Memoir of William Wordsworth, Esq.” (with a portrait). _The New Monthly Magazine_, i. 48.

1820. “Lake School of Poetry--Mr. Wordsworth.” _The New Monthly Magazine_, xiv. 361.

“Wordsworth.” _The London Magazine_, i. 275, 435.

“Wordsworth’s River Duddon, and other Poems.” _The Gentleman’s Magazine_, xc. 344; _The London Magazine_, i. 618; _The London Review and Literary Journal_, 523; _Blackwood’s Magazine_, vii. 206; _The Eclectic Review_, xxxii. 170; _The Monthly Review_, xciii. 132.

“The River Duddon, and other Poems.” _The British Review_, xvi. 37.

“Essay on Poetry, with Observations on the Living Poets.” _The London Magazine_, ii. 557.

“The Dead Asses: A Lyrical Ballad.” _The Monthly Review_, xci. 322.

“Description of the Scenery of the Lakes.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, xii.

1822. “Memorials of a Tour on the Continent.” _The British Critic_, xviii. 522; _The Edinburgh Review_, xxxvii. 449. (By F. Jeffrey.) _Blackwood’s Magazine_, xii. 175; _The British Review_, xx. 459; _The Literary Gazette_, 192, 210; _The Museum_, i. 339.

“Ecclesiastical Sketches.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, xii. 175; _The British Critic_, xviii. 522; _The Literary Gazette_, 123.

1829. “An Essay on the Theory and the Writings of Wordsworth.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, xxvi. 453, 593, 774, 894.

1831. “Literary Characters--No. III. Mr. Wordsworth.” _Fraser’s Magazine_, iii. 557. By Pierce Pungent.

“Selections from the Poems of W. Wordsworth, chiefly for the use of Schools and Young Persons.” _The New Monthly Magazine_, xxxiii. 304; _The Monthly Review_, ii. 602.

1832. “Gallery of Literary Characters--No. XXIX. William Wordsworth.” _Frasers Magazine_, vi. 313.

“Poetical Works.” New Edition. _Fraser’s Magazine_, vi. 607.

1833. “What is Poetry? The two kinds of Poetry.” _The Monthly Repository_, New Series, vii. 60, 714. By Antiquus (John Stuart Mill).

1834. “The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth.” A New Edition. _The Quarterly Review_, lii. 317. (By Henry Taylor.)

“Selections from the Poems of William Wordsworth.” _The Quarterly Review_, lii. 317. (By Henry Taylor.)

1835. “Yarrow Revisited, and other Poems.” _The New Monthly Magazine_, xliv. 12; _Blackwood’s Magazine_, xxxvii. 699; _Fraser’s Magazine_, xi. 689; _The Quarterly Review_, liv. 181; _The Dublin University Magazine_, v. 680; _The Monthly Literary Gazette_, 257; _The Athenæum_, 293; _The Monthly Review_, cxxxvii. 605; _The Monthly Repository_, New Series, ix. 430.

1838. “Letter from Tomkins--Bagman _versus_ Pedlar.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, xliv. 509.

“Our Pocket Companions.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, xliv. 584.

“The Sonnets of William Wordsworth.” _The Literary Gazette_, 540.

1839. “Lake Reminiscences, from 1807 to 1830--Nos. I.-III. William Wordsworth; No. IV. William Wordsworth and Robert Southey.” _Taits Edinburgh Magazine_, vi. I, 90, 246, 453. (By Thomas de Quincey.)

1841. “Wordsworth.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, xlix. 359.

“The Sonnets of William Wordsworth.” _The Quarterly Review_, lxix. 1. (By Henry Taylor.)

1842. “Poems, chiefly of Early and Late Years; including The Borderers.” _The Monthly Review_, ii. 270; _The Eclectic Review_, lxxvi. 568; _The Christian Remembrancer_, iii. 655; _The Athenæum_, 757.

Criticism in a Review of “The Book of the Poets” in _The Athenæum_. (By Elizabeth Barrett Browning.)

“Poems of the Fancy,” “Poems of the Imagination.” _The Gentleman’s Magazine_, xvii. 3.

“Imaginary Conversation. Southey and Porson.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, lii. 687. (By Walter Savage Landor.)

1844. “Oswald Herbst’s Letters from England--No. II. Wordsworth and his Poetry.” _Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine_, xi. 641.

1845. “On Wordsworth’s Poetry.” _Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine_, xii. 545. (By Thomas de Quincey.)

“Poems, chiefly of Early and Late Years; including The Borderers.” _The Gentleman’s Magazine_, xxiv. 555.

“William Wordsworth.” _Hogg’s Weekly Instructor_, ii. 243.

1850. “William Wordsworth.” _Chambers’s Papers for the People_, v. I.

“William Wordsworth.” _The Gentleman’s Magazine_, New Series, xxxiii. 668; _The Athenæum_, 447; _Sharpe’s London Magazine_, xi. 349.

“Poetical Works.” _The Eclectic Review_, xcii. 56; _The North British Review_, xiii. 473. (By David Masson.)

“The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet’s Mind.” _The Eclectic Review_, xcii. 550; _The Gentleman’s Magazine_, xxxiv. 459; _Fraser’s Magazine_, xlii. 119; _The Westminster Review_, liv. 271; _The British Quarterly Review_, xii. 549; _Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine_, xvii. 521; _The Dublin University Magazine_, xxxvi. 329; _The Literary Gazette_, 513; _The Athenæum_, 805; _Sharpe’s London Journal_, xii. 185; _The London Examiner_, 478.

“William Wordsworth.” _Household Words_, i. 210.

“Wordsworth and his Poetry.” _Chambers’s Journal_, xiii. 363. By C. R.

“Poetical Works.” _The Christian Observer_, i. 307.

“Religious Character of Wordsworth’s Poetry.” _The Christian Observer_, i. 381.

“Death of Wordsworth.” _The London Examiner_, 259, 265.

“The Poetry of Wordsworth.” _The Wesleyan Methodist Magazine_, 27.

1851. “Memoirs of William Wordsworth.” _Fraser’s Magazine_, xliv. 101, 186; _The Dublin University Magazine_, xxxviii. 77; _The Dublin Review_, xxxi. 313; _The Gentleman’s Magazine_, New Series, xxxvi. 107; _The Athenæum_, 445.

“Poetical Works.” _The Dublin Review_, xxxi. 313.

“The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet’s Mind.” _The Prospective Review_, vii. 94.

1852. “Memoirs of William Wordsworth.” By Christopher Wordsworth. _The Quarterly Review_, xcii. 182.

“Memoirs of William Wordsworth, compiled from Authentic Sources.” By January Searle. _The Quarterly Review_, xcii. 182.

