part 1

, canto viii. stanza 2.--ED.]

[Footnote JO: "The pillars of the gateway in front of the mansion remained when we first took up our abode at Grasmere. Two or three cottages still remain which are called Nott Houses, from the name of the gentleman (I have called him a knight) concerning whom these traditions survive. He was the ancestor of the Knott family, formerly considerable proprietors in the district."--I. F.]

[Footnote JP: It is clear from the Fenwick note (see p. 13) that the title, "Sir Alfred Irthing," was Wordsworth's invention. I am indebted to the Rector of Grasmere--the Rev. Henry M. Fletcher--for the following information as to the bells of the church, and to the "Nott house":--

"Three bells hang in the tower. That they are 'clear-sounding and harmonious' I think may be said of them without poetical license. They have not on them the name and title of their donor. Two of them have coats of arms. My son believes that the quarterings show that they were the gifts of the Flemings of Rydal Hall, patrons, for some hundred years, of the living. The third, and smallest, reports of itself that it was recast at the expense of Mrs. Dorothy Knott, in the year 1808, and that Thomas Mears of London did the work. This last inscription is partly in Latin. The two older bells have on them the inscriptions respectively of 'Soli Deo' and 'Gloria in altissimis Deo.'

"Looking over the old book of Church Warden's accounts, I observe that, in the year 1732, there is an item

'Towards casting the bells, and other charges, £40, 3s. 9d.,'

and in the following year, 1733, again

'Towards casting the bells, and other charges, £49, 0s. 3d.'

This, at a time when the whole of the general charge yearly ranged from £2 to £5. It was a re-casting, I presume.

"The 'Nott house' still exists, and is the residence of our chief 'statesman,' James Fleming. It is known as 'Knott's Houses.' In the dialect of this county, when purely used, there is no possessive 's. Mr. Fletcher's letters being always, _e.g._, spoken of at the post-office here as 'Mr. Fletcher letters.' 'Nott house,' therefore, meant a house belonging to Mrs. Dorothy Knott, or her husband's forefathers. A little group of houses has formed round it; but the old Farm House, I make little doubt, is the one for which you ask."

See also Charles Lamb's remarks in his third letter to Wordsworth about _The Excursion_, written in 1814.]

[Footnote JQ: See Wordsworth's note, p. 389.--ED.]

Book Eighth

THE PARSONAGE

ARGUMENT

_Pastor's apology and apprehensions[726] that he might have detained his Auditors too long, with the Pastor's invitation to his house_[727]--_Solitary disinclined to comply--rallies the Wanderer--and playfully_[728] _draws a comparison between his itinerant profession and that of the Knight-errant--which leads to Wanderer's giving an account of changes in the Country from the manufacturing spirit--Favourable effects--The other side of the picture, and chiefly as it has affected the humbler classes--Wanderer asserts the hollowness of all national grandeur if unsupported by moral worth_[729]--_Physical science unable to support itself--Lamentations over an excess of manufacturing industry among the humbler Classes of Society--Picture of a Child employed in a Cotton-mill--Ignorance and degradation of Children among the agricultural Population reviewed--Conversation broken off by a renewed Invitation from the Pastor--Path leading to his House--Its appearance described--His Daughter--His Wife--His Son (a Boy) enters with his Companion--Their happy appearance--The Wanderer how affected by the sight of them._

The pensive Sceptic of the lonely vale To those acknowledgments subscribed his own, With a sedate compliance, which the Priest Failed not to notice, inly pleased, and said:-- "If ye, by whom invited I began 5 These narratives[730] of calm and humble life, Be satisfied, 'tis well,--the end is gained; And in return for sympathy bestowed And patient listening, thanks accept from me. --Life, death, eternity! momentous themes 10 Are they[731]--and might demand a seraph's tongue, Were they not equal to their own support; And therefore no incompetence of mine Could do them wrong. The universal forms Of human nature, in a spot like this, 15 Present themselves at once to all men's view: Ye wished for act and circumstance, that make The individual known and understood; And such as my best judgment could select From what the place afforded, have been given; 20 Though apprehensions crossed me that my zeal To his might well be likened, who unlocks A cabinet stored with gems and pictures--draws His treasures forth, soliciting regard[732] To this, and this, as worthier than the last, 25 Till the spectator, who awhile was pleased 25 More than the exhibitor himself, becomes Weary and faint, and longs to be released. --But let us hence! my dwelling is in sight, And there--" At this the Solitary shrunk 30 With backward will; but, wanting not address That inward motion to disguise, he said To his Compatriot, smiling as he spake; --"The peaceable remains of this good Knight Would be disturbed, I fear, with wrathful scorn, 35 If consciousness could reach him where he lies That one, albeit of these degenerate times, Deploring changes past, or dreading change Foreseen, had dared to couple, even in thought, The fine vocation of the sword and lance 40 With the gross aims and body-bending toil Of a poor brotherhood who walk the earth Pitied, and, where they are not known, despised.

"Yet, by the good Knight's leave, the two estates Are graced with some resemblance. Errant those, 45 Exiles and wanderers--and the like are these; Who, with their burthen, traverse hill and dale, Carrying relief for nature's simple wants. --What though no higher recompense be sought[733] Than honest maintenance, by irksome toil 50 Full oft procured, yet may they[734] claim respect, Among the intelligent, for what this course Enables them to be and to perform. Their tardy steps give leisure to observe, While solitude permits the mind to feel; 55 Instructs, and prompts her[735] to supply defects By the division of her inward self For grateful converse: and to these poor men Nature (I but repeat your favourite boast) Is bountiful--go wheresoe'er they may;[736] 60 Kind nature's various wealth is all their own. Versed in the characters of men; and bound, By ties[737] of daily interest, to maintain Conciliatory manners and smooth speech; Such have been, and still are in their degree, 65 Examples efficacious to refine Rude intercourse; apt agents to expel,[738] By importation of unlooked-for arts, Barbarian torpor, and blind prejudice; Raising, through just gradation, savage life 70 To rustic, and the rustic to urbane. --Within their moving magazines is lodged Power that comes forth to quicken and exalt Affections[739] seated in the mother's breast, And in the lover's fancy; and to feed 75 The sober sympathies of long-tried friends. --By these Itinerants, as experienced men, Counsel is given; contention they appease With gentle language; in remotest wilds,[740] Tears wipe away, and pleasant tidings bring; 80 Could the proud quest of chivalry do more?"

"Happy," rejoined the Wanderer, "they who gain A panegyric from your generous tongue! But, if to these Wayfarers once pertained Aught of romantic interest, it is gone.[741] 85 Their purer service, in this realm at least, Is past for ever.--An inventive Age Has wrought, if not with speed of magic, yet To most strange issues. I have lived to mark A new and unforeseen creation rise 90 From out the labours of a peaceful Land Wielding her potent enginery to frame And to produce, with appetite as keen As that of war, which rests not night or day, Industrious to destroy![JR] With fruitless pains 95 Might one like me _now_ visit many a tract Which, in his youth, he trod, and trod again, A lone pedestrian with a scanty freight,[JS] Wished-for, or welcome, wheresoe'er he came-- Among the tenantry of thorpe and vill;[JT] 100 Or straggling burgh, of ancient charter proud, And dignified by battlements and towers Of some stern castle, mouldering on the brow Of a green hill or bank of rugged stream.[JU] The foot-path faintly marked, the horse-track wild, 105 And formidable length of plashy lane, (Prized avenues ere others had been shaped Or easier links connecting place with place) Have vanished--swallowed up by stately roads Easy and bold, that penetrate the gloom 110 Of Britain's[742] farthest glens. The Earth has lent Her waters, Air her breezes;[JV] and the sail Of traffic glides with ceaseless intercourse,[743][JW] Glistening along the low and woody dale; Or, in its progress, on the lofty side, 115 Of some bare hill, with wonder kenned from far.[744][JX]

