Part VI
. stanzas 2 and 3--although there was more of the true imaginative light in Davies than in Drayton.
'For lo, the sea that fleets about the land, And like a girdle clips her solid waist, Music and measure both doth understand; For his great crystal eye is always cast Up to the moon, and on her fixed fast: And as she danceth in her palid sphere So danceth he about his centre here.'
DAVIES
'Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the moon is cast--
If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.'
COLERIDGE.
These extracts show how both Wordsworth and Coleridge assimilated past literary products, and how they glorified them by reproduction. There was little, however, in the poetic imagery of previous centuries that Wordsworth reproduced. His imagination worked in a sphere of its own, free from the trammels of precedent; and he was more original than any other nineteenth century poet in his use of symbol and metaphor. The poem 'To Joanna' was probably composed on August 22, 1800, as the following occurs in Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal under that date:
"William was composing all the morning ... W. read us the poem of Joanna, beside the Rothay, by the roadside."
Charles Lamb wrote to Wordsworth in January 1801, of
"these continuous echoes in the story of 'Joanna's laugh,' when the mountains and all the scenery seem absolutely alive."
Ed.
* * * * *
"THERE IS AN EMINENCE,--OF THESE OUR HILLS"
Composed 1800.--Published 1800
[It is not accurate that the Eminence here alluded to could be seen from our orchard-seat. It rises above the road by the side of Grasmere Lake towards Keswick, and its name is Stone-Arthur.--I.F.]
There is an Eminence,--of these our hills The last that parleys with the setting sun; We can behold it from our orchard-seat; And, when at evening we pursue our walk Along the public way, this Peak, [1] so high 5 Above us, and so distant in its height, Is visible; and often seems to send Its own deep quiet to restore our hearts. The meteors make of it a favourite haunt: The star of Jove, so beautiful and large 10 In the mid heavens, is never half so fair As when he shines above it. 'Tis in truth The loneliest place we have among the clouds. And She who dwells with me, whom I have loved With such communion, that no place on earth 15 Can ever be a solitude to me, Hath to this lonely Summit given my Name. [2]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1840.
... this Cliff, ... 1800.]
[Variant 2:
1815.
Hath said, this lonesome Peak shall bear my Name. 1800.]
Stone-Arthur is the name of the hill, on the east side of the Vale of Grasmere, opposite Helm Crag, and between Green Head Ghyll and Tongue Ghyll.--Ed.
* * * * *
"A NARROW GIRDLE OF ROUGH STONES AND CRAGS"
Composed 1800.--Published 1800
[The character of the eastern shore of Grasmere Lake is quite changed since these verses were written, by the public road being carried along its side. The friends spoken of were Coleridge and my Sister, and the facts occurred strictly as recorded.--I.F.]
A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags, A rude and natural causeway, interposed Between the water and a winding slope Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern shore Of Grasmere safe in its own privacy: [A] 5 And there myself and two belovèd Friends, One calm September morning, ere the mist Had altogether yielded to the sun, Sauntered on this retired and difficult way. --Ill suits the road with one in haste; but we 10 Played with our time; and, as we strolled along, It was our occupation to observe Such objects as the waves had tossed ashore-- Feather, or leaf, or weed, or withered bough, Each on the other heaped, along the line 15 Of the dry wreck. And, in our vacant mood, Not seldom did we stop to watch some tuft Of dandelion seed or thistle's beard, That skimmed the surface of the dead calm lake, Suddenly halting now--a lifeless stand! 20 And starting off again with freak as sudden; [1] In all its sportive wanderings, all the while, Making report of an invisible breeze That was its wings, its chariot, and its horse, Its playmate, rather say, its moving soul. [2] 25 --And often, trifling with a privilege Alike indulged to all, we paused, one now, And now the other, to point out, perchance To pluck, some flower or water-weed, too fair Either to be divided from the place 30 On which it grew, or to be left alone To its own beauty. Many such there are, Fair ferns and flowers, and chiefly that tall fern, [3] So stately, of the queen Osmunda named; Plant lovelier, in its own retired abode 35 On Grasmere's beach, than Naiad by the side Of Grecian brook, or Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance. --So fared we that bright [4] morning: from the fields, Meanwhile, a noise was heard, the busy mirth 40 Of reapers, men and women, boys and girls. Delighted much to listen [5] to those sounds, And feeding thus our fancies, we advanced [6] Along the indented shore; when suddenly, Through a thin veil of glittering haze was seen [7] 45 Before us, on a point of jutting land, The tall and upright figure of a Man Attired in peasant's garb, who stood alone, Angling beside the margin of the lake. [8] "Improvident and reckless," we exclaimed, 50 "The Man must be, who thus can lose a day [9] Of the mid harvest, when the labourer's hire Is ample, and some little might be stored Wherewith to cheer him in the winter time." Thus talking of that Peasant, we approached 55 Close to the spot where with his rod and line He stood alone; whereat he turned his head To greet us--and we saw a Man worn down By sickness, gaunt and lean, with sunken cheeks And wasted limbs, his legs so long and lean 60 That for my single self I looked at them, Forgetful of the body they sustained.-- Too weak to labour in the harvest field, The Man was using his best skill to gain A pittance from the dead unfeeling lake 65 That knew not of his wants. I will not say What thoughts immediately were ours, nor how The happy idleness of that sweet morn, With all its lovely images, was changed To serious musing and to self-reproach. 70 Nor did we fail to see within ourselves What need there is to be reserved in speech, And temper all our thoughts with charity. --Therefore, unwilling to forget that day, My Friend, Myself, and She who then received 75 The same admonishment, have called the place By a memorial name, uncouth indeed As e'er by mariner was given to bay Or foreland, on a new-discovered coast; And POINT RASH-JUDGMENT is the name it bears. 80
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1815. (Compressing five lines into three.)