“Lives of the Illustrious. William Wordsworth.” _The Biographical Magazine_, I.

1853. “William Wordsworth.” _Sharpe’s London Journal_, xvii. 148.

“The Genius of Wordsworth harmonised with the Wisdom and Integrity of his Reviewers.” By J. C. Wright. _The Athenæum_, 824.

1855. “William Wordsworth.” _The Leisure Hour_, iv. 439.

1856. “Poems of William Wordsworth, D.C.L.” _The Dublin Review_, xl. 338.

“William Wordsworth.” _Sharpe’s London Journal_, xi. 349.

1857. “William Wordsworth. A Biography.” By Edwin Paxton Hood. _The National Review_, iv. 1.

“The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth.” A New Edition. _The Athenæum_, 109.

“The Earlier Poems of William Wordsworth.” Edited by William Johnston. _The Athenæum_, 109.

“Wordsworth’s Sister.” By E. P. Hood. _The Leisure Hour_.

1859. “Passages from Wordsworth’s Excursion.” Illustrated with Etchings on Steel. By Agnes Fraser. _The Athenæum_, i, 361.

“William Wordsworth. A Biography.” By Edwin Paxton Hood. _The Christian Observer_, lix. 156.

“A Talk about Rydal Mount.” _Once a Week_, i. 107. (By Thomas Blackburne.)

1860. “Collected Works of William Wordsworth.” A New and Revised Edition. _The British Quarterly Review_, xxxi. 79.

“The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet’s Mind.” _The British Quarterly Review_, xxxi. 79.

“Richard Baxter paraphrased by Wordsworth.” Varieties in _The Leisure Hour_.

1863. “The Poems of Hood and of Wordsworth.” _The Christian Observer_, lxiii. 677.

“William Wordsworth.” _The Leisure Hour_, xii. 628.

1864. “Wordsworth, Tennyson, and Browning; or, Pure, Ornate, and Grotesque Art in English Poetry.” _The National Review_, xix. 27. W. B. (Walter Bagehot.)

“Wordsworth: the Man and the Poet.” _The North British Review_, xli. 1. (By J. C. Shairp.)

1865. “Two Poets of England. Wordsworth and Landor.” _Temple Bar_, xvi. 106.

“Wordsworth at Rydal Mount in 1849.” In _The Leisure Hour_.

1866. “Memories of the Authors of the Age.” William Wordsworth. _The Art Journal_, xviii. 245, 273. S. C. Hall and Mrs. S. C. Hall.

1868. “Characteristic Letters”; communicated by the author of Men I have Known--W. Wordsworth.

1870. “Wordsworth at Work.” _Chambers’s Journal_, xlvii. 247.

“Personal Recollections of the Lake Poets.” In _The Leisure Hour_, 651. The Rev. Edward Whately.

“Wordsworth’s Study,” in _The Leisure Hour_.

1871. “A Century of Great Poets, from 1750 downwards--No. III. William Wordsworth.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, cx. 299.

1872. “Wordsworth impartially weighed.” _Temple Bar_, xxxiv. 310.

1873. “Wordsworth.” _Macmillan’s Magazine_, xxviii. 289. Sir John Duke Coleridge.

“Wordsworth’s Three Yarrows.” _Good Words_, xiv. 649. J. C. Shairp.

1874. “On Wordsworth.” _The Fortnightly Review_, xxi. 455. Walter H. Pater.

“William and Dorothy Wordsworth.” _Chambers’s Journal_, li. 513. William Chambers.

“White Doe of Rylstone.” _Good Words_, xv. 269. J. C. Shairp.

“The Cycle of English Song.” _Temple Bar_, xl. 478.

1875. “The Prose Works of William Wordsworth.” Edited by the Rev. A. B. Grosart. _The Fortnightly Review_, xxiv. 449. Edward Dowden. _The Dublin University Magazine_, lxxxvi. 756.

1876. “Hours in a Library.” Wordsworth’s Ethics. _The Cornhill Magazine_, xxxiv. 206. Leslie Stephen.

“The Prose Works of William Wordsworth.” Wordsworth and Gray. _The Quarterly Review_, cxli. 104.

“The Prose Works of William Wordsworth.” Edited by the Rev. A. B. Grosart. _The London Quarterly Review_, xlvii. 102.

1877. “The Wordsworths at Brinsop Court.” _Temple Bar_, xlix. 110.

1878. “The Text of Wordsworth’s Poems.” _The Contemporary Review_, xxxiii. 734. Edward Dowden.

“Wordsworth.” _Transactions of the Cumberland Association for the Advancement of Literature and Science_, Part III. William Knight.

1879. “Wordsworth.” _Macmillan’s Magazine_, xl. 193. Matthew Arnold.

“Matthew Arnold’s Selections from Wordsworth.” _The Fortnightly Review_, xxxii. 686. J. A. Symonds.

1880. “Milton and Wordsworth.” _Temple Bar_, lx. 106.

“Wordsworth.” _Frasers Magazine_, ci. 205. Edward Caird.

“Wordsworth’s Poems.” Selected and edited by Matthew Arnold. _The Modern Review_, i, 235. William Knight.

“The Genius and Passion of Wordsworth.” _The Month_, xxxviii. 465; xxxix. 1. Aubrey De Vere.

1881. “Carlyle’s Reminiscences.” Carlyle’s Impressions of Wordsworth. _The Nineteenth Century_, lx. 1010. Henry Taylor.

“Wordsworth.” _The Churchman_, March.

1882. “Wordsworth and Byron.” _The Quarterly Review_, cliv. 53. Matthew Arnold.

“My Rare Book.” _The Gentleman’s Magazine_, New Series, xxviii. 531. Frederick Wedmore.

“Wordsworth’s Two Styles.” _The Modern Review_, iii. 525. R. H. Hutton.

“A French Critic on Wordsworth--M. Schérer.” _The Saturday Review_, liv. 565.

“Poetical Works.” Edited by William Knight. _The Academy_, xxii. III. Edward Dowden. _The Spectator_, lv. 1141; _The Modern Review_, iii, 861.

“Transactions of the Wordsworth Society--No. I. Bibliography of the Poems; No. II. On the Platonism of Wordsworth.” J. H. Shorthouse. _The Spectator_, lv. 238.

“The Weak Side of Wordsworth.” _The Spectator_, lv. 687.

1883. “Wordsworth and the Duddon.” _Good Words_, xxiv. 573. F. A. Malleson.

“Address to the Wordsworth Society.” _Macmillan’s Magazine_, xlviii. 154. Matthew Arnold.

“Poetical Works.” Edited by William Knight. _The Spectator_, lvi. 614.

“In Wordsworth’s Country.” _The Yorkshire Illustrated Monthly_, 32. N. Paton.