"Meanwhile, at social Industry's command, How quick, how vast an increase! From the germ Of some poor hamlet, rapidly produced Here a huge town, continuous and compact, 120 Hiding the face of earth for leagues--and there, Where not a habitation stood before, Abodes[745] of men irregularly massed Like trees in forests,--spread through spacious tracts, O'er which the smoke of unremitting fires 125 Hangs permanent,[JY] and plentiful as wreaths Of vapour glittering in the morning sun. And, wheresoe'er the traveller turns his steps, He sees the barren wilderness erased, Or disappearing; triumph that proclaims 130 How much the mild Directress of the plough Owes to alliance with these new-born arts! --Hence is the wide sea peopled,--hence[746] the shores Of Britain are resorted to by ships Freighted from every climate of the world 135 With the world's choicest produce. Hence that sum Of keels that rest within her crowded ports, Or ride at anchor in her sounds and bays; That animating spectacle of sails That,[747] through her inland regions, to and fro 140 Pass with the respirations of the tide, Perpetual, multitudinous! Finally, Hence a dread arm of floating power, a voice Of thunder daunting those who would approach With hostile purposes the blessed Isle, 145 Truth's consecrated residence, the seat Impregnable of Liberty and Peace.

"And yet, O happy Pastor of a flock Faithfully watched, and, by that loving care And Heaven's good providence, preserved from taint! With you I grieve, when on the darker side 151 Of this great change I look; and there behold Such outrage[748] done to nature as compels The indignant power to justify herself; Yea, to avenge her violated rights, 155 For England's bane.--When soothing darkness spreads O'er hill and vale," the Wanderer thus expressed His recollections, "and the punctual stars, While all things else are gathering to their homes, Advance, and in the firmament of heaven 160 Glitter--but undisturbing, undisturbed; As if their silent company were charged With peaceful admonitions for the heart Of all-beholding Man, earth's thoughtful lord; Then, in full many a region, once like this 165 The assured domain of calm simplicity And pensive quiet, an unnatural light Prepared for never-resting Labour's eyes Breaks from a many-windowed fabric huge;[JZ] And at the appointed hour a bell is heard, 170 Of harsher import than the curfew-knoll That spake the Norman Conqueror's stern behest--[KA] A local summons to unceasing toil! Disgorged are now the ministers of day; And, as they issue from the illumined pile, 175 A fresh band meets them, at the crowded door-- And in the courts--and where the rumbling stream, That turns the multitude of dizzy wheels,[KB] Glares, like a troubled spirit, in its bed Among the rocks below. Men, maidens, youths, 180 Mother and little children, boys and girls, Enter, and each the wonted task resumes Within this temple, where is offered up To Gain, the master idol of the realm, Perpetual sacrifice. Even thus of old 185 Our ancestors, within the still domain Of vast cathedral or conventual church, Their vigils kept; where tapers day and night On the dim altar burned continually, In token that the House was evermore 190 Watching to God. Religious men were they; Nor would their reason, tutored to aspire Above this transitory world, allow That there should pass a moment of the year,[749] When in their land the Almighty's service ceased. 195

"Triumph who will in these profaner rites Which we, a generation self-extolled, As zealously perform! I cannot share His proud complacency:--yet do I exult,[750] Casting reserve away, exult to see 200 An intellectual mastery exercised O'er the blind elements; a purpose given, A perseverance fed; almost a soul Imparted--to brute matter. I rejoice, Measuring the force of those gigantic powers 205 That,[751] by the thinking mind, have been compelled To serve the will of feeble-bodied Man. For with the sense of admiration blends The animating hope that time may come When, strengthened, yet not dazzled, by the might 210 Of this dominion over nature gained, Men of all lands shall exercise the same In due proportion to their country's need; Learning, though late, that all true glory rests, All praise, all safety, and all happiness, 215 Upon the moral law. Egyptian Thebes, Tyre, by the margin of the sounding waves, Palmyra, central in the desert, fell; And the Arts died by which they had been raised.[KC] --Call Archimedes from his buried tomb 220 Upon the grave[752] of vanished Syracuse,[KD] And feelingly the Sage shall make report How insecure, how baseless in itself, Is the Philosophy whose sway depends On[753] mere material instruments;--how weak 225 Those arts, and high inventions, if unpropped By virtue.--He, sighing with pensive grief,[754] Amid his calm abstractions, would admit That not the slender privilege is theirs To save themselves from blank forgetfulness!" 230

When from the Wanderer's lips these words had fallen, I said, "And, did in truth those vaunted Arts[755] Possess such privilege, how could we escape Sadness and keen regret, we who revere,[756] And would preserve as things above all price, 235 The old domestic morals of the land, Her simple manners, and the stable worth That dignified and cheered a low estate? Oh! where is now the character of peace, Sobriety, and order, and chaste love, 240 And honest dealing, and untainted speech, And pure good-will, and hospitable cheer; That made the very thought of country-life A thought of refuge, for a mind detained Reluctantly amid the bustling crowd? 245 Where now the beauty of the sabbath kept With conscientious reverence, as a day By the almighty Lawgiver pronounced Holy and blest? and where the winning grace Of all the lighter ornaments attached 250 To time and season, as the year rolled round?"

"Fled!" was the Wanderer's passionate response, "Fled utterly! or only to be traced In a few fortunate retreats like this; Which I behold with trembling, when I think 255 What lamentable change, a year--a month-- May bring; that brook converting as it runs Into an instrument of deadly bane For those, who, yet untempted to forsake The simple occupations of their sires, 260 Drink the pure water of its innocent stream With lip almost as pure.--Domestic bliss (Or call it comfort, by a humbler name,) How art thou blighted for the poor Man's heart! Lo! in such neighbourhood, from morn to eve, 265 The habitations empty! or perchance The Mother left alone,--no helping hand To rock the cradle of her peevish babe; No daughters round her, busy at the wheel, Or in dispatch of each day's little growth 270 Of household occupation; no nice arts Of needle-work; no bustle at the fire, Where once the dinner was prepared with pride; Nothing to speed the day, or cheer the mind; Nothing to praise, to teach, or to command! 275

"The Father, if perchance he still retain His old employments, goes to field or wood, No longer led or followed by the[757] Sons; Idlers perchance they were,--but in _his_ sight; Breathing fresh air, and treading the green earth; 280 'Till their short holiday of childhood ceased, Ne'er to return! That birthright now is lost. Economists will tell you that the State Thrives by the forfeiture--unfeeling thought, And false as monstrous! Can the mother thrive 285 By the destruction of her innocent sons In whom a premature necessity Blocks out the forms of nature, preconsumes The reason, famishes the heart, shuts up The infant Being in itself, and makes 290 Its very spring a season of decay! The lot is wretched, the condition sad, Whether a pining discontent survive, And thirst for change; or habit hath subdued The soul deprest, dejected--even to love 295 Of her close tasks, and long captivity.[758]