... thistle's beard, Which, seeming lifeless half, and half impell'd By some internal feeling, skimm'd along Close to the surface of the lake that lay Asleep in a dead calm, ran closely on Along the dead calm lake, now here, now there, 1800.]
[Variant 2:
1820.
Its very playmate, and its moving soul. 1800.]
[Variant 3:
1802.
... tall plant ... 1800.]
[Variant 4:
1827.
... sweet ... 1800.]
[Variant 5:
1800.
... with listening ... C.]
[Variant 6:
1820.
And in the fashion which I have describ'd, Feeding unthinking fancies, we advanc'd 1800.]
[Variant 7:
1827.
... we saw 1800.]
[Variant 8:
1800.
... a lake. 1802.
The text of 1815 returns to that of 1800.]
[Variant 9:
1827.
... the margin of the lake. That way we turn'd our steps; nor was it long, Ere making ready comments on the sight Which then we saw, with one and the same voice We all cried out, that he must be indeed An idle man, who thus could lose a day 1800.
Did all cry out, that he must be indeed An Idler, he who thus ... 1815.]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: A new road has destroyed this retirement. (MS. footnote in Lord Coleridge's copy of the edition of 1836.)--Ed.]
The text of this poem reached its final state in the edition of 1827. The same is true of the poem which follows, 'To M. H.', with the exception of a single change.
In Wordsworth's early days at Grasmere, a wild woodland path of quiet beauty led from Dove Cottage along the margin of the lake to the "Point" referred to in this poem, leaving the eastern shore truly "safe in its own privacy"--a "retired and difficult way"; the high-way road for carriages being at that time over White Moss Common. The late Dr. Arnold, of Rugby and Foxhowe, used to name the three roads from Rydal to Grasmere thus: the highest, "Old Corruption"; the intermediate, "Bit by bit Reform"; the lowest and most level, "Radical Reform." Wordsworth was never quite reconciled to the radical reform effected on a road that used to be so delightfully wild and picturesque. The spot which the three friends rather infelicitously named "Point Rash-Judgment" is easily identified; although, as Wordsworth remarks, the character of the shore is changed by the public road being carried along its side. The friends were quite aware that the "memorial name" they gave it was "uncouth." In spite of its awkwardness, however, it will probably survive; if not for Browning's reason
'The better the uncouther; Do roses stick like burrs?'
at least because of the incident which gave rise to the poem. The date of composition is fixed by Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal,
"10th Oct. 1800, Wm. sat up after me, writing 'Point Rash-Judgment.'"
Ed.
* * * * *
TO M. H.
Composed 1800.--Published 1800
[To Mary Hutchinson, two years before our marriage. The pool alluded to is in Rydal Upper Park.--I.F.]
Our walk was far among the ancient trees: There was no road, nor any woodman's path; But a [1] thick umbrage--checking the wild growth Of weed and sapling, along soft green turf [2] Beneath the branches--of itself had made 5 A track, that [3] brought us to a slip of lawn, And a small bed of water in the woods. All round this pool both flocks and herds might drink On its firm margin, even as from a well, Or some stone-basin which the herdsman's hand 10 Had shaped for their refreshment; nor did sun, Or wind from any quarter, ever come, But as a blessing to this calm recess, This glade of water and this one green field. The spot was made by Nature for herself; 15 The travellers know it not, and 'twill remain Unknown to them; but it is beautiful; And if a man should plant his cottage near, Should sleep beneath the shelter of its trees, And blend its waters with his daily meal, 20 He would so love it, that in his death-hour Its image would survive among his thoughts: And therefore, my sweet MARY, this still Nook, With all its beeches, we have named from You! [4]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1836.
But the ... 1800.]
[Variant 2:
1827.
... on the soft green turf 1800.
... smooth dry ground MS.]
[Variant 3:
1827.
... which ... 1800.]
[Variant 4:
1800.
... for You. 1802.
The text of 1815 returns to that of 1800.]