“Poets’ Pictures.” _Temple Bar_, lxxx. 232.

“Old Age in Bath, to which are added a few unpublished remains of Wordsworth.” Henry Julian Hunter.

1884. “Wordsworth and Byron.” _The Nineteenth Century_, xv. 583, 764. A. C. Swinburne.

“The Wisdom and Truth of Wordsworth’s Poetry.” _The Catholic World_. Aubrey de Vere.

“Wordsworth and ‘Natural Religion.’” _Good Words_, xxv. 307. J. C. Shairp.

“Wordsworth’s Relations to Science.” _Macmillan’s Magazine_, l. 202. R. Spence Watson.

“Sonnets.” Edited by the Archbishop of Dublin. _The Academy_, xxv. 108. Samuel Waddington.

“The Literature of the English Lake District.” _The Manchester Quarterly_, No. xii. Albert Nicholson.

“A Stroll up the Brathay.” _Good Words_, xxv. 392. Herbert Rix.

“The Liberal Movement in English Literature--III. Wordsworth’s Theory of Poetry.” _The National Review_, iv. 512. William John Courthope.

1885. “Wordsworth’s Influence in Scotland.” _The Spectator_, lviii. 1292.

“Dorothy Wordsworth.” _The Christian World Magazine_, 314, 360, 464, 548.

“Archbishop Sandys’ Endowed School, Hawkshead, near Ambleside. Tercentenary Commemoration.”

1886. “Wordsworth.” _Temple Bar_, lxxvii. 336. Charles F. Johnson.

“Poetical Works.” Edited by William Knight. _The Spectator_, lix. 355.

1887. “Memorials of Coleorton.” Edited by William Knight. _The Spectator_, lx. 1656.

“Wordsworth, the Poet of Nature.” _The Sunday Magazine_, xvi. 166. Henry C. Ewart.

“The Mystical Side of Wordsworth.” _The National Review_, ix. 833. John Hogben.

1888. “Mr. Morley on Wordsworth.” _The Spectator_, lxi. 1807.

“The Recluse.” _The Spectator_, lxi. 1852.

“Selections from Wordsworth.” By William Knight, and other Members of the Wordsworth Society. _The Spectator_, lxi. 1852.

1889. “Selections from Wordsworth.” By William Knight, and other Members of the Wordsworth Society. _The Athenæum_, i. 109.

“A Modern Poetic Seer.” _The Christian World._

“The Recluse.” _The Edinburgh Review_, clxix. 415. _The Academy_, xxxv. 17. Edward Dowden. _The Saturday Review_, lxvii. 43; _The Athenæum_, i. 109.

“Complete Poetical Works.” With an Introduction by John Morley. _The Edinburgh Review_, clxix. 415. _The Academy_, xxxv. 17. Edward Dowden. _The Athenæum_, i. 109.

“Wordsworthiana.” Edited by William Knight. _The Edinburgh Review_, clxix. 415; _The Academy_, xxxv. 229. Edward Dowden. _The Spectator_, lxii. 369.

“Wordsworth’s Great Failure.” _The Nineteenth Century_, xxvi. 435. William Minto.

“The Life of William Wordsworth.” By William Knight. _The Saturday Review_, lxvii. 732; _The Spectator_, lxiii. 143; _The Athenæum_, i. 719.

“Wordsworth and the Quantock Hills.” _The National Review_, xiv. 67. William Greswell.

1890. “Lyrical Ballads.” Edited by Edward Dowden. _The Spectator_, lxiv. 479.

“The Story of a Sonnet.” _The Athenæum_, i. 641. James Bromley.

“Some Early Poems of Wordsworth.” _The Athenæum_, ii. 320. J. D. C. (James Dykes Campbell).

“The Lyrical Ballads of 1800.” _The Athenæum_, ii. 699. J. D. C.

“Wordsworth’s Verses in his Guide to the Lake Country.” _The Athenæum._ J. D. C.

1891. “Wordsworth’s ‘Immortal’ Ode.” _The Parent’s Review_, i. 864, 944; ii. 70.

“The Wordsworth Dictionary of Persons and Places,” with the Familiar Quotations from his Works. (By J. R. Tutin.) _The Athenæum_, ii. 756, 834.

“The College Days of William Wordsworth.” _The Eagle_, xvi., No. 94. G. C. M. Smith.

“William Wordsworth.” By Elizabeth Wordsworth. _The Athenæum_, ii. 516.

1892. “The Yarrow of Wordsworth and Scott.” _Blackwood’s Magazine_, cli. 638. John Veitch.

“The last Decade of the last Century.” _The Contemporary Review_, lxii. 422. J.W. Hales.

“The Influence of Burns on Wordsworth.” _The Manchester Quarterly_, xi. 285. George Milner.

“Wordsworth on Old Age.” _Literary Opinion_, vii. 186, Sir Edward Strachey.

“The Birds of Wordsworth, practically, mythologically, and comparatively examined.” By William H. Wintringham. _The Athenæum_, i. 594, 634, 666, 697.

“Dove Cottage,” in _The Athenæum_, i. 727.

“The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth.” Edited by Edward Dowden. _The Athenæum._ No. 3404.

1893. “Some Unpublished Letters of William Wordsworth.” _The Cornhill Magazine_, New Series, xx. 257.

“Reminiscences of Scott, Campbell, Jeffrey, and Wordsworth.” _The Bookman_, iv. 47.

“Our Poet’s Corner.” _The Girls’ Own Paper_, xiv. 772.

“Dove Cottage, Grasmere--Wordsworth’s Home.” _The Girls’ Own Paper_, xiv. 772. Milward Wood.

“Down the Duddon with Wordsworth.” _The Leisure Hour_, xlii. 532. Herbert Rix.

“Wordsworth’s ‘Grace Darling.’” _The Athenæum_, No. 3440. Edward Dowden.

“Note by Wordsworth.” _The Athenæum_, No. 3443. E. H. C. (Ernest H. Coleridge).

“Wordsworth and the _Morning Post_.” _The Athenæum_, No. 3445. E. H. C.

1894. “Wordsworth’s ‘Castle of Indolence’ Stanzas.” _The Fortnightly Review_, lxii. 685. T. Hutchinson.

“A Century of Wordsworth.” _The Sunday at Home_, 641, 646. By E. S. Capper.

1895. “The Charm of Wordsworth.” _Great Thoughts_, iv. 399.

“Wordsworth and Carlyle: a Literary Parallel.” _Temple Bar_, cv. 261.

“Dorothy Wordsworth, 1771-1855.” _Great Thoughts_, v. 56. Alexander Small.

1896. “Wordsworth’s Quantock Poems.” _Temple Bar_, April 1896. William Greswell.

