book iii
. l. 931.--Ed.]
[Footnote D: The impressive circumstance here described, actually took place some years ago in this country, upon an eminence called Kidstow Pike, one of the highest of the mountains that surround Hawes-water. The summit of the pike was stricken by lightning; and every trace of one of the fountains disappeared, while the other continued to flow as before.--W. W. 1800.]
[Footnote E: There is not any thing more worthy of remark in the manners of the inhabitants of these mountains, than the tranquillity, I might say indifference, with which they think and talk upon the subject of death. Some of the country church-yards, as here described, do not contain a single tomb-stone, and most of them have a very small number.--W. W. 1800.]
[Footnote F: The name in the original MS. was "Wilfred Evans."--Ed.]
[Footnote G: The great Gavel, so called I imagine, from its resemblance to the Gable end of a house, is one of the highest of the Cumberland mountains. It stands at the head of the several vales of Ennerdale, Wastdale, and Borrowdale.
The Leeza is a River which flows into the Lake of Ennerdale: on issuing from the Lake, it changes its name, and is called the End, Eyne, or Enna. It falls into the sea a little below Egremont--W. W. 1800.]
[Footnote H: See Coleridge's criticism of these lines in a note to
## chapter xviii. of 'Biographia Literaria' (vol. ii. p. 83 of the edition
of 1817).--Ed.]
This poem illustrates the way in which Wordsworth's imagination worked upon a minimum of fact, idealizing a simple story, and adding
'the gleam, The light that never was, on sea or land, The consecration, and the Poet's dream.'
It is the only poem of his referring to Ennerdale; but perhaps the chief association with that dale, to those who visit it after becoming acquainted with this poem, will be the fact that the brothers Ewbank were supposed to have spent their youth under the shadow of the Pillar, and Leonard to have had this conversation, on his return from sea, with the venerable priest of Ennerdale. The district is described with all that local accuracy which Wordsworth invariably showed in idealization. The height whence James Ewbank is supposed to have fallen is not the Pillar-Rock--a crag somewhat difficult to ascend, except by practised climbers, and which has only been accessible since mountaineering became an art and a passion to Englishmen. But, if we suppose the conversation with the priest of Ennerdale to have taken place at the Bridge, below the Lake--as that is the only place where there is both a hamlet and "a churchyard"--the "precipice" will refer to the Pillar "Mountain." Both are alluded to in the poem. The lines,
'You see yon precipice;--it wears the shape Of a vast building made of many crags; And in the midst is one particular rock That rises like a column from the vale, Whence by our shepherds it is called, _The Pillar_,'
are definite enough. The great mass of the Pillar Mountain is first referred to, and then the Rock which is a characteristic spur, halfway up the mountain on its northern side. The "aëry summit crowned with heath," however, on which "the loiterer" "lay stretched at ease," could neither be the top of this "rock" nor the summit of the "mountain": not the former, because there is no heath on it, and it would be impossible for a weary man, loitering behind his companions, to ascend it to rest; not the latter, because no one resting on the summit of the mountain could be "not unnoticed by his comrades," and they would not pass that way over the top of the mountain "on their return" to Ennerdale. This is an instance, therefore, in which precise localization is impossible. Probably Wordsworth did not know either that the pillar "rock" was bare on the summit, or that it had never been ascended in 1800; and he idealised it to suit his imaginative purpose. In connection with this poem, a remark he made to the Hon. Mr. Justice Coleridge may be recalled.
"He said there was some foundation in fact, however slight, for every poem he had written of a narrative kind; ... 'The Brothers' was founded on a young shepherd, in his sleep, having fallen down a crag, his staff remaining suspended mid-way."
(See the 'Memoirs of Wordsworth', by the late Bishop of Lincoln, vol. ii. p. 305.) It should be added that the character of Leonard Ewbank was drawn in large part from that of the poet's brother John--Ed.
* * * * *
THE SEVEN SISTERS; OR, THE SOLITUDE OF BINNORIE [A]
Composed 1800. [B]--Published 1807
The Story of this Poem is from the German of Frederica Brun. [C]--W. W. 1807.
One of the "Poems of the Fancy."--Ed.
I Seven Daughters had Lord Archibald, All children of one mother: You could [1] not say in one short day What love they bore each other. A garland, of seven lilies, wrought! 5 Seven Sisters that together dwell; But he, bold Knight as ever fought, Their Father, took of them no thought, He loved the wars so well. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, 10 The solitude of Binnorie!