To find the pool referred to in the Fenwick note, I have carefully examined the course of Rydal beck, all the way up to the foot of the Fell. There is a pool beyond the enclosures of the Hall property, about five hundred feet above Rydal Mount, which partly corresponds to the description in the poem, but there is no wood around it now; and the trees which skirt its margin are birch, ash, oak, and hazel, but there are no beeches. It is a short way below some fine specimens of ice-worn rocks, which are to the right of the stream as you ascend it, and above these rocks is a well-marked moraine. It is a deep crystal pool, and has a "firm margin" of (artificially placed) stones. This may be the spot described in the poem; or another, within the grounds of the Hall, may be the place referred to. It is a sequestered nook, beside the third waterfall as you ascend the beck--this third cascade being itself a treble fall. Seen two or three days after rain, when the stream is full enough to break over the whole face of the rock in showers of snowy brightness, yet low enough to shew the rock behind its transparent veil, it is specially beautiful. Trees change so much in eighty years that the absence of "beeches" now would not make this site impossible. In a MS. copy of the poem (of date Dec. 28, 1800), the last line is
'With all its poplars, we have named from you.'
Of the circular pool beneath this fall it may be said, as Wordsworth describes it, that
'... both flocks and herds might drink On its firm margin, even as from a well;'
and a "small slip of lawn" might easily have existed there in his time. We cannot, however, be confident as to the locality, and I add the opinion of several, whose judgment may be deferred to. Dr. Cradock writes:
"As to Mary Hutchinson's pool, I think that it was not on the beck anywhere, but some detached little pool, far up the hill, to the eastwards of the Hall, in 'the woods.' The description does not well suit any part of Rydal beck; and no spot thereon could long 'remain unknown,' as the brook was until lately much haunted by anglers."
My difficulty as to a site "far up the hill" is, that it must have been a pool of some size, if "both flocks and herds might drink" all round it; and there is no stream, scarce even a rill that joins Rydal beck on the right, all the way up from its junction with the Rothay. The late Mr. Hull of Rydal Cottage, wrote:
"Although closely acquainted with every nook about Rydal Park, I have never been able to discover any spot corresponding to that described in Wordsworth's lines to M. H. It is possible, however, that the 'small bed of water' may have been a temporary rain pool, such as sometimes lodges in the hollows on the mountain-slope after heavy rain."
Mr. F. M. Jones, the agent of the Rydal property, writes:
"I do not know of any pool of water in the Upper Rydal Park. There are some pools up the river, 'Mirror Pool' among them; but I hardly think there can ever have been 'beech-trees' growing near them."
There are many difficulties, and the place cannot now be identified. Wordsworth's own wish will doubtless be realised,
'The travellers know it not, and 'twill remain Unknown to them.'
Ed.
* * * * *
THE WATERFALL AND THE EGLANTINE
Composed 1800.--Published 1800
[Suggested nearer to Grasmere, in the same mountain track as that referred to in the following note. The Eglantine remained many years afterwards, but is now gone.--I.F.]
Included among the "Poems of the Fancy."--Ed.
I "Begone, thou fond presumptuous Elf," Exclaimed an angry Voice, [1] "Nor dare to thrust thy foolish self Between me and my choice!" A small Cascade fresh swoln with snows 5 Thus threatened a poor Briar-rose, [2] That, all bespattered with his foam, And dancing high and dancing low, Was living, as a child might know, In an unhappy home. 10
II "Dost thou presume my course to block? Off, off! or, puny Thing! I'll hurl thee headlong with the rock To which thy fibres cling." The Flood was tyrannous and strong; [A] 15 The patient Briar suffered long, Nor did he utter groan or sigh, Hoping the danger would be past; But, seeing no relief, at last, He ventured to reply. 20
III "Ah!" said the Briar, "blame me not; Why should we dwell in strife? We who in this sequestered spot [3] Once lived a happy life! You stirred me on my rocky bed--25 What pleasure through my veins you spread The summer long, from day to day, My leaves you freshened and bedewed; Nor was it common gratitude That did your cares repay. 30
IV "When spring came on with bud and bell, [B] Among these rocks did I Before you hang my wreaths [4] to tell That gentle days were nigh! And in the sultry summer hours, 35 I sheltered you with leaves and flowers; And in my leaves--now shed and gone, The linnet lodged, and for us two Chanted his pretty songs, when you Had little voice or none. 40
V "But now proud thoughts are in your breast-- What grief is mine you see, Ah! would you think, even yet how blest Together we might be! Though of both leaf and flower bereft, 45 Some ornaments to me are left-- Rich store of scarlet hips is mine, With which I, in my humble way, Would deck you many a winter day, [5] A happy Eglantine!" 50
VI What more he said I cannot tell, The Torrent down the rocky dell Came thundering loud and fast; [6] I listened, nor aught else could hear; The Briar quaked--and much I fear 55 Those accents were his last.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1836.
... a thundering Voice, 1800.]
[Variant 2:
1820.
A falling Water swoln with snows Thus spake to a poor Briar-rose, 1800.]
[Variant 3:
1820.
... in this, our natal spot, 1800.]
[Variant 4:
1815.
... wreath ... 1800.]
[Variant 5:
1836.
... Winter's day, 1800.]
[Variant 6:
1840.
The stream came thundering down the dell And gallop'd loud and fast; 1800.
The Torrent thundered down the dell With unabating haste; 1815.
With aggravated haste; 1827.
The Stream came thundering down the dell 1836.]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Compare 'The Ancient Mariner' (