V

PARODIES ON WORDSWORTH

THE BATTERED TAR; OR, THE WAGGONER’S COMPANION. A Poem, with Sonnets, etc. J. Johnston.

1839. PETER BELL THE THIRD. By Miching Mallecho, Esq. (Percy B. Shelley).

1876. LITERARY REMAINS. By Catherine Maria Fanshawe. B. M. Pickering. London.

1888. THE POETS AT TEA. _The Cambridge Fortnightly_ (Feb. 7).

1819. THE DEAD ASSES. A Lyrical Ballad.

1819. PETER BELL. a Lyrical Ballad. By John Hamilton Reynolds. London: Taylor and Hessey.

1816. THE POETIC MIRROR; OR, THE LIVING BARDS OF BRITAIN, pp. 131-187. (By James Hogg.)

The Stranger; being a further portion of “The Recluse,” a poem.

The Flying Taylor; further extract from “The Recluse,” a poem.

James Rigg; still further extract from “The Recluse,” a poem. 12mo. London: Longmans. Second Edition. 1817.

1888. HAMILTON, WALTER. Parodies of the Works of English and American Authors, collected and annotated by Walter Hamilton. _William Wordsworth_, pp. 88-106. 8vo. London: Reeves and Turner.

VI

POEMS ADDRESSED TO WORDSWORTH, AND ALLUSIONS TO HIM BY CONTEMPORARY AND SUBSEQUENT POETS

1. COLERIDGE, S. T. _To William Wordsworth, composed on the night after his recitation of a poem on the growth of an individual mind._ Published in “Sibylline Leaves.”

2. COLERIDGE, HARTLEY. _To William Wordsworth, on his seventy-fifth Birthday._

3. WILSON, JOHN. In “The Angler’s Tent,” p. 257 of the edition of 1858.

4. KEATS, JOHN. In his Sonnets [the 2nd addressed to Haydon].

5. SHELLEY, PERCY B. _To Wordsworth._ Another reference occurs in _Alastor_.

6. MOIR, D. M. _To Wordsworth._ In _Blackwood’s Magazine_, viii. 542; afterwards included amongst his “Poems,” vol. ii. p. 28. 1852.

7, 8. BROWNING, MRS. _On a Portrait of Wordsworth by B. R. Haydon._ (Sonnets.) 1866. Vol. ii. p. 264. Also in _Lady Geraldine’s Courtship_, vol. ii. p. 109. 1866.

9. ELLIOTT, EBENEZER. In _The Village Patriarch_. Book iv. 1840.

10. TENNYSON, ALFRED LORD. In the Dedication of his _Poems_ “To the Queen.” March 1851.

11, 12. ALFORD, HENRY. In _The School of the Heart_, pp. 66, 67; and _Recollections of Wordsworth’s_ “_Ruth_,” p. 163. 1868.

13. LOWELL, JAMES RUSSELL. In _A Fable for Critics_, p. 133. 1873.

14, 15. BYRON, LORD. In _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_. Also in _Don Juan_.

16. HUNT, LEIGH. In _The Feast of the Poets_. This first appeared in _The Reflector_, which survived from 1810 to 1812.

17. HEMANS, MRS. _To Wordsworth_, in her “Miscellaneous Poems.”

18. Scenes and Hymns of Life. Dedicated to Wordsworth. p. 568. N. D.

19. HALLAM, A. H. _Meditative Fragments._ No. vi. 1863.

20, 21, 22. ARNOLD, MATTHEW. _Memorial Verses._ April 1850. Also in _Youth and Nature_, and in _Obermann Once More_. p. 203. 1869.

23, 24, 25. DE VERE, SIR AUBREY. _In Rydal with Wordsworth_ (Sonnets). p. 208. 1842. _Wordsworth._ Composed at Rydal, 1st Sept. 1860. p. 392. _Wordsworth, on Visiting the Duddon_, p. 393.

26. TOLLEMACHE, The Hon. BEATRIX L. _Wordsworth_, in “Safe Studies,” p. 409. 1884.

27. TOLLEMACHE, The Hon. BEATRIX L. _To Wordsworth_, in “Engleberg, and other Verses.” 1890.

28. BELL, GEORGE. _Rydal Mount_, in “Descriptive and other Miscellaneous Pieces in Verse.” Penrith, 1835.

29. HOUGHTON, LORD. Sonnet beginning “The hour may come,” etc. Poetical Works, vol. i. p. 267. 1876.

30. WORSLEY, P. S. Stanzas to Wordsworth, in _Blackwood’s Magazine_, xcii. pp. 92-93.

31. AUSTIN, ALFRED. _Wordsworth at Dove Cottage._ 1890.

32, 33. SCOTT, W. B. Poems (three Sonnets), pp. 180-182. 1875. Also in “A Poet’s Harvest Home,” 1893. _Wordsworth_, p. 123.

34, 35, 36. RAWNSLEY, H. D. In “Sonnets at the English Lakes.” IX. _Wordsworth’s Seat, Rydal_; LI. _A Tree planted by William Wordsworth at Wray Castle_; LXII. _Wordsworth’s Tomb._

37. PAYNE, JAMES. _Wordsworth’s Grave_, in “Lakes in Sunshine.” 1870.

38. LANDOR, L. E. _On Wordsworth’s Cottage, near Grasmere Lake_, in her “Poetical Works,” pp. 551-4. 1873.

39. ALLINGHAM, WILLIAM. _On reading of the Funeral of the Poet Wordsworth_, p. 258 of “Poems.” 1850.

40. PALGRAVE, FRANCIS TURNER. _William Wordsworth_, in his “Lyrical Poems.” 1871.

41. ANDERSON, G. F. R. _Wordsworth_, in “The White Book of the Muses,” p. 67. 1895.

42. DAWSON, JAMES, jun. _Wordsworth and Hartley Coleridge: in Grasmere Churchyard, Westmoreland._ In _Macmillan’s Magazine_, xiii. 26.

43. WATSON, WILLIAM. _Wordsworth’s Grave._ Originally published in the _National Review_, x. 40; afterwards included in the volume, “Wordsworth’s Grave, and other Poems.” 1890.

44. MATSURA (a Japanese poet). _Moonlight on Windermere_, translated by H. D. Rawnsley in _Murray’s Magazine_, Oct. 1887.

II.--_AMERICA_

BIBLIOGRAPHY of the Various Editions of WORDSWORTH’S POETICAL WORKS, which have been printed and published in the United States of America, from 1801 to 1895, arranged in Chronological Order: also a BIBLIOGRAPHY OF CRITICAL ESSAYS, and BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES, of Wordsworth’s Life and Works in Books, Reviews, and Periodicals; with Notes, by Mrs. HENRY A. ST. JOHN, Ithaca, New York.