Oh, banish far such wisdom as condemns A native Briton to these inward chains, Fixed in his soul, so early and so deep; Without his own consent, or knowledge, fixed! 300 He is a slave to whom release comes not, And cannot come. The boy, where'er he turns, Is still a prisoner; when the wind is up Among the clouds, and roars through the ancient woods;[759] Or when the sun is shining in the east,[760] 305 Quiet and calm. Behold him--in the school Of his attainments? no; but with the air Fanning his temples under heaven's blue arch. His raiment, whitened o'er with cotton-flakes Or locks of wool, announces whence he comes. 310 Creeping his gait and cowering, his lip pale, His respiration quick and audible; And scarcely could you fancy that a gleam Could break from out those languid eyes, or a blush[761] Mantle upon his cheek. Is this the form, 315 Is that the countenance, and such the port, Of no mean Being? One who should be clothed With dignity befitting his proud hope; Who, in his very childhood, should appear Sublime from present purity and joy! 320 The limbs increase; but liberty of mind Is gone for ever; and this organic frame, So joyful in its motions, is become[762] Dull, to the joy of her own motions dead; And even the touch, so exquisitely poured 325 Through the whole body, with a languid will Performs its[763] functions; rarely competent To impress a vivid feeling on the mind Of what there is delightful in the breeze, The gentle visitations of the sun, 330 Or lapse of liquid element--by hand, Or foot, or lip, in summer's warmth--perceived. --Can hope look forward to a manhood raised On such foundations?" "Hope is none for him!" The pale Recluse indignantly exclaimed, 335 "And tens of thousands suffer wrong as deep. Yet be it asked, in justice to our age, If there were not, before those arts appeared, These structures rose, commingling old and young, And unripe sex with sex, for mutual taint; 340 If there were not, _then_[764] in our far-famed Isle, Multitudes, who from infancy had breathed Air unimprisoned, and had lived at large; Yet walked beneath the sun, in human shape, As abject, as degraded? At this day, 345 Who shall enumerate the crazy huts And tottering hovels, whence do issue forth A ragged Offspring, with their upright hair[765] Crowned like the image of fantastic Fear; Or wearing, (shall we say?)[766] in that white growth 350 An ill-adjusted turban, for defence Or fierceness, wreathed around their sun-burnt brows, By savage Nature? Shrivelled are their lips;[767] Naked, and coloured like the soil, the feet On which they stand; as if thereby they drew 355 Some nourishment, as trees do by their roots, From earth, the common mother of us all. Figure and mien, complexion and attire, Are leagued to strike dismay; but outstretched hand[768] And whining voice denote them supplicants 360 For the least boon that pity can bestow. Such on the breast of darksome heaths are found; And with their parents occupy[769] the skirts Of furze-clad commons; such are born and reared At the mine's mouth under[770] impending rocks; 365 Or dwell in chambers of some natural cave; Or[771] where their ancestors erected huts, For the convenience of unlawful gain, In forest purlieus; and the like are bred, All England through, where nooks and slips of ground Purloined, in times less jealous than our own, 371 From the green margin of the public way, A residence afford them, 'mid the bloom And gaiety of cultivated fields. Such (we will hope the lowest in the scale) 375 Do I remember oft-times to have seen 'Mid Buxton's dreary heights.[KE] In earnest watch,[772] Till the swift vehicle approach, they stand; Then, following closely with the cloud of dust, An uncouth feat exhibit, and are gone 380 Heels over head, like tumblers on a stage. --Up from the ground they snatch the copper coin, And, on the freight of merry passengers Fixing a steady eye, maintain their speed; And spin--and pant--and overhead again, 385 Wild pursuivants! until their breath is lost, Or bounty tires--and every face, that smiled Encouragement, hath ceased to look that way. --But, like the vagrants of the gipsy tribe, These, bred to little pleasure in themselves, 390 Are profitless to others. "Turn we then To Britons born and bred within the pale Of civil polity, and early trained To earn, by wholesome labour in the field, The bread they eat. A sample should I give 395 Of what this stock hath long produced to enrich The tender age of life, ye would exclaim,[773] 'Is this the whistling plough-boy whose shrill notes Impart new gladness to the morning air!' Forgive me if I venture to suspect 400 That many, sweet to hear of in soft verse, Are of no finer frame. Stiff are his joints;[774] Beneath a cumbrous frock, that to the knees Invests the thriving churl, his legs appear, Fellows to those that[775] lustily upheld 405 The wooden stools for everlasting use, Whereon[776] our fathers sate. And mark his brow! Under whose shaggy canopy are set Two eyes--not dim, but of a healthy[777] stare-- Wide, sluggish, blank, and ignorant, and strange-- Proclaiming boldly that they never drew 411 A look or motion of intelligence From infant-conning of the Christ-cross-row,[KF] Or puzzling through a primer, line by line, Till perfect mastery crown the pains at last. 415 --What kindly warmth from touch of fostering hand, What penetrating power of sun or breeze, Shall e'er dissolve the crust wherein his soul Sleeps, like a caterpillar sheathed in ice? This torpor is no pitiable work 420 Of modern ingenuity; no town Nor crowded city can[778] be taxed with aught Of sottish vice or desperate breach of law, To which (and who can tell where or how soon?) He may be roused. This Boy the fields produce: 425 His spade and hoe, mattock and glittering scythe,[779] The carter's whip that[780] on his shoulder rests In air high-towering with a boorish pomp, The sceptre of his sway; his country's name, Her equal rights, her churches and her schools-- 430 What have they done for him? And, let me ask, For tens of thousands uninformed as he? In brief, what liberty of _mind_[781] is here?"

This ardent[782] sally pleased the mild good Man, To whom the appeal couched in its[783] closing words 435 Was pointedly addressed; and to the thoughts That,[784] in assent or opposition, rose Within his mind, he seemed prepared to give Prompt utterance; but the Vicar interposed[785] With invitation urgently[786] renewed. 440 --We followed, taking as he led, a path Along a hedge of hollies dark and tall,[787][KG] Whose flexile boughs low bending with a weight[788] Of leafy spray, concealed the stems and roots That gave them nourishment. When frosty winds 445 Howl from the north, what kindly warmth, methought, Is here--how grateful this impervious screen![789] --Not shaped by simple wearing of the foot On rural business passing to and fro Was the commodious walk: a careful hand 450 Had marked the line, and strewn its[790] surface o'er With pure cerulean gravel,[KH] from the heights Fetched by a[791] neighbouring brook.--Across the vale The stately fence accompanied our steps; And thus the pathway, by perennial green 455 Guarded and graced, seemed fashioned to unite, As by a beautiful yet solemn chain, The Pastor's mansion with the house of prayer.

Like image of solemnity, conjoined With feminine allurement soft and fair, 460 The mansion's self displayed;--a reverend pile With bold projections and recesses deep; Shadowy, yet gay and lightsome as it stood Fronting the noontide sun. We paused to admire The pillared porch, elaborately embossed; 465 The low wide windows with their mullions old; The cornice, richly fretted, of grey stone; And that smooth slope from which the dwelling rose, By beds and banks Arcadian of gay flowers And flowering shrubs, protected and adorned: 470 Profusion bright! and every flower assuming A more than natural vividness of hue, From unaffected contrast with the gloom Of sober cypress, and the darker foil Of yew, in which survived some traces, here 475 Not unbecoming, of grotesque device And uncouth fancy. From behind the roof Rose the slim ash and massy sycamore, Blending their diverse foliage with the green Of ivy, flourishing and thick, that clasped 480 The huge round chimneys, harbour of delight For wren and redbreast,--where they sit and sing Their slender ditties when the trees are bare. Nor must I leave untouched (the picture else Were incomplete) a relique of old times[792] 485 Happily spared, a little Gothic niche Of nicest workmanship; that[793] once had held The sculptured image of some patron-saint, Or of the blessed Virgin, looking down On all who entered those religious doors. 490

But lo! where from the cocky garden-mount Crowned by its antique summer-house--descends, Light as the silver fawn, a radiant Girl; For she hath recognised her honoured friend, The Wanderer ever welcome! A prompt kiss 495 The gladsome Child bestows at his request; And, up the flowery lawn as we advance, Hangs on the old Man with a happy look, And with a pretty restless hand of love. --We enter--by the Lady of the place 500 Cordially greeted. Graceful was her port:[794] A lofty stature undepressed by time, Whose visitation had not wholly spared[795] The finer lineaments of form[796] and face; To that complexion brought which prudence trusts in And wisdom loves.--But when a stately ship 506 Sails in smooth weather by the placid coast[KI] On homeward voyage, what--if wind and wave, And hardship undergone in various climes, Have caused her to abate the virgin pride, 510 And that full trim of inexperienced hope With which she left her haven--not for this, Should the sun strike her, and the impartial breeze Play on her streamers, fails she[797] to assume Brightness and touching beauty of her own, 515 That charm all eyes. So bright, so fair, appeared[798] This goodly Matron, shining in the beams Of unexpected pleasure.--Soon the board Was spread, and we partook a plain repast.

