book XI

. of 'Paradise Lost' includes lines 185-90.--Ed.]

* * * * *

TO A BUTTERFLY (#2)

Composed April 20, 1802.--Published 1807

[Written at the same time and place. The Orchard, Grasmere Town-end, 1801.--I.F.]

Included among the "Poems founded on the Affections."--Ed.

I've watch'd you now a full [1] half-hour, Self-poised upon that yellow flower; And, little Butterfly! indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless!--not frozen seas 5 More motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again!

This plot of orchard-ground is ours; 10 My trees they are, my Sister's flowers; Here rest your wings when they are weary; Here lodge as in a sanctuary! [2] Come often to us, fear no wrong; Sit near us on the bough! 15 We'll talk of sunshine and of song, And summer days, when we were young; Sweet childish days, that were as long As twenty days are now.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1807.

... short ... 1836.

The text of 1845 reverts to the reading of 1807.]

[Variant 2:

1815.

Stop here whenever you are weary, And rest as in a sanctuary! 1807.

And feed ... MS.]

Wordsworth's date, as given to Miss Fenwick, is incorrect. In her Journal, April 20, 1802, Dorothy Wordsworth writes:

"William wrote a conclusion to the poem of 'The Butterfly', 'I've watch'd you now a full half-hour.'"

This, and the structure of the two poems, makes it probable that the latter was originally meant to be a sort of conclusion to the former (p. 283); but they were always printed as separate poems.

Many of the "flowers" in the orchard at Dove Cottage were planted by Dorothy Wordsworth, and some of the "trees" by William. The "summer days" of childhood are referred to in the previous poem, 'To a Butterfly', written on the 14th of March 1802.--Ed.

* * * * *

FORESIGHT

Composed April 28, 1802.--Published 1807

[Also composed in the Orchard, Town-end, Grasmere.--I.F.]

Included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--Ed.

That is work of waste and ruin--[1] Do as Charles and I are doing! Strawberry-blossoms, one and all, We must spare them--here are many: Look at it--the flower is small, 5 Small and low, though fair as any: Do not touch it! summers two I am older, Anne, than you. Pull the primrose, sister Anne! Pull as many as you can. 10 --Here are daisies, take your fill; Pansies, and the cuckoo-flower: Of the lofty daffodil Make your bed, or [2] make your bower; Fill your lap, and fill your bosom; 15 Only spare the strawberry-blossom!

Primroses, the Spring may love them-- Summer knows but little of them: Violets, a barren kind, Withered on the ground must lie; 20 Daisies leave no fruit behind When the pretty flowerets die; Pluck them, and another year As many will be blowing here. [3]

God has given a kindlier power [4] 25 To the favoured strawberry-flower. Hither soon as spring is fled You and Charles and I will walk; [5] Lurking berries, ripe and red, Then will hang on every stalk, 30 Each within its leafy bower; And for that promise spare the flower!

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1815.

That is work which I am rueing--1807.]

[Variant 2:

1836.

... and ... 1807.]

[Variant 3:

1815.

Violets, do what they will, Wither'd on the ground must lie; Daisies will be daisies still; Daisies they must live and die: Fill your lap, and fill your bosom, Only spare the Strawberry-blossom! 1807.]

[Variant 4: This last stanza was added in the edition of 1815.]

[Variant 5:

1836.

When the months of spring are fled Hither let us bend our walk; 1815.]

The full title of this poem, in the editions of 1807 to 1832, was 'Foresight, or the Charge of a Child to his younger Companion', but it was originally known in the household as "Children gathering Flowers." The shortened title was adopted in 1836. The following is from Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal:

"Wednesday, 28th April (1802).--Copied the 'Prioress's Tale'. William was in the orchard. I went to him; he worked away at his poem, though he was ill, and tired. I happened to say that when I was a child I would not have pulled a strawberry blossom; I left him, and wrote out the 'Manciple's Tale'. At dinner time he came in with the poem of 'Children gathering Flowers,' but it was not quite finished, and it kept him long from his dinner. It is now done. He is working at 'The Tinker.'"

At an earlier date in the same year,--Jan. 31st, 1802,--the following occurs:

"I found a strawberry blossom in a rock. The little slender flower had more courage than the green leaves, for _they_ were but half expanded and half grown, but the blossom was spread full out. I uprooted it rashly, and I felt as if I had been committing an outrage; so I planted it again. It will have but a stormy life of it, but let it live if it can."

With this poem compare a parallel passage in Marvel's 'The Picture of T. C. in a Prospect of Flowers':

'But oh, young beauty of the woods, Whom nature courts with fruits and flowers, Gather the flowers, but spare the buds; Lest Flora, angry at thy crime To kill her infants in their prime, Should quickly make the example yours; And, ere we see, Nip in the blossom all our hopes in thee.'

Ed.

* * * * *

TO THE SMALL CELANDINE [A]

Composed April 30, 1802.--Published 1807

[Written at Town-end, Grasmere. It is remarkable that this flower, coming out so early in the spring as it does, and so bright and beautiful, and in such profusion, should not have been noticed earlier in English verse. What adds much to the interest that attends it is its habit of shutting itself up and opening out according to the degree of light and temperature of the air.--I.F.]