PREFATORY NOTE

My ideal in attempting to prepare a _Bibliography of Wordsworth in America_ was high. I hoped to see each edition, or at least to identify the editions hinted at in the various catalogues. I determined to read every article, in criticism, or review; and to know if the many references, given by Poole and other authorities, were correct. As is usually the case, the reality has fallen far short of the ideal. But, while the results are not what were desired, there have been many fortunate discoveries.

Two things were learned to begin with. First, that astonishingly little care had been taken to preserve the history of the early American Editions, or to preserve, even, the earlier American Periodicals. Most of our larger libraries are amazingly deficient in these works. Second, it was found that existing Catalogues or Lists are not only far from complete, but full of gross blunders. Roorbach (the Addenda, Supplements, etc.) was found to be a mere rehash of the old trade sales Catalogues, swarming with blunders. In the matter of dates, imprints, the particular editions, the size of books, Roorbach is utterly untrustworthy. Allibone (so far as Wordsworth is concerned) is also confusing and incomplete. I did not find much in the various Public or College Library Catalogues.

I wrote to the librarians of some of the older libraries, after I had made out a preliminary list, to ascertain if they could add thereto any editions, from their cards or manuscript catalogues. From these sources I was enabled several times to solve seemingly insolvable problems.

I had assistance from, and in some instances visited, the following libraries: Cornell University, Boston Public Library, Boston Athenæum, Harvard College, Philadelphia Public Library, the Library College of Philadelphia, Mercantile Library College, Philadelphia; the Public Library, St. Louis; that of Lennox and Astor, the University of Virginia, the State Library, Richmond, Va., and one or two other Southern libraries. I have written more than one hundred letters to publishers, editors, authors, the descendants of early American Wordsworthians, Professors of Literature, and professed Wordsworthians in Seminaries and Colleges. I have examined, or employed others to examine, the following works for editions of Wordsworth: the _New York Literary World_, _Norton’s Literary Gazette_, _American Publishers’ Circular_, _Publishers’ Weekly_, _Catalogues of Congress Library_, _The Port Folio_, _American Quarterly Review_, _Knickerbocker Magazine_, _New York Quarterly Review_, _American Review_, _North American Review_. And this is but half of my story.

Poole’s “Index,” of course, was a great assistance. But I did not rely altogether on him, after I had discovered several mistakes in titles and numbering--mistakes which were confusing in the extreme. I have consulted all other Indexes and Reference Lists that I could procure, and have carefully examined the periodicals in which it was possible that such articles could be found.

My greatest light, however, came from responses to personal appeals, to those in the North, South, East, and West of the Country, who enlightened me in particular directions. I needed assistance, not only to discover the articles, but more particularly to secure the articles to read, or to procure proper persons to read the few articles that I could not obtain. When valuable books were sent me, by express, from distant College Libraries, that I might read for myself, I realised the bond there is between Wordsworthians.

I cannot begin to speak of the delight that I have had in this work, delight because of the response I have met with, and in opening up unknown and rich veins of criticism. I have learned too, that Wordsworth has many enthusiastic followers in America.

I have included in the Bibliography the accounts of visits paid to Wordsworth by certain well-known Americans, a half-dozen poems on Wordsworth, and three or four unpublished Lectures.

I am exceedingly grateful to the many who (to my surprise) have answered my questions, and have given me of their valuable time. I am especially indebted to Mr. George P. Philes, of Philadelphia, and also to Mr. F. Saunders of the Astor Library, New York. Dean Murray of Princeton rendered me exceedingly gracious service, and but for Mr. Edwin H. Woodruff of Stanford University, California, I should not have known how or where to begin my investigations.

In all probability my work is not perfect. I would that it were. I only know that I have been enabled, by enthusiasm alone, to lay a foundation for Wordsworth Bibliography in America, that may be an assistance to future scholars, and will aid the next Wordsworthian who is brave enough to build enduringly.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

I

AMERICAN EDITIONS OF WORDSWORTH

INCLUDING A FEW WORKS WHICH ARE NOT STRICTLY EDITIONS OF WORDSWORTH

I have endeavoured to include in this list every distinctive American edition of Wordsworth, published during the poet’s lifetime, and since his death. There are many others, issued with the imprints of honourable publishers; which, upon investigation, were found to be English reprints; to say nothing of those editions made from worn-out plates, and issued by houses of less reputation for honourableness. I was puzzled to account for so many editions of Matthew Arnold’s Selections, some of them bearing the imprint of Harper Brothers, some of Macmillan, and several of Crowell. The Harpers wrote me that these various publications were possible in view of the fact that there was no copyright of the work, and that all of them might properly be called American Editions. I have not placed those bearing the Macmillan imprint, of course, among purely American editions. Nor have I included the several cheap ones of Crowell. The one of Crowell, given in the list, is copyrighted by the Crowell Company.

The fact that the introduction of Wordsworth’s poetry into America is so easily authenticated, and that the history of it is so concise, is my apology for deviating from ordinary bibliographical rule in including among the regular editions certain numbers of America’s first Literary Journal, and two or three other volumes.

I have confined myself to a simple chronological arrangement of the Editions, with place of imprint, name of publisher, number, and size of volumes. This makes the most convenient list for easy reference, especially as I have tried to mention technical points of difference.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

1

1801. THE PORT FOLIO. (Edited by Joseph Dennie.) Philadelphia. 4to.

The following poems appeared in “The Port Folio,” vol. i., before the publication of the First American Edition of “Lyrical Ballads”--

(1) _Simon Lee_, p. 24.[478] (2) _The Last of the Flock_, p. 48. (3) _The Thorn_, p. 94. (4) _The Mad Mother_, p. 232. (5) _Anecdote for Fathers_, p. 232. (6) _Ellen Irwin_, p. 391. (7) _Strange Fits of Passion_, etc., p. 392. (8) _The Waterfall and the Eglantine_, p. 408. (9) _Lucy Gray_, p. 408. (10) _Andrew Jones_, p. 408.

2

1801. INTRODUCTION TO THE ENGLISH READER. By Lindley Murray. Philadelphia: Johnson and Warner. 12mo.[479]

3

1802. LYRICAL BALLADS, with Other Poems. In two volumes. By W. Wordsworth.

Quam nihil ad genium, Papiniane, tuum!

From the London second edition. Philadelphia: Printed and sold by James Humphreys. 2 vols. in one. 12mo.[480]

4

1823. THE AMERICAN FIRST CLASS BOOK. By John Pierpont. Boston: William B. Fowle. 1 vol. 12mo.[481]

5

1824. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Boston: published by Cummings, Hilliard and Co. 4 vols. 12mo.[482]

6

1833. SKETCH OF THE GENIUS AND CHARACTER OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. With Selections from his “Lyrical Ballads.”[483] Philadelphia: Greenbak’s Periodical Library. Vol. ii. pp. 181-202.