Here, resting in cool shelter, we beguiled[799] 520 The mid-day hours with desultory talk; From trivial themes to general argument Passing, as accident or fancy led, Or courtesy prescribed. While question rose And answer flowed, the fetters of reserve 525 Dropping from every mind, the Solitary[800] Resumed the manners of his happier days; And[801] in the various conversation bore A willing, nay,[802] at times, a forward part; Yet with the grace of one who in the world 530 Had learned the art of pleasing, and had now Occasion given him to display his skill, Upon the stedfast 'vantage-ground of truth. He gazed, with admiration unsuppressed, Upon the landscape of the sun-bright vale, 535 Seen, from the shady room in which we sate, In softened pérspective; and more than once Praised the consummate harmony serene Of gravity and elegance, diffused Around the mansion and its whole domain; 540 Not, doubtless, without help of female taste And female care.--"A blessed lot is yours!" The words escaped his lip, with a tender sigh Breathed over them: but suddenly the door Flew open, and a pair of lusty Boys[803] 545 Appeared, confusion checking their delight. --Not brothers they in feature or attire, But fond companions, so I guessed, in field, And by the river's margin--whence they come, Keen anglers with unusual spoil elated.[804] 550 One bears a willow-pannier on his back, The boy of plainer garb, whose blush survives More deeply tinged. Twin might the other be To that fair girl who from the garden-mount Bounded:--triumphant entry this for him![805] 555 Between his hands he holds a smooth blue stone, On whose capacious surface see[806] outspread Large store of gleaming crimson-spotted trouts; Ranged side by side, and lessening by degrees[807] Up to the dwarf that tops the pinnacle. 560 Upon the board he lays the sky-blue stone With its rich freight;[808] their number he proclaims; Tells from what pool the noblest had been dragged; And where the very monarch of the brook, After long struggle, had escaped at last-- 565 Stealing alternately at them and us (As doth his comrade too) a look of pride: And, verily, the silent creatures made A splendid sight, together thus exposed; Dead--but not sullied or deformed by death, 570 That seemed to pity what he could not spare.

But O, the animation in the mien Of those two boys! yea in the very words With which the young narrator was inspired, When, as our questions led, he told at large 575 Of that day's prowess! Him might I compare, His looks,[809] tones, gestures, eager eloquence, To a bold brook that[810] splits for better speed, And at the self-same moment, works its way Through many channels, ever and anon 580 Parted and re-united: his compeer To the still lake, whose stillness is to sight[811] As beautiful--as grateful to the mind. --But to what object shall the lovely Girl Be likened? She whose countenance and air 585 Unite the graceful qualities of both, Even as she shares the pride and joy of both.

My grey-haired Friend was moved; his vivid eye Glistened with tenderness; his mind, I knew, Was full; and had, I doubted not, returned, 590 Upon this impulse, to the theme--erewhile Abruptly broken off. The ruddy boys Withdrew, on summons to their well-earned meal;[812] And He--to whom all tongues resigned their rights With willingness, to whom the general ear 595 Listened with readier patience than to strain Of music, lute or harp, a long delight That ceased not when his voice had ceased--as One Who from truth's central point serenely views The compass of his argument--began 600 Mildly, and with a clear and steady tone.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 726: 1836.

_Pastor's apprehensions_ 1814. ]

[Footnote 727: 1836.

_too long--Invitation to his House--_ 1814. ]

[Footnote 728: 1836.

_and somewhat playfully_ 1814. ]

[Footnote 729: 1836.

_by moral worth--gives Instances--_ 1814. ]

[Footnote 730: 1836.

... I commenced Those Narratives ... 1814.

These ... 1827. ]

[Footnote 731: 1827.

Are these-- ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 732: 1836.

Though apprehensions crossed me, in the course Of this self-pleasing exercise, that Ye My zeal to his would liken, who, possessed Of some rare gems, or pictures finely wrought, Unlocks his Cabinet, and draws them forth One after one,--soliciting regard 1814.

My zeal to his would liken, who unlocks A Cabinet with gems or pictures stored, And draws them forth--soliciting regard 1827.

Though apprehensions crossed me that my zeal To his might well be likened, who unlocks A Cabinet with gems or pictures stored, And draws them forth--soliciting regard 1832. ]

[Footnote 733: 1836.

... they seek 1814. ]

[Footnote 734: 1836.

... procured! Yet Such may ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 735: 1827.

And doth instruct her ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 736: 1836.

(As I have heard you boast with honest pride) Nature is bountiful, where'er they go; 1814. ]

[Footnote 737: 1832.

By tie ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 738: 1827.

... instruments to excite, 1814. ]

[Footnote 739: 1827.

The affections ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 740: 1827.

With healing words; and in remotest Wilds 1814. ]

[Footnote 741: 1836.

... 'tis gone. 1814. ]

[Footnote 742: 1827.

Of England's ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 743: 1836.

... interchange, 1814. ]

[Footnote 744: 1836.

... woody dale, Or on the naked mountain's lofty side. 1814. ]

[Footnote 745: 1827.

The abodes ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 746: 1827.

... and ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 747: 1836.

Which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 748: 1827.

... and there behold, Through strong temptation of those gainful Arts, Such outrage ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 749: 1814.

A single moment through the year should pass C.

That even a moment of the year should pass C. ]

[Footnote 750: 1836.

... yet I exult, 1814. ]

[Footnote 751: 1827.

Which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 752: 1836.

Upon the plain ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 753: 1827.

Is that Philosophy, whose sway is framed For ... 1814.

Is the Philosophy, that only rules Over ... MS. ]

[Footnote 754: 1845.

... He with sighs of pensive grief, 1814. ]

[Footnote 755: 1836.

... these vaunted Arts 1814. ]

[Footnote 756: 1836.

Regret and painful sadness, who revere, 1814. ]

[Footnote 757: 1820.

... his 1814. ]

[Footnote 758: 1836.

Of her dull tasks, and close captivity. 1814. ]

[Footnote 759: 1836.

... and in the ancient woods; 1814. ]

[Footnote 760: 1827.

... is rising in the heavens, 1814. ]

[Footnote 761: 1836.

From out those languid eyes could break, or blush 1814. ]

[Footnote 762: 1845.

Thus gone for ever, this organic Frame, Which from heaven's bounty we receive, instinct With light, and gladsome motions, soon becomes 1814.

Is gone for ever; this organic Frame, So joyful in her motions, is become 1827.

The limbs increase; but this organic Frame, So gladsome in its motions, is become 1836. ]

[Footnote 763: 1814.

... her ... 1827.

The text of 1836 returns to that of 1814.]

[Footnote 764: 1836.

Then, if there were not, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 765: 1836.

... with their own blanched hair 1814. ]

[Footnote 766: 1836.

Or wearing, we might say, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 767: 1836.

By savage Nature's unassisted care. 1814. ]

[Footnote 768: 1827.

Are framed to strike dismay; but the outstretched hand 1814. ]

[Footnote 769: 1836.

... dwell upon ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 770: 1836.