II Fresh blows the wind, a western wind, And from the shores of Erin, Across the wave, a Rover brave To Binnorie is steering: 15 Right onward to the Scottish strand The gallant ship is borne; The warriors leap upon the land, And hark! the Leader of the band Hath blown his bugle horn. 20 Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie.
III Beside a grotto of their own, With boughs above them closing, The Seven are laid, and in the shade 25 They lie like fawns reposing. But now, upstarting with affright At noise of man and steed, Away they fly to left, to right-- Of your fair household, Father-knight, 30 Methinks you take small heed! Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie.
IV Away the seven fair Campbells fly, And, over hill and hollow, 35 With menace proud, and insult loud, The youthful Rovers [2] follow. Cried they, "Your Father loves to roam: Enough for him to find The empty house when he comes home; 40 For us your yellow ringlets comb, For us be fair and kind!" Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie.
V Some close behind, some side by side, 45 Like clouds in stormy weather; They run, and cry, "Nay, let us die, And let us die together." A lake was near; the shore was steep; There never foot had been; 50 They ran, and with a desperate leap Together plunged into the deep, [3] Nor ever more were seen. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie. 55
VI The stream that flows out of the lake, As through the glen it rambles, Repeats a moan o'er moss and stone, For those seven lovely Campbells. Seven little Islands, green and bare, 60 Have risen from out the deep: The fishers say, those sisters fair, By faeries all are buried there, And there together sleep. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, 65 The solitude of Binnorie.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1836.
I could ... 1807.]
[Variant 2:
1807.
The Irish Rovers ... MS.]
[Variant 3:
1807.
The sisters ran like mountain sheep MS.
And in together did they leap MS.]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: It is a well-known Scottish Ballad. In Jamieson's 'Popular Ballads', vol. i. p. 50 (1806), its title is "The Twa Sisters." In Walter Scott's 'Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border', vol. iii. p. 287, it is called "The Cruel Sisters." In 'The Ballads of Scotland', collected by W. Edmonstone Aytoun (1858), vol. i. p. 194, it is printed "Binnorie." In 1807 Wordsworth printed the sub-title 'The Solitude of Binnorie'.--Ed.]
[Footnote B: In Dorothy Wordsworth's Grasmere Journal there is an entry, under date August 16, 1800,
"William read us 'The Seven Sisters'."
It is uncertain whether this refers to his own poem or not, but I incline to think it does.--Ed.]
[Footnote C: In a MS. copy this note runs thus:
"This poem, in the groundwork of the story, is from the German of Frederica Brun."
Ed.]
* * * * *
RURAL ARCHITECTURE
Composed 1800.--Published 1800
[Written at Town-end, Grasmere. These structures, as every one knows, are common amongst our hills, being built by shepherds, as conspicuous marks, and occasionally by boys in sport.--I. F.]
Included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--Ed.
There's George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald Shore, [1] Three rosy-cheeked school-boys, the highest not more Than the height of a counsellor's bag; To the top of GREAT HOW [A] did it please them to climb: [2] And there they built up, without mortar or lime, 5 A Man on the peak of the crag.
They built him of stones gathered up as they lay: They built him and christened him all in one day, An urchin both vigorous and hale; And so without scruple they called him Ralph Jones. 10 Now Ralph is renowned for the length of his bones; The Magog of Legberthwaite dale.
Just half a week after, the wind sallied forth, And, in anger or merriment, out of the north, Coming on with a terrible pother, 15 From the peak of the crag blew the giant away. And what did these school-boys?--The very next day They went and they built up another.
--Some little I've seen of blind boisterous works By Christian disturbers more savage than Turks, [3] 20 Spirits busy to do and undo: At remembrance whereof my blood sometimes will flag; Then, light-hearted Boys, to the top of the crag; And I'll build up a giant with you. [4]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1800.
From the meadows of ARMATH, on THIRLMERE'S wild shore, 1827.
The text of 1832 reverts to that of 1800.]
[Variant 2:
1800.
... were once tempted to climb; 1827
The text of 1832 reverts to that of 1800.]
[Variant 3:
1820.
In Paris and London, 'mong Christians or Turks, 1800]
[Variant 4: This last stanza was omitted from the editions of 1805 and 1815. It was restored in 1820.]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Great How is a single and conspicuous hill, which rises towards the foot of Thirl-mere, on the western side of the beautiful dale of Legberthwaite, along the high road between Keswick and Ambleside.--W. W. 1800.]
The editions of 1836, 1840, 1841, 1842, 1843, and 1845, and the Fenwick note, assign this poem to the year 1801. It must, however, have been composed during the previous year, because it was published in the "Lyrical Ballads" of 1800. The locality referred to--which is also associated with 'The Waggoner'--is easily identified.