7

1835. YARROW REVISITED, and Other Poems. New York: R. Bartlett and S. Raynor. 16mo. pp. 17-244.

1835. Same Title. Boston: R. Bartlett and S. Raynor. 16mo; also, Boston: James Munroe and Co. 16mo.

1835. Same Title. Philadelphia. 12mo.

8

1836. YARROW REVISITED. Second Edition. Boston: William D. Ticknor. 16mo.

9

1836. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. The first complete American, from the last London, edition. New Haven: Peck and Newton. In 1 vol. Royal 8vo.[484]

10

1836. THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, together with a Description of the Country of the Lakes, etc. Edited by Henry Reed. With Portrait. Philadelphia: Kay and Brother. Royal 8vo; also, by James Kay and Brother.[485]

1839. Same Title. Philadelphia: Kay and Brother. Boston: Munroe and Co. Pittsburg: Kay and Co.

1844. Same Title. Philadelphia: James Kay jun.[486]

11

1842. WORDSWORTH’S POEMS. In “The New World,” vol. iv. No. 16. New York: Park Benjamin, Editor. Sat. April 9, _Sonnet Written at Florence_; April 16, _Address to the Clouds, Suggested by a Picture of the Bird of Paradise_; _Maternal Grief_ (“New Poems, never before published”). May 7, _Guilt and Sorrow_ (“From proof sheets received in advance”).[487]

12

1843. POEMS FROM THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Selected by Henry Reed.

Go forth, my little Book; pursue thy way; Go forth, and please the gentle and the good.

Philadelphia: John Locken. 32mo.

(Entered according to the Act of Congress in 1841.)

1846. Same Title. Philadelphia: Uriah Hunt and Son. 32mo.

Same Title. New York: Leavitt and Co.[488]

1853. Same Title. New York: Leavitt and Allen. 24mo.

1856. Same Title.[489] New York: Leavitt and Allen.

13

1847. WORDSWORTH’S COMPLETE POETICAL AND PROSE WORKS.[490] In 5 vols. (In Press.) Philadelphia: Kay and Troutman. 12mo.

14

1849. POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH: with an Introductory Essay on his Life and Writings. By H. T. Tuckerman. New York: C. S. Francis and Co. 12mo. pp. 21-356; also, Boston: J. H. Francis.[491]

15

1849. THE EXCURSION: a Poem. New York: C. S. Francis and Co. 12mo.

1850. THE EXCURSION, etc. New York: C. S. Francis and Co. 12mo.

1852-55. The above was again republished.

16

1850. THE PRELUDE; or, Growth of a Poet’s Mind. New York: Appleton and Co. 12mo.

1850. THE PRELUDE, etc. Philadelphia: George S. Appleton and Co. 12mo.

17

1850. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Boston: Phillips, Sampson and Co. 12mo. Reprinted in 1857 and 1859.

1859. Same Title. Boston: Phillips, Sampson and Co. 16mo.

18

1851. THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Edited by Henry Reed. Royal 8vo. Philadelphia: James Kay jun. and Brother. Also, Kay and Troutman. Also, Troutman and Hayes. Also, Hayes and Zell. Also, Porter and Coates.[492]

1852. THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Edited by Henry Reed. 8vo. Philadelphia: Troutman and Hayes.

1860. THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Edited by Henry Reed. Royal 8vo. pp. 727.[493]

19

1854. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, with a Memoir.[494] Boston: Little, Brown and Co. Also, New York: Evans and Dickenson. Also, Philadelphia: Lippincott, Grant and Co. 18mo. 7 vols.

20

1855. POETICAL WORKS OF W. WORDSWORTH. Portrait. Boston: Crosby and Nichols(?) 12mo.

21

1855. THE PRELUDE. New York: Appleton and Co. 12mo. Second Edition.

22

1860. POETICAL WORKS OF WORDSWORTH.[495] 2 vols. New York: 12mo.

23

1863. SELECTIONS FROM WORDSWORTH, with an Essay by H. T. Tuckerman. Philadelphia. 32mo.[496]

1863. Same Title. Boston.

24

1865. POEMS OF NATURE AND SENTIMENT. By William Wordsworth. Elegantly illustrated. Philadelphia: E. H. Butler and Co.[497]

25

THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.[498] A new edition. Boston: Crosby and Nichols. 12mo.

1867. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. A new edition. Boston: Crosby and Ainsworth. New York: Oliver S. Felt. 16mo. pp. 539.[499]

26

1870. THE EXCURSION: a Poem. A new edition. New York: J. Miller. 16mo.

27

1871-75. THE HOWE MEMORIAL PRIMER, in raised letters for the Blind. WORDSWORTH’S POETICAL WORKS, with a Memoir. Boston. 7 vols. 16mo. Portrait.

28

1876. WORDSWORTH’S POEMS. Selected and Prepared for Schools. Edited by H. N. Hudson. Boston: Ginn and Co. 12mo. “Text-book of Prose and Poetry Series.”

1882. Same Title. In paper. Hudson’s Pamphlet Selections of Poetry. (No. VI. Wordsworth.)

29

1877. FAVORITE POEMS. Vest-pocket Series. Boston: Osgood. Illustrated. 32mo.

1877. FAVORITE POEMS. Illustrated. Boston, Massachusetts. (Printed at Cambridge.) 16mo.

30

1877. THE POETICAL WORKS. New edition. Boston: Hurd and Houghton. 8vo. 3 vols.

31

1878. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, with Memoir. 7 vols. in 3. Boston: Houghton, Osgood and Co. Riverside Press. 8vo; also,

1880. Same Title.[500]

32

1879. WORDSWORTH’S POEMS. Chosen and Edited by Matthew Arnold. Franklin Square Library. New York: Harper and Brother. Paper 4to.

1880. Another Edition.

1891. Another Edition.

33

1881. THE EXCURSION, with a Biographical Sketch. English Classic Series. New York: Clark and Maynard. 16mo.

1889. Same Title. With Explanatory Notes. New York: Effingham, Maynard and Co.

34

1881-82. FAVORITE POEMS. By William Wordsworth. In Modern Classics, No. VII. Illustrated. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Co. 32mo.

35

1884. ODE, INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY. By William Wordsworth. Illustrated. Boston: D. Lothrop Company. Small 4to. Copyright by D. Lothrop.

36

1884. POEMS BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Selected and Prepared for use in Schools. (From Hudson’s _Text-Book of Poetry_.) Section I. Boston: Ginn, Heath and Co. 12mo.