... and are born and reared At the mine's mouth, beneath ... 1814.

... such are born and reared At the mine's mouth, beneath ... 1827. ]

[Footnote 771: 1836.

Or in the chambers of some natural cave; And ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 772: 1836.

... Upon the watch, 1814. ]

[Footnote 773: 1836.

Of what this stock produces to enrich And beautify the tender age of life, A sample fairly culled, ye would exclaim, 1814.

Of what this stock produces to enrich The tender age of life, ye would exclaim, 1827. ]

[Footnote 774: 1836.

... frame:--his joints are stiff; 1814. ]

[Footnote 775: 1827.

... which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 776: 1827.

On which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 777: 1814.

... vacant ... C. ]

[Footnote 778: 1836.

... may ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 779: 1836.

To which in after years he may be rouzed. --This Boy the Fields produce: his spade and hoe, 1814. ]

[Footnote 780: 1827.

... which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 781: Italics were first used in 1836.]

[Footnote 782: 1827.

... cheerful ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 783: 1827.

... those ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 784: 1827.

Which, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 785: 1836.

Prompt utterance; but, rising from our seat, The hospitable Vicar interposed 1814. ]

[Footnote 786: 1827.

... earnestly ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 787: 1827.

... of stately hollies framed, 1814. ]

[Footnote 788: 1836.

Whose flexile boughs, descending with a weight 1814. ]

[Footnote 789: 1827.

That gave them nourishment. How sweet methought, When the fierce wind comes howling from the north, How grateful, this impenetrable screen! 1814. ]

[Footnote 790: 1836.

... the ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 791: 1836.

... the ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 792: 1827.

Nor must I pass unnoticed (leaving else The picture incomplete, as it appeared Before our eyes) a relique of old times 1814. ]

[Footnote 793: 1827.

... which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 794: 1827.

--We enter;--need I tell the courteous guise In which the Lady of the place received Our little Band, with salutation meet To each accorded? Graceful was her port; 1814. ]

[Footnote 795: 1827.

... had not spared to touch 1814.

Whose gentle visitation had not spared MS. ]

[Footnote 796: 1827.

... frame ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 797: 1827.

... doth she fail ... 1827. ]

[Footnote 798: 1827.

... So bright to us appeared 1814. ]

[Footnote 799: 1827.

Here in cool shelter, while the scorching heat Oppressed the fields, we sate, and entertained 1814. ]

[Footnote 800: 1827.

Dropped from our minds; and even the shy Recluse 1814. ]

[Footnote 801: 1827.

He ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 802: 1827.

... and, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 803: 1827.

He said, and with that exclamation breathed A tender sigh;--but, suddenly the door Opening, with eager haste two lusty Boys 1814.

... breathed A sigh;--but, suddenly, two lusty boys Appeared,-- ... MS. ]

[Footnote 804: 1836.

And by the river-side--from which they come, A pair of Anglers, laden with their spoil. 1814.

And by the river's margin--whence they come, Anglers elated with unusual spoil. 1827.

... come A pair of anglers, laden with fresh spoil. MS. ]

[Footnote 805: 1827.

The Boy of plainer garb, and more abashed In countenance,--more distant and retired. Twin might the Other be to that fair Girl Who bounded tow'rds us from the garden mount. Triumphant entry this to him!--for see, 1814.

The Boy of plainer garb, and more abashed In countenance, twin might the other be MS. ]

[Footnote 806: 1827.

... is ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 807: 1827.

Ranged side by side, in regular ascent, One after one, still lessening by degrees 1814. ]

[Footnote 808: 1827.

... spoil;-- ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 809: 1836.

... look, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 810: 1827.

... which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 811: 1827.

... to the eye 1814. ]

[Footnote 812: 1827.

Did now withdraw to take their well-earned meal; 1814. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote JR: "What follows in the discourse of the Wanderer, upon the changes he had witnessed in rural life by the introduction of machinery, is truly described from what I myself saw during my boyhood and early youth, and from what was often told me by persons of this humble calling. Happily, most happily, for these mountains, the mischief was diverted from the banks of their beautiful streams, and transferred to open and flat counties abounding in coal, where the agency of steam was found much more effectual for carrying on those demoralising works. Had it not been for this invention, long before the present time, every torrent and river in this district would have had its factory, large and populous in proportion to the power of the water that could there be commanded. Parliament has interfered to prevent the night-work which was carried on in these mills as actively as during the day-time, and by necessity, still more perniciously; a sad disgrace to the proprietors and to the nation which could so long tolerate such unnatural proceedings."--I. F.]

[Footnote JS: In 1788, and again in 1794, Wordsworth visited Westmoreland and Cumberland as a pedestrian. Compare the sixth book of _The Prelude_, entitled "Cambridge and the Alps" (vol. iii. p. 228).--ED.]

[Footnote JV: See Wordsworth's note, p. 390.--ED.]

[Footnote JT: Thorpe; Anglo-Saxon _Thorp_, a homestead, or hamlet; allied to _turba_, a crowd (as of houses). Vill; a little village or farm. Lat. _villa_, dimin. of _vicus_.--ED.]

[Footnote JU: Evidently a reminiscence of Penrith, a "straggling burgh, of ancient charter proud," with its castle on "the brow of a green hill," and with Brougham Castle close at hand, on "bank of rugged stream." See _The Prelude_ (vol. iii. p. 229), and compare Gray's Journal.--ED.]

[Footnote JW: Mr. Rawnsley has suggested that this may refer to the introduction of canal boats into England. It is more likely, I think, that Wordsworth had in his mind's eye

That animating spectacle of sails That, through her inland regions, to and fro Pass with the respirations of the tide, Perpetual, multitudinous!

referred to in pp. 332-33, a reminiscence perhaps of what he had often seen in the Bristol Channel.--ED.]

[Footnote JX: See last note. The phrase "_on_ the lofty side of some bare hill," occasions some difficulty; and, taken in connection with the previous clause, "air has lent her breezes," suggests the idea of a windmill, seen in its slow movement, far off on a bare hill-side. But I rather think it is the progress of the "sails of traffic" on the waters of an inland tidal channel that is still referred to; the masts and sails of the vessels being seen moving onwards, while the water itself is hidden, and the spectacle is therefore by the rustic eye, "with wonder kenned from far." I would be disposed to think that there was a misprint here, and that we should read "_from_ the lofty side" instead of "on," did the latter reading not occur in the edition of 1814, as well as in 1836, and all the subsequent editions.--ED.]

[Footnote JY: Birmingham, Leeds, Sheffield.--ED.]

[Footnote JZ: See the Fenwick note, p. 330.--ED.]

[Footnote KA: The curfew-bell, introduced into England by William of Normandy, in 1068.--ED.]

[Footnote KB: Compare Mrs. Browning's _Cry of the Children_, stanza vii.--ED.]

[Footnote KC: The foundation of Thebes was ascribed to the mythical Manes. The ground on which it stood was large enough to contain a city equal in extent with ancient Rome, or modern Paris; ... an immense area was covered with Temples, and their avenues of Sphinxes. (Cf. Diodorus, i. 40, 50. Strabo, xvii. pp. 805, 815 fol., and Smith's _Dictionary of Ancient Geography_.) _Tyre_, in Phœnicia, was built partly on an island and partly on the mainland. The island city "must have arisen in the period between Nebuchadnezzar and Alexander the Great."... "The western side of the island is now submerged, to the extent of more than a mile; and that this was once occupied by the city is shewn by the bases of columns which may still be discerned. Benjamin of Tudela mentions that, in the end of the twelfth century, towns, markets, streets, and halls might be observed at the bottom of the sea." (Smith's _Dict. of Ancient Geography._) Palmyra, or Tadmor,--the city of palms,--was enlarged, if not built, by Solomon in the tenth century B.C. It is situated in a well-watered oasis, in the great Syrian desert. It was an independent city under the first Roman Emperors, and is called a _colonia_ on the coins of Caracalla. In 273 A.D. it had dwindled into an insignificant town. The ruins are inferior to those of Baalbec, but have a grandeur of their own. They are chiefly of the Corinthian order; although the most magnificent of them--_the Temple of the Sun_--is Ionic.--ED.]