In a letter to Wordsworth, written in the year 1815, Charles Lamb said: "How I can be brought in, _felo de omittendo_, for that ending to the Boy-builders is a mystery. I can't say positively now, I only know that no line oftener or readier occurs than that 'Light-hearted boys, I will build up a Giant with you.' It comes naturally, with a warm holiday, and the freshness of the blood. It is a perfect summer amulet, that I tie round my legs to quicken their motion when I go out a maying." (See _Letters of Charles Lamb_, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p. 287.)--Ed.
* * * * *
A CHARACTER
Composed 1800.--Published 1800
[The principal features are taken from my friend Robert Jones.--I. F.]
Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.
I marvel how Nature could ever find space For so many strange contrasts in one human face: [1] There's thought and no thought, and there's paleness and bloom And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom.
There's weakness, and strength both redundant and vain; 5 Such strength as, if ever affliction and pain Could pierce through a temper that's soft to disease, Would be rational peace--a philosopher's ease.
There's indifference, alike when he fails or [2] succeeds, And attention full ten times as much as there needs; 10 Pride where there's no envy, there's so much of joy; And mildness, and spirit both forward and coy.
There's freedom, and sometimes a diffident stare Of shame scarcely seeming to know that she's there, There's virtue, the title it surely may claim, 15 Yet wants heaven knows what to be worthy the name.
This picture from nature may seem to depart, [3] Yet the Man would at once run away with your heart; And I for five centuries right gladly would be Such an odd such a kind happy creature as he. 20
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1837.
For the weight and the levity seen in his face: 1800.]
[Variant 2:
1837.
... and ... 1800.]
[Variant 3:
1837.
What a picture! 'tis drawn without nature or art, 1800.]
The full title of this poem, in "Lyrical Ballads," 1800, is 'A Character, in the antithetical Manner'. It was omitted from all subsequent editions till 1837. With this early friend, Robert Jones--a fellow collegian at St. John's College, Cambridge--Wordsworth visited the Continent (France and Switzerland), during the long vacation of 1790; and to him he dedicated the first edition of 'Descriptive Sketches', in 1793. With him he also made a pedestrian tour in Wales in 1791. Jones afterwards became the incumbent of Soulderne, near Deddington, in Oxfordshire; and Wordsworth described his parsonage there in the sonnet, beginning "Where holy ground begins, unhallowed ends." (See Wordsworth's note to the sonnet 'Composed near Calais', p. 333.)--Ed.
* * * * *
INSCRIPTION FOR THE SPOT WHERE THE HERMITAGE STOOD ON ST. HERBERT'S ISLAND, DERWENT-WATER
Composed 1800.--Published 1800
Included in 1815 among the "Poems referring to the Period of Old Age," and in all subsequent editions among the "Inscriptions."--Ed.
If thou in the dear love of some one Friend Hast been so happy that thou know'st what thoughts Will sometimes in the happiness of love Make the heart sink, [A] then wilt thou reverence This quiet spot; and, Stranger! not unmoved 5 Wilt thou behold this shapeless heap of stones, The desolate ruins of St. Herbert's Cell. Here stood his threshold; here was spread the roof That sheltered him, a self-secluded Man, After long exercise in social cares 10 And offices humane, intent to adore The Deity, with undistracted mind, And meditate on everlasting things, In utter solitude.--But he had left A Fellow-labourer, whom the good Man loved 15 As his own soul. And, when with eye upraised To heaven he knelt before the crucifix, While o'er the lake the cataract of Lodore Pealed to his orisons, and when he paced Along the beach of this small isle and thought 20 Of his Companion, he would pray that both (Now that their earthly duties were fulfilled) Might die in the same moment. Nor in vain So prayed he:--as our chronicles report, Though here the Hermit numbered his last day 25 Far from St. Cuthbert his belovèd Friend, Those holy Men both died in the same hour. [1]
* * * * *
VARIANT ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1832.
The text of this poem underwent so many changes, which are not easily shown by the plan adopted throughout this edition--portions of the earliest version of 1800 being abandoned and again adopted, and the whole arrangement of the passages being altered--that it seems desirable to append the entire text of 1800, and extensive parts of that of subsequent years. The final text of 1832 is printed above.