37

1888. PRELUDE; or, Growth of a Poet’s Mind. With Notes by A. J. George. Boston: D. C. Heath and Co. 12mo.

38

1888. BITS OF BURNISHED GOLD, from William Wordsworth. Compiled by Rose Porter. New York: A. D. F. Randolph and Co. 12mo.

39

1889. SELECTIONS FROM WORDSWORTH. With Notes by A. J. George. Boston: D. C. Heath and Co. 12mo.

40

1889. MELODIES FROM NATURE. (From Wordsworth.) Illustrated. Boston: D. Lothrop Company. 4to.

41

1889. SELECT POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.[501] Edited, with Notes, by W. J. Rolfe. With Engravings. New York: Harper Brothers. Square 16mo.

42

1889. POEMS BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Selected and Prepared for use in School. Paper. (From Hudson’s _Text-Book of Poetry_.) Section II. 12mo. Boston: Ginn and Co.

43

1890. SELECT POEMS FROM WORDSWORTH, with Explanatory Notes. Edited by James H. Dillard. New York: Effingham, Maynard and Co. 12mo.

44

1890. PASTORALS, LYRICS AND SONNETS FROM THE POETIC WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Co. 16mo. White and Gold Series.

45

1891. A SELECTION OF THE SONNETS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.[502] With numerous Illustrations. By A. Parsons. New York: Harper Brothers. 4to.

46

1891. WORDSWORTH FOR THE YOUNG. Selections. Illustrated. With an Introduction for parents and teachers by Cynthia Morgan St. John. Boston: D. Lothrop Company. Small 4to. 153 pp.

47

1892. WORDSWORTH’S PREFACES AND ESSAYS ON POETRY. Edited by A. J. George. (Heath’s English Classics.) Boston: D. C. Heath and Co. 12mo.

48

1892. POEMS OF WORDSWORTH. Chosen and Edited by Matthew Arnold. Illustrated by Edmund H. Garrett. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell and Co. (Copyright 1892 by T. Y. Crowell.)

[478] _Simon Lee_ was probably the first poem of Wordsworth’s published in a Literary Journal in America, and is the beginning of Wordsworth’s Bibliography in U.S.A. A note in “The Port Folio” (vol. i. p. 24) is as follows: “The public may remember reading in some of the newspapers the interesting little ballads, _We are Seven_, and _Goody Blake and Harry Gill_. They were extracted from the ‘Lyrical Ballads,’ a collection remarkable for originality, simplicity, and nature.… The following, _Simon Lee_, is from the same work.”

It is evident from this that two, at least, of Wordsworth’s poems were copied into American newspapers as early as 1800, and that Joseph Dennie, the founder, as well as editor, of “The Port Folio”--the first purely Literary Journal established in this country--was the first American champion of Wordsworth.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[479] _The Pet Lamb_ appeared in this Book almost immediately after its publication in England. It was the first poem of Wordsworth’s published in a book in America. It was also the first instance of the introduction of a poem of Wordsworth’s into a School Book.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[480] The first American edition, and the first work by Wordsworth, printed in America. It looks as if the Poet found appreciative readers in America sooner than in England; the first edition of “Lyrical Ballads,” which had fallen dead in his own country in 1798, being published in Philadelphia in 1802. The American edition was delayed in the press, in order to include certain pieces which first appeared in the second (English) edition of 1802. See Humphreys’ Preface.

A copy of “Lyrical Ballads,” 1802, is in the possession of Judge Henry Reed, with exactly the same title-page as the above, except that it reads--

“Printed by James Humphreys for Joseph Groff.”

It is believed that the work was printed at the joint expense of Humphreys and Groff, each bookseller taking a certain number of copies upon which was placed his individual imprint. Both book-sellers advertised the volumes almost simultaneously. I know of another copy of (1802) “Lyrical Ballads,” of which the first volume contains the imprint of Humphreys, and the second volume that of Groff. The two volumes are bound together, and are _identical_ in type, paper, etc.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[481] Amongst the contents there are four long extracts from _The Excursion_, with titles attributed to W.W. _Goody Blake and Harry Gill_ is amongst the extracts from “Lyrical Ballads,” and there is a long note to the former poem by Joseph Dennie.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[482] The first collected edition of Wordsworth’s Poems printed in America.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[483] The sketch is by R. H. Home. The poems are _The Last of the Flock_, _The Dungeon_, _The Mad Mother_, _Anecdote for Fathers_, _We are Seven_, _Lines Written in Early Spring_, _The Female Vagrant_, _Goody Blake and Harry Gill_, _The Waterfall and the Eglantine_, _The Oak and the Broom_, _Lucy Gray_, _Hart-Leap Well_, _Lucy_, _Nutling_, _Ruth_.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[484] Printed and published by Peck and Newton.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[485] First double-column edition of the poems, adopted by Moxon in 1845 edition.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[486] The Boxall portrait was engraved for the above. I could not find the 1844 imprint, but presume that it is the same as that of 1837 and 1839.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[487] In an editorial of April 16 of “The New World” is the following: “We are enabled by the purchase of the printed sheets considerably in advance of their publication in England to present the first and only American Editions of new poems by William Wordsworth.”

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[488] This is spoken of in Ellis Yarnall’s Reminiscences as having no date. When John Locken--the first publisher--failed, the plates passed into the possession of Messrs. Uriah Hunt and Son. They retired from business, and Messrs. Leavitt and Co. took the plates. It is possible that there was an edition earlier than 1843.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[489] The last two named are exactly as in 1843, except that they are printed on larger paper. Why one is put down 32mo and the other 24mo is a mystery!

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[490] If this edition was published, it seems to have disappeared. It is advertised in A. V. Blake’s _American Booksellers’ Complete Trade List_, published at Claremont, N.H., 1847.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[491] Copyright in 1848. It contains about one-fifth of all Wordsworth’s poems. The Essay, which occupies ten pages, is taken “by permission” from Tuckerman’s _Thoughts on Poets_.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[492] In connection with this edition, I can vouch for the five firms of Publishers in Philadelphia, but I cannot explain it.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[493] “This edition contains some pieces omitted--inadvertently it is believed--from the latest London edition.” Additional poems have been introduced, and the arrangement changed since the 1839 edition.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[494] This edition contains a remarkable “Sketch of Wordsworth’s Life,” by James Russell Lowell, which was afterwards embodied, with additions, in _Among my Books_. Mr. Ellis Yarnall believed that this edition was an English reprint. I doubt this from the fact that it is “Entered according to the Act of Congress in 1854,” and was “Printed at Cambridge by H.O. Houghton.”