[Footnote KD: I am indebted to the Rev. H. G. Woods, President of Trinity College, Oxford, for the following note on the tomb of Archimedes:--

"The tomb now shown at Syracuse as that of Archimedes corresponds pretty well in point of situation with Cicero's description ('Tusculan Disputations,' v. 23). It is a little distance to the west of the wall of Achradina, on the left of the road which mounts the slope of Epipolæ. I unfortunately cannot remember whether there were any traces of the sphere and cylinder inscribed on it, which Cicero mentions as there when he excavated it; but my impression at the time was, that its identity rested simply on a Ciceronic tradition, and that it was hardly more genuine than Virgil's tomb at Naples. The tomb itself resembled a number of other tombs near--among them, the reputed tomb of Timoleon, which is close by (Cicero speaks of the number of tombs in that spot). But, whatever the value of the identifying tradition, there can be no doubt that Wordsworth, in these lines, has thoroughly reproduced the local colour of the surroundings. As one mounts the road I mentioned, past the tomb of Archimedes, and gets the view over Achradina--once so populous, and now a waste area covered with grey rocks and grass, save where, here and there, it is converted by irrigation into fertile gardens and fields--one has strongly brought before him how completely Syracuse has 'vanished.' The modern city is entirely confined within the limits of Ortygia, and the general impression that one gets of Achradina is that it is the graveyard of the old city. I remember that this feeling came over me very strongly at the time, but it was certainly not suggested by Wordsworth's lines, which I did not remember."--ED.]

[Footnote KE: The heights between Buxton and Macclesfield, at the top of the Valley of the Gite, near the Cat-and-Fiddle Inn.--ED.]

[Footnote KF: "The alphabet was called the Christ-cross-row, some say because a cross was prefixed to the alphabet in the old primers; but as probably from a superstitious custom of writing the alphabet in the form of a cross, by way of charm." (Archdeacon Nares's _Glossary_, Art. "Christ-cross-row.")

"The A B C horn-book, containing the alphabet and nine digits. The most ancient of these infant-school books had the letters arranged in the form of a Latin cross, with A at the top and Z at the bottom, but afterwards the letters were arranged in lines, and a + was placed at the beginning to remind the learner that 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.'

Mortals ne'er shall know More than contain'd of old the Christ-cross Row.

Tickell, _The Horn-Book_.

(See Brewer's _Dictionary of Phrase and Fable_.)

At the beginning of a poem by the Rev. J. S. Hawker, called _A Christ-cross-Rhyme_, we find

Christ, his cross, shall be my speed, Teach me, father John, to read.

"The true use of the cross in drawing is to define or mark a point, especially a point to start or measure from.... But it was impossible that it could be used long without reference being supposed to be made to the cross of Christ, and it must soon have been regarded as invoking Christ's blessing upon the commencement of any writing."--W. W. Skeat in _Notes and Queries_, 3rd Series, XI. May 4, 1867.

And from the cross-row plucks the letter G.

Shakespeare, _Richard III_. act 1. scene i. l. 55. ED. ]

[Footnote KG: The "hedge of hollies dark and tall," and the "pure cerulean gravel" on the walk between the "pastor's mansion" and the "house of prayer," are all due to the imagination of the poet. There is nothing now--either at Hackett or at the parsonage in Grasmere--at all corresponding to the details given in _The Excursion_; and it is not likely that the surroundings of either house in Wordsworth's time resembled the description given in the poem.--ED.]

[Footnote KH: See the note on the preceding page.]

[Footnote KI: A reminiscence of St. Bees, or of days spent on the Cumbrian coast. Compare the two sonnets (1806), _With Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh_, and _Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go?_ (vol. iv. pp. 40, 41).--ED.]

Book Ninth

DISCOURSE OF THE WANDERER, AND AN EVENING VISIT TO THE LAKE[KJ]

ARGUMENT

_Wanderer asserts that an active principle pervades the Universe, its noblest seat the human soul--How lively this principle is in Childhood--Hence the delight in old Age of looking back upon Childhood--The dignity, powers, and privileges of Age asserted--These not to be looked for generally but under a just government--Right of a human Creature to be exempt from being considered as a mere Instrument[813]--The condition of multitudes deplored[814]--Former conversation recurred to, and the Wanderer's opinions set in a clearer light[815]--Truth placed within reach of the humblest --Equality--Happy[816] state of the two Boys again adverted to--Earnest wish expressed for a System of National Education established universally by Government--Glorious effects of this foretold--Walk to the Lake[817]--Grand spectacle from the side of a hill--Address of Priest to the Supreme Being--in the course of which he contrasts with ancient Barbarism the present appearance of the scene before him--The change ascribed to Christianity--Apostrophe to his flock, living and dead--Gratitude to the Almighty--Return over the Lake--Parting with the Solitary--Under what circumstances._

"To every Form of being is assigned," Thus calmly spake the venerable Sage, "An _active_ Principle:--howe'er removed From sense and observation, it subsists In all things, in all natures; in the stars 5 Of azure heaven, the unenduring clouds, In flower and tree, in every pebbly stone That paves the brooks, the stationary rocks, The moving waters, and the invisible air. Whate'er exists hath properties that spread 10 Beyond itself, communicating good, A simple blessing, or with evil mixed; Spirit that knows no insulated spot, No chasm, no solitude; from link to link It circulates, the Soul of all the worlds.[KK] 15 This is the freedom of the universe; Unfolded still the more, more visible, The more we know; and yet is reverenced least, And least respected in the human Mind, Its most apparent home. The food of hope 20 Is meditated action; robbed of this Her sole support, she languishes and dies. We perish also; for we live by hope And by desire; we see by the glad light And breathe the sweet air of futurity; 25 And so we live, or else we have no life. To-morrow--nay perchance this very hour (For every moment hath[818] its own to-morrow!) Those blooming Boys, whose hearts are almost sick With present triumph, will be sure to find 30 A field before them freshened with the dew Of other expectations;--in which course Their happy year spins round. The youth obeys A like glad impulse; and so moves the man 'Mid all his apprehensions, cares, and fears,-- 35 Or so he ought to move. 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[819] 40 Reverberations; and a choral song, Commingling with the incense that ascends, Undaunted, toward[820] the imperishable heavens, From her own lonely altar? "Do not think That good and wise ever will be allowed,[821] 45 Though strength decay, to breathe in such estate As shall divide them wholly from the stir Of hopeful nature. Rightly it is[822] said That Man descends into the Vale of years; Yet have I thought that we might also speak, 50 And not presumptuously, I trust, of Age, As of a final Eminence; though bare In aspect and forbidding, yet a point On which 'tis not impossible to sit In awful sovereignty; a place of power, 55 A throne, that[823] may be likened unto his, Who, in some placid day of summer, looks Down from a mountain-top,--say one of those High peaks, that bound the vale where now we are.[KL] Faint, and diminished to the gazing eye, 60 Forest and field, and hill and dale appear, With all the shapes over[824] their surface spread: But, while the gross and visible frame of things Relinquishes its hold upon the sense, Yea almost on the Mind herself,[825] and seems 65 All unsubstantialized,--how loud the voice Of waters, with invigorated peal From the full river[KM] in the vale below, Ascending! For on that superior height Who sits, is disencumbered from the press 70 Of near obstructions, and is privileged To breathe in solitude, above the host Of ever-humming insects, 'mid thin air That suits not them. The murmur of the leaves Many and idle, visits[826] not his ear: 75 This he is freed from, and from thousand notes (Not less unceasing, not less vain than these,) By which the finer passages of sense Are occupied; and the Soul, that would incline To listen, is prevented or deterred. 80

"And may it not be hoped, that, placed by age In like removal, tranquil though severe, We are not so removed for utter loss; But for some favour, suited to our need? What more than that the severing should confer[827] 85 Fresh power to commune with the invisible world, And hear the mighty stream of tendency[KN] Uttering, for elevation of our thought, A clear sonorous voice, inaudible To the vast multitude; whose doom it is 90 To run the giddy round of vain delight, Or fret and labour on the Plain below.