One of the "Poems of the Fancy." In the original MS. this poem is called 'To the lesser Celandine', but in the proof "small" was substituted for "lesser."

In Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal the following occurs, under date April 30, 1802:

"We came into the orchard directly after breakfast, and sat there. The lake was calm, the sky cloudy. William began to write the poem of 'The Celandine'.... I walked backwards and forwards with William. He repeated his poem to me, then he got to work again, and would not give over."

Ed.

Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises; Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory; Long as there are violets, 5 They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.

Eyes of some men travel far For the finding of a star; 10 Up and down the heavens they go, Men that keep a mighty rout! I'm as great as they, I trow, Since the day I found thee out, Little Flower!--I'll make a stir, 15 Like a sage [1] astronomer.

Modest, yet withal an Elf Bold, and lavish of thyself; Since we needs must first have met I have seen thee, high and low, 20 Thirty years or more, and yet 'Twas a face I did not know; Thou hast now, go where I may, Fifty greetings in a day.

Ere a leaf is on a bush, 25 In the time before the thrush Has a thought about her [2] nest, Thou wilt come with half a call, Spreading out thy glossy breast Like a careless Prodigal; 30 Telling tales about the sun, When we've little warmth, or none.

Poets, vain men in their mood! Travel with the multitude: Never heed them; I aver 35 That they all are wanton wooers; But the thrifty cottager, Who stirs little out of doors, Joys to spy thee near her home; Spring is coming, Thou art come! 40

[B]

Comfort have thou of thy merit, Kindly, unassuming Spirit! Careless of thy neighbourhood, Thou dost show thy pleasant face On the moor, and in the wood, 45 In the lane;--there's not a place, Howsoever mean it be, But 'tis good enough for thee.

Ill befal the yellow flowers, Children of the flaring hours! 50 Buttercups, that will be seen, Whether we will see or no; Others, too, of lofty mien; They have done as worldlings do, Taken praise that should be thine, 55 Little, humble Celandine!

Prophet of delight and mirth, Ill-requited [3] upon earth; Herald of a mighty band, Of a joyous train ensuing, 60 Serving at my heart's command, Tasks that are no tasks renewing, [4] I will sing, as doth behove, Hymns in praise of what I love!

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1836.

... great ... 1807.]

[Variant 2:

1832.

... it's ... 1807.]

[Variant 3:

1836.

Scorn'd and slighted ... 1807.]

[Variant 4:

1836.

Singing at my heart's command, In the lanes my thoughts pursuing, 1807.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: Common Pilewort.--W. W. 1807.]

[Footnote B: The following stanza was inserted in the editions of 1836-1843:

'Drawn by what peculiar spell, By what charm for sight or smell, Do those wingèd dim-eyed creatures, Labourers sent from waxen cells, Settle on thy brilliant features, In neglect of buds and bells Opening daily at thy side, By the season multiplied?'

In 1845 it was transferred to the following poem, where it will be found, with a change of text.--Ed.]

* * * * *

TO THE SAME FLOWER

Composed May 1, 1802.--Published 1807

One of the "Poems of the Fancy."--Ed.

Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet: February last, my heart First at sight of thee was glad; All unheard of as thou art, 5 Thou must needs, I think, have had, Celandine! and long ago, Praise of which I nothing know.

I have not a doubt but he, Whosoe'er the man might be, 10 Who the first with pointed rays (Workman worthy to be sainted) Set the sign-board in a blaze, When the rising [1] sun he painted, Took the fancy from a glance 15 At thy glittering countenance.

Soon as gentle breezes bring News of winter's vanishing, And the children build their bowers, Sticking 'kerchief-plots of mould 20 All about with full-blown flowers, Thick as sheep in shepherd's fold! With the proudest thou art there, Mantling in the tiny square.

Often have I sighed to measure 25 By myself a lonely pleasure, Sighed to think, I read a book Only read, perhaps, by me; Yet I long could overlook Thy bright coronet and Thee, 30 And thy arch and wily ways, And thy store of other praise.

Blithe of heart, from week to week Thou dost play at hide-and-seek; While the patient primrose sits 35 Like a beggar in the cold, Thou, a flower of wiser wits, Slip'st into thy sheltering [2] hold; Liveliest of the vernal train [3] When ye all are out again. 40

Drawn by what peculiar spell, By what charm of sight or smell, Does the dim-eyed curious Bee, Labouring for her waxen cells, Fondly settle upon Thee 45 Prized above all buds and bells Opening daily at thy side, By the season multiplied? [4]

Thou art not beyond the moon, But a thing "beneath our shoon:" [A] 50 Let the bold Discoverer thrid In his bark the polar sea; Rear who will a pyramid; [5] Praise it is enough for me, If there be but three or four 55 Who will love my little Flower.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1836.

... risen ... 1807.]

[Variant 2:

1832.