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[495] This edition is mentioned in some lists, but I am inclined to doubt if it can be authenticated.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[496] The size is given as 32mo. I have not seen the book.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[497] Edited by Waldron J. Cheney, though not credited to him. C. M. ST. JOHN.

[498] No date is given to this edition. The firm-name and place of business according to the Boston Directory would limit the date of the title page at least to 1863-65. It is in the New Haven Library. Allibone notes a volume of “Selections,” Boston, 12mo, 1863, which may be this.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[499] I have placed the two works together, as they are closely related, if not identical. The edition contains _The Excursion_ and fifty-seven other poems.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[500] From plates of the 1854 edition, with changes.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[501] This excellent edition--as to selection, size, paper, binding, and illustrations--is the best handy edition of Wordsworth issued in America.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

[502] Eighty-eight of the sonnets are here illustrated with rare skill and artistic effect. The illustrations first appeared in wood-cuts in Harper’s _Monthly Magazine_.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

II

REPRINTS, AND BOOKS, BOTH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN

A Bibliography of Wordsworth in America is not complete without some reference to the many editions of Wordsworth, and of works pertaining to him, which have--for the most part--appeared simultaneously in England and America. These works cannot properly be termed American, but they have been welcomed, and they have also supplied a want, on this side of the Atlantic. The editions are confined, for the most part, to the last twenty years. I have endeavoured to select those which are of most value.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

1

1859. WORDSWORTH’S PASTORAL POEMS. Illustrated. New York: D. Appleton and Co. 12mo.

1875. Same Title. New York: Putnam. 12mo.

2

1859. POEMS BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Selected and Edited by Robert Aris Willmott. Illustrated with 100 Designs by Birket Foster and others. London and New York: George Routledge and Co. 4to.

1870. The above republished.

3

1869. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Globe Edition. Square 12mo. Philadelphia: Lippincott and Co.

4

1874. RECOLLECTIONS OF A TOUR MADE IN SCOTLAND. By Dorothy Wordsworth. Edited by J. C. Shairp. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons. (Printed at the Edinburgh University Press.) 12mo.

5

1880. WORDSWORTH’S POEMS. Chosen and Edited by Matthew Arnold. Large Paper Edition. London and New York: Macmillan and Co. 8vo.

1892. Same Title. With Steel Portrait. Printed on India paper. London and New York: Macmillan and Co. 8vo.

6

1881. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH: a Biography with Selections from Prose and Poetry. By A. J. Symington. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 2 vols. 16mo.

7

1885. ODE ON IMMORTALITY AND LINES ON TINTERN ABBEY. London and New York: Cassell and Co. 12mo. (Popular Illustrated Series.)

8

1886. PASTORAL POEMS. London and New York: Cassell and Co. 4to.

9

1887. MEMORIALS OF COLEORTON. Edited, with Introduction and Notes, by William Knight. Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Co. 12mo. (Printed at the Edinburgh University Press.)

10

1887. THROUGH THE WORDSWORTH COUNTRY. By William Knight. London and New York: Scribner and Welford. Engraving. 8vo.

11

1888. THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. With an Introduction by John Morley. London and New York: Macmillan and Co. Crown 8vo.

12

1888. THE RECLUSE. London and New York: Macmillan and Co. 16mo.

13

1889. WORDSWORTHIANA. Edited by William Knight. London and New York: Macmillan and Co. 16mo.

14

1889. POETICAL WORKS, with Memoir. Illustrated. 8 vols. New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son. 16mo. (Printed at the University Press, Glasgow.)

15

1889. SELECTIONS FROM WORDSWORTH. By William Knight, and other Members of the Wordsworth Society. With Preface and Notes. New York: Scribner and Welford. 8vo.

16

1889. WORDSWORTH’S POETICAL WORKS. Edited by William Knight. New York: Macmillan and Co. 8 vols. 8vo. (First published in Edinburgh 1882-89.)

17

1889. LIFE OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. By William Knight. New York (and London): Macmillan and Co. 3 vols. 8vo. (First published in Edinburgh, in 1889.)

18

1891. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. By Elizabeth Wordsworth. New York: Scribner. 18mo. (Also London: Percival and Co.)

19

1889. EARLY POEMS BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Edited by J. R. Tutin. London, etc., and New York: George Routledge and Sons. (Routledge’s Pocket Library.)

20

1890. DOVE COTTAGE, Wordsworth’s Home from 1800 to 1808. By Stopford A. Brooke. Small paper. London and New York: Macmillan and Co.

21

1891. WORDSWORTH’S THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE, etc. Edited with Introduction and Notes by William Knight. (Clarendon Press Series.) London and New York: Macmillan and Co.

22

1892. WORDSWORTH’S LYRICS AND SONNETS. Selected and Edited by C. K. Shorter. London: David Stott. New York: Macmillan and Co. 32mo.

23

1892. WORDSWORTH’S POETICAL WORKS. Edited with Memoir by E. Dowden. 7 vols. 16mo. London: George Bell and Sons. New York: 112 Fourth Avenue.

24

GLEANINGS FROM WORDSWORTH. Edited by J. Robertson. Vest-pocket Edition. New York: White, Stokes and Allen. (Printed at the University Press, Glasgow.)

25

WE ARE SEVEN. By William Wordsworth.[503] With Drawings by Mary L. Grow. Small 4to. New York: E. P. Dutton and Co.

26

ODE. INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY. With Biographical Sketch and Notes. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Co., “Riverside Literature Series,” No. 76. March 1895.

[503] This was lithographed and printed by Ernest Nister at Nuremberg.

C. M. ST. JOHN.

III

BOOKS CONTAINING BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES, AND CRITICAL ESSAYS

THE WRITERS ARE ARRANGED IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER

1

1867. ALGER, W. R. _The Genius of Solitude._ Boston: Roberts Brothers. 16mo. _Wordsworth_, p. 277.

2

1859-71. ALLIBONE, S. A. _Critical Dictionary of English Literature, and British and American Authors._ Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Co. 3 vols. Imperial 8vo. _Wordsworth_, vol. iii. pp. 2843-2849.

3

1884. BURROUGHS, J. “Fresh Fields.” Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Co. 16mo. _In the Wordsworth Country_, p. 161.[504]

4

1878. CALVERT, G. H. _Wordsworth; A Biographic, Aesthetic Study._ Boston: Lee-Sheperd. 16mo.

5

1863. CALVERT, G. H. _Scenes and Thoughts in Europe._ Boston: 16mo.[505]

6

1873. CHANNING, W. ELLERY. Address before the Mercantile Library Company of Philadelphia, May 11, 1841. Also in his “Complete Works.” Boston.[506]

7

1895. CHENEY, JOHN VANCE. _Thoughts on Poetry and the Poets._ Chicago.