"But, if to such sublime ascent the hopes Of Man may rise, as to a welcome close And termination of his mortal course; 95 Them only can such hope inspire whose minds Have not been starved by absolute neglect; Nor bodies crushed by unremitting toil; To whom kind Nature, therefore, may afford Proof of the sacred love she bears for all; 100 Whose birthright Reason, therefore, may ensure. For me, consulting what I feel within In times when most existence with herself Is satisfied, I cannot but believe, That, far as kindly Nature hath free scope 105 And Reason's sway predominates; even so far, Country, society, and time itself, That saps the individual's bodily frame, And lays the generations low in dust, Do, by the almighty Ruler's grace, partake 110 Of one maternal spirit, bringing forth And cherishing with ever-constant love, That tires not, nor betrays. Our life is turned Out of her course, wherever man is made An offering, or a sacrifice, a tool 115 Or implement, a passive thing employed As a brute mean, without acknowledgment Of common right or interest in the end; Used or abused, as selfishness may prompt. Say, what can follow for a rational soul 120 Perverted thus, but weakness in all good, And strength in evil? Hence an after-call For chastisement, and custody, and bonds, And oft-times Death, avenger of the past, And the sole guardian in whose hands we dare 125 Entrust the future.--Not for these sad issues Was Man created; but to obey the law Of life, and hope, and action. And 'tis known That when we stand upon our native soil, Unelbowed by such objects as oppress 130 Our active powers, those powers themselves become Strong to subvert our noxious qualities: They sweep distemper from the busy day, And make the chalice of the big round year Run o'er with gladness;[828] whence the Being moves 135 In beauty through the world; and all who see Bless him, rejoicing in his neighbourhood."

"Then," said the Solitary, "by what force[829] Of language shall a feeling heart express Her sorrow for that multitude in whom 140 We look for health from seeds that have been sown In sickness, and for increase in a power That works but by extinction? On themselves They cannot lean, nor turn to their own hearts To know what they must do; their wisdom is 145 To look into the eyes of others, thence To be instructed what they must avoid: Or rather, let us say, how least observed, How with most quiet and most silent death, With the least taint and injury to the air 150 The oppressor breathes, their human form divine, And their immortal soul, may waste away."

The Sage rejoined, "I thank you--you have spared My voice the utterance of a keen regret, A wide compassion which with you I share. 155 When, heretofore, I placed before your sight A Little-one,[830] subjected to the arts Of modern ingenuity, and made The senseless member of a vast machine, Serving as doth a spindle or a wheel; 160 Think not, that, pitying him, I could forget The rustic Boy, who walks the fields, untaught; The slave of ignorance, and oft of want, And miserable hunger. Much, too much, Of this unhappy lot, in early youth 165 We both have witnessed, lot which I myself Shared, though in mild and merciful degree: Yet was the[831] mind to hinderances exposed, Through which I[832] struggled, not without distress And sometimes injury, like a lamb[833] enthralled 170 'Mid thorns and brambles; or a bird that breaks Through a strong net, and mounts upon the wind, Though with her plumes impaired. If they, whose souls Should open while they range the richer fields Of merry England, are obstructed less, 175 By indigence, their ignorance is not less, Nor less to be deplored. For who can doubt That tens of thousands at this day exist Such as the boy you painted, lineal heirs Of those who once were vassals of her soil, 180 Following its fortunes like the beasts or trees Which it sustained. But no one takes delight In this oppression; none are proud of it; It bears no sounding name, nor ever bore; A standing grievance, an indigenous vice 185 Of every country under heaven. My thoughts Were turned to evils that are new and chosen, A bondage lurking under shape of good,-- Arts, in themselves beneficent and kind, But all too fondly followed and too far;-- 190 To victims, which the merciful can see Nor think that they are victims--turned to wrongs, By women, who have children of their own, Beheld without compassion, yea with praise! I spake of mischief by the wise diffused[834] 195 With gladness, thinking that the more it spreads The healthier, the securer, we become; Delusion which a moment may destroy! Lastly I mourned for those whom I had seen Corrupted and cast down, on favoured ground, 200 Where circumstance and nature had combined To shelter innocence, and cherish love; Who, but for this intrusion, would have lived, Possessed of health, and strength, and peace of mind; Thus would have lived, or never have been born! 205

"Alas! what differs more than man from man! And whence that difference? Whence but from himself? For see the universal Race endowed With the same upright form!--The sun is fixed, And the infinite magnificence of heaven 210 Fixed, within reach[835] of every human eye; The sleepless ocean murmurs for all ears; The vernal field infuses fresh delight Into all hearts. Throughout the world of sense, Even as an object is sublime or fair, 215 That object is laid open to the view Without reserve or veil; and as a power Is salutary, or an influence sweet, Are each and all enabled to perceive That power, that influence, by impartial law. 220 Gifts nobler are vouchsafed alike to all; Reason, and, with that reason, smiles and tears; Imagination, freedom in the will; Conscience to guide and check; and death to be Foretasted, immortality conceived 225 By all,--a blissful immortality, To them whose holiness on earth shall make The Spirit capable of heaven, assured.[836] Strange, then, nor less than monstrous, might be deemed The failure, if the Almighty, to this point 230 Liberal[837] and undistinguishing, should hide The excellence of moral qualities From common understanding; leaving truth And virtue, difficult, abstruse, and dark; Hard to be won, and only by a few; 235 Strange, should He deal herein with nice respects, And frustrate all the rest! Believe it not: The primal duties shine aloft--like stars; The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of Man--like flowers. 240 The generous inclination, the just rule, Kind wishes, and good actions, and pure thoughts-- No mystery is here! Here is no boon For high--yet not for low; for proudly graced-- Yet[838] not for meek of heart. The smoke ascends 245 To heaven as lightly from the cottage-hearth As from the haughtiest[839] palace. He, whose soul Ponders this true equality, may walk The fields of earth with gratitude and hope; Yet, in that meditation, will he find 250 Motive to sadder grief, as we have found; Lamenting ancient virtues overthrown, And for the injustice grieving, that hath made So wide a difference between[840] man and man.

"Then let us rather fix our gladdened thoughts[841] 255 Upon the brighter scene. How blest that pair Of blooming Boys (whom we beheld even now) Blest in their several and their common lot! A few short hours of each returning day The thriving prisoners of their village-school: 260 And thence let loose, to seek their pleasant homes Or range the grassy lawn in vacancy; To breathe and to be happy, run and shout Idle,--but no delay, no harm, no loss; For every genial power of heaven and earth, 265 Through all the seasons of the changeful year, Obsequiously doth take upon herself To labour for them; bringing each in turn The tribute of enjoyment, knowledge, health, Beauty, or strength! Such privilege is theirs, 270 Granted alike in the outset of their course To both; and, if that partnership must cease, I grieve not," to the Pastor here he turned, "Much as I glory in that child of yours, Repine not for his cottage-comrade, whom 275 Belike no higher destiny awaits Than the old hereditary wish fulfilled; The wish for liberty to live--content With what Heaven grants, and die--in peace of mind, Within the bosom of his native vale. 280 At least, whatever fate the noon of life Reserves for either, sure it is[842] that both Have been permitted to enjoy the dawn; Whether regarded as a jocund time, That in itself may terminate, or lead 285 In course of nature to a sober eve. Both have been fairly dealt with; looking back They will allow that justice has in them Been shown, alike to body and to mind."