... shelter'd ... 1807.]

[Variant 3:

1845.

Bright as any of the train 1807.]

[Variant 4: This stanza was added in 1845. (See note [Footnote B, To the Small Celandine], p. 302.)]

[Variant 5:

1845.

Let, as old Magellen did, Others roam about the sea; Build who will a pyramid; [a] 1807.

Let, with bold advent'rous skill, Others thrid the polar sea; Rear a pyramid who will; 1820.

Let the bold Adventurer thrid In his bark the polar sea; Rear who will a pyramid; 1827.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: This may be an imperfect reminiscence of 'Comus', ll. 634-5.--Ed.]

* * * * *

SUB-FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Sub-Footnote a: Barron Field asked Wordsworth to restore these lines of 1807, and Wordsworth promised to do so, but never did it.--Ed.]

The following is an extract from Dorothy Wordsworth's Grasmere Journal. Saturday, May 1.

"A heavenly morning. We went into the garden, and sowed the scarlet beans about the house. It was a clear sky. I sowed the flowers, William helped me. We then went and sat in the orchard till dinner time. It was very hot. William wrote 'The Celandine' (second part). We planned a shed, for the sun was too much for us."

Ed.

* * * * *

STANZAS WRITTEN IN MY POCKET COPY OF THOMSON'S "CASTLE OF INDOLENCE"

Begun 9th May, finished 11th May, 1802.--Published 1815

[Composed in the orchard, Town-end, Grasmere, Coleridge living with us much at this time: his son Hartley has said, that his father's character and habits are here preserved in a livelier way than in anything that has been written about him. I.F.]

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

Within our happy Castle there dwelt One Whom without blame I may not overlook; For never sun on living creature shone Who more devout enjoyment with us took: Here on his hours he hung as on a book, 5 On his own time here would he float away, As doth a fly upon a summer brook; But go to-morrow, or belike to-day, Seek for him,--he is fled; and whither none can say.

Thus often would he leave our peaceful home, 10 And find elsewhere his business or delight; Out of our Valley's limits did he roam: Full many a time, upon a stormy night, [A] His voice came to us from the neighbouring height: Oft could [1] we see him driving full in view 15 At midday when the sun was shining bright; What ill was on him, what he had to do, A mighty wonder bred among our quiet crew.

Ah! piteous sight it was to see this Man When he came back to us, a withered flower,--20 Or like a sinful creature, pale and wan. Down would he sit; and without strength or power Look at the common grass from hour to hour: And oftentimes, how long I fear to say, Where apple-trees in blossom made a bower, 25 Retired in that sunshiny shade he lay; [B] And, like a naked Indian, slept himself away.

Great wonder to our gentle tribe it was Whenever from our Valley he withdrew; For happier soul no living creature has 30 Than he had, being here the long day through. Some thought he was a lover, and did woo: Some thought far worse of him, and judged him wrong; But verse was what he had been wedded to; And his own mind did like a tempest strong 35 Come to him thus, and drove the weary Wight along.[C]

With him there often walked in friendly guise, Or lay upon the moss by brook or tree, A noticeable Man with large grey eyes, And a pale face that seemed undoubtedly 40 As if a blooming face it ought to be; Heavy his low-hung lip did oft appear, Deprest by weight of musing Phantasy; Profound his forehead was, though not severe; Yet some did think that he had little business here: 45

Sweet heaven forefend! his was a lawful right; Noisy he was, and gamesome as a boy; His limbs would toss about him with delight Like branches when strong winds the trees annoy. Nor lacked his calmer hours device or toy 50 To banish listlessness and irksome care; He would have taught you how you might employ Yourself; and many did to him repair,-- And certes not in vain; he had inventions rare.

Expedients, too, of simplest sort he tried: 55 Long blades of grass, plucked round him as he lay, Made, to his ear attentively applied, A pipe on which the wind would deftly play; Glasses he had, that little things display, The beetle panoplied in gems and gold, [2] 60 A mailed angel on a battle-day; The mysteries that cups of flowers enfold, [3] And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.

He would entice that other Man to hear His music, and to view his imagery: 65 And, sooth, these two were each to the other dear: No livelier love in such a place could be: [4] There did they dwell-from earthly labour free, As happy spirits as were ever seen; If but a bird, to keep them company, 70 Or butterfly sate down, they were, I ween, As pleased as if the same had been a Maiden-queen.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1836.

... did ... 1815.]

[Variant 2:

1827.

The beetle with his radiance manifold, 1815.]

[Variant 3:

1827.

And cups of flowers, and herbage green and gold; 1815.]

[Variant 4:

1836.

And, sooth, these two did love each other dear, As far as love in such a place could be; 1815.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: Compare

'And oft he traced the uplands to survey, When o'er the sky advanced the kindling dawn, The crimson cloud.'

Beattie's 'Minstrel', book I , st. 20.

'And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb When all in mist the world below was lost.'

## Book I . st. 21.

'And of each gentle, and each dreadful scene In darkness, and in storm, he found delight.'

##