If thou in the dear love of some one friend Hast been so happy, that thou know'st what thoughts Will, sometimes, in the happiness of love Make the heart sink, then wilt thou reverence This quiet spot.--St. Herbert hither came And here, for many seasons, from the world Remov'd, and the affections of the world He dwelt in solitude. He living here, This island's sole inhabitant! had left A Fellow-labourer, whom the good Man lov'd As his own soul; and when within his cave Alone he knelt before the crucifix While o'er the lake the cataract of Lodore Peal'd to his orisons, and when he pac'd Along the beach of this small isle and thought Of his Companion, he had pray'd that both Might die in the same moment. Nor in vain So pray'd he:--as our Chronicles report, Though here the Hermit number'd his last days, Far from St. Cuthbert his beloved friend, Those holy men both died in the same hour. 1800.
The text of the editions of 1802 and 1805 (which are identical), omits one line of the text of 1800. The passage reads:
He dwelt in solitude.--But he had left A Fellow-labourer, whom ...
And the following variants occur in 1802 and 1805:
Make the heart sick, ....
... he would pray that both
The text of 1815, which is continued in 1820, begins thus:
This Island, guarded from profane approach By mountains high and waters widely spread, Is that recess to which St. Herbert came In life's decline; a self-secluded Man, After long exercise in social cares And offices humane, intent to adore The Deity, with undistracted mind, And meditate on everlasting things. --Stranger! this shapeless heap of stones and earth (Long be its mossy covering undisturbed!) Is reverenced as a vestige of the Abode In which, through many seasons, from the world Removed, and the affections of the world, He dwelt in solitude.--But he had left A Fellow-labourer, ... 1815 and 1820.
In 1827 the poem began thus:
Stranger! this shapeless heap of stones and earth Is the last relic of St. Herbert's Cell. Here stood his threshold; here was spread the roof That sheltered him, a self-secluded Man, 1827.]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Compare the last stanza of "Strange fits of passion have I known," p. 79 of this volume.--Ed.]
The "shapeless heap of stones" in St. Herbert's Island, which were "desolate ruins" in 1800, are even more "shapeless" and "desolate" now, but they can easily be identified. The island is near the centre of the lake, and is in area about four acres. The legend of St. Herbert dates from the middle of the seventh century. The rector of Clifton, Westmoreland, Dr. Robinson, writing in 1819, says:
"The remains of his hermitage are still visible, being built of stone and mortar, and formed into two apartments, one of which, about twenty feet long and sixteen feet wide, seems to have been his chapel; the other, of less dimensions, his cell. Near these ruins the late Sir Wilfred Lawson (to whose representative the island at present belongs) erected some years ago a small octagonal cottage, which, being built of unhewn stone, and artificially mossed over, has a venerable appearance."
(See _Guide to the Lakes_, by John Robinson, D.D., 1819). This cottage has now disappeared. The following version of this "Inscription" occurs in a letter from Wordsworth to Lady Beaumont, dated 26th November 1811:
This Island, guarded from profane approach By mountains high and waters widely spread, Gave to St. Herbert a benign retreat. Upon a staff supported, and his Brow White with the peaceful diadem of age. Hither he came--a self-secluded Man, ... Behold that shapeless Heap of stones and earth! "Tis reverenced as a Vestige of the Abode ... ...--And when within his Cell Alone he knelt before the crucifix,
In a previous letter to Sir George Beaumont, dated 16th November 1811:
By mountains high and waters widely spread, Is that Seclusion which St. Herbert chose; ... Hither he came in life's austere decline: And, Stranger! this blank Heap of stones and earth Is reverenced ...
Ed.
* * * * *
WRITTEN WITH A PENCIL UPON A STONE IN THE WALL OF THE HOUSE (AN OUT-HOUSE), ON THE ISLAND AT GRASMERE [A]
Composed 1800.--Published 1800
Included among the "Inscriptions."--Ed.
Rude is this Edifice, and Thou hast seen Buildings, albeit rude, that have maintained Proportions more harmonious, and approached To closer fellowship with ideal grace. But take it in good part:--alas! the poor [1] 5 Vitruvius of our village had no help From the great City; never, upon leaves [2] Of red Morocco folio saw displayed, In long succession, pre-existing ghosts [3] Of Beauties yet unborn--the rustic Lodge 10 Antique, and Cottage with verandah graced, Nor lacking, for fit company, alcove, Green-house, shell-grot, and moss-lined hermitage. [4] Thou see'st a homely Pile, [5] yet to these walls The heifer comes in the snow-storm, and here 15 The new-dropped lamb finds shelter from the wind. And hither does one Poet sometimes row His pinnace, a small vagrant barge, up-piled With plenteous store of heath and withered fern, (A lading which he with his sickle cuts, 20 Among the mountains) and beneath this roof He makes his summer couch, and here at noon Spreads out his limbs, while, yet unshorn, the Sheep, Panting beneath the burthen of their wool, Lie round him, even as if they were a