He paused, as if revolving in his soul 290 Some weighty matter; then, with fervent voice And an impassioned majesty, exclaimed--

"O for the coming of that glorious time When, prizing knowledge as her noblest wealth And best protection, this imperial Realm 295 While she exacts allegiance, shall admit An obligation, on her part, to _teach_ Them who are born to serve her and obey; Binding herself by statute[KO] to secure For all the children whom her soil maintains 300 The rudiments of letters, and inform[843] The mind with moral and religious truth, Both understood and practised,--so that none, However destitute, be left to droop By timely culture unsustained; or run 305 Into a wild disorder; or be forced To drudge through a weary life without the help[844] Of intellectual implements and tools; A savage horde among the civilised, A servile band among the lordly free! 310 This sacred right, the lisping babe proclaims[845] To be inherent in him, by Heaven's will, For the protection of his innocence; And the rude boy--who, having overpast The sinless age, by conscience is enrolled, 315 Yet mutinously knits his angry brow, And lifts his wilful hand on mischief bent, Or turns the godlike[846] faculty of speech To impious use--by process indirect Declares his due, while he makes known his need. 320 --This sacred right is fruitlessly announced, This universal plea in vain addressed, To eyes and ears of parents who themselves Did, in the time of their necessity, Urge it in vain; and, therefore, like a prayer 325 That from the humblest floor ascends to heaven, It mounts to reach the State's parental ear; Who, if indeed she own a mother's heart, And be not most unfeelingly devoid Of gratitude to Providence, will grant 330 The unquestionable good--which, England, safe From interference of external force, May grant at leisure; without risk incurred That what in wisdom for herself she doth, Others shall e'er be able to undo. 335

"Look! and behold, from Calpe's sunburnt cliffs[KP] To the flat margin of the Baltic sea, Long-reverenced titles cast away as weeds; Laws overturned; and territory split, Like fields of ice rent by the polar wind, 340 And forced to join in less obnoxious shapes Which,[847] ere they gain consistence, by a gust Of the same breath are shattered and destroyed. Meantime the sovereignty of these fair Isles Remains entire and indivisible: 345 And, if that ignorance were removed, which breeds[848] Within the compass of their several shores Dark discontent, or loud commotion, each Might still preserve[849] the beautiful repose Of heavenly bodies shining in their spheres. 350 --The discipline of slavery is unknown Among[850] us,--hence the more do we require The discipline of virtue; order else Cannot subsist, nor confidence, nor peace. Thus, duties rising out of good possest 355 And prudent caution needful to avert Impending evil, equally require That the whole people should be taught and trained.[851] So shall licentiousness and black resolve Be rooted out, and virtuous habits take 360 Their place; and genuine piety descend, Like[852] an inheritance, from age to age.

"With such foundations laid, avaunt the fear Of numbers crowded on their native soil, To the prevention of all healthful growth 365 Through mutual injury! Rather in the law Of increase and the mandate from above Rejoice!--and ye have special cause for joy. --For, as the element of air affords An easy passage to the industrious bees 370 Fraught with their burthens; and a way as smooth For those ordained to take their sounding flight From the thronged hive, and settle where they list In fresh abodes--their labour to renew; So the wide waters, open to the power, 375 The will, the instincts, and appointed needs Of Britain, do invite her to cast off Her swarms, and in succession send them forth; Bound to establish new communities On every shore whose aspect favours hope 380 Or bold adventure; promising to skill And perseverance their deserved reward.

"Yes," he continued, kindling as he spake, "Change wide, and deep, and silently performed, This Land shall witness; and as days roll on, 385 Earth's universal frame shall feel the effect; Even till the smallest habitable rock, Beaten by lonely billows, hear the songs Of humanised society; and bloom With civil arts, that shall breathe forth their fragrance,[853] A grateful tribute to all-ruling Heaven. 391 From culture, unexclusively bestowed On Albion's noble Race in freedom born,[854] Expect these mighty issues: from the pains And faithful[855] care of unambitious schools 395 Instructing simple childhood's ready ear: Thence look for these magnificent results! --Vast the circumference of hope--and ye Are at its centre, British Lawgivers; Ah! sleep not there in shame! Shall Wisdom's voice From out the bosom of these troubled times 401 Repeat the dictates of her calmer mind, And shall the venerable halls ye fill Refuse to echo the sublime decree? Trust not to partial care a general good; 405 Transfer not to futurity a work Of urgent need.--Your Country must complete Her glorious destiny. Begin even now, Now, when oppression, like the Egyptian plague Of darkness, stretched o'er guilty Europe,[KQ] makes 410 The brightness more conspicuous that invests The happy Island where ye think and act; Now, when destruction is a prime pursuit, Show to the wretched nations for what end The powers of civil polity were given." 415

Abruptly here, but with a graceful air, The Sage broke off. No sooner had he ceased Than, looking forth, the gentle Lady said, "Behold the shades of afternoon have fallen Upon this flowery slope; and see--beyond-- 420 The silvery lake is streaked with placid blue;[856] As if preparing for the peace of evening.[KR] How temptingly the landscape shines! The air Breathes invitation; easy is the walk To the lake's margin, where a boat lies moored 425 Under a[857] sheltering tree."--Upon this hint We rose together: all were pleased; but most The beauteous girl, whose cheek was flushed with joy. Light as a sunbeam glides along the hills She vanished--eager to impart the scheme 430 To her loved brother and his shy compeer. --Now was there bustle in the Vicar's house And earnest preparation.--Forth we went, And down the vale along the streamlet's edge[858] Pursued our way, a broken company, 435 Mute or conversing, single or in pairs. Thus having reached a bridge, that overarched The hasty rivulet where it lay becalmed In a deep pool, by happy chance we saw A two-fold image; on a grassy bank 440 A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same! Most beautiful, On the green turf, with his imperial front Shaggy and bold, and wreathèd horns superb, The breathing creature stood; as beautiful, 445 Beneath him, shewed his shadowy counterpart. Each had his glowing mountains, each his sky, And each seemed centre of his own fair world: Antipodes unconscious of each other, Yet, in partition, with their several spheres, 450 Blended in perfect stillness, to our sight![KS]

"Ah! what a pity were it to disperse, Or to disturb, so fair a spectacle, And yet a breath can do it!" These few words The Lady whispered, while we stood and gazed 455 Gathered together, all in still delight, Not without awe. Thence passing on, she said In like low voice to my particular ear, "I love to hear that eloquent old Man Pour forth his meditations, and descant 460 On human life from infancy to age. How pure his spirit! in what vivid hues His mind gives back the various forms of things, Caught in their fairest, happiest, attitude! While he is speaking, I have power to see 465 Even as he sees; but when his voice hath ceased, Then, with a sigh, sometimes I feel,[859] as now, That combinations so serene and bright Cannot be lasting in a world like ours, Whose highest beauty, beautiful as it is, 470 Like that reflected in yon quiet pool, Seems but a fleeting sun-beam's gift, whose peace The sufferance only of a breath of air!"[860]

More had she said--but sportive shouts were heard Sent from the jocund hearts of those two Boys, 475 Who, bearing each a basket on his arm, Down the green field came tripping after us. With caution we embarked; and now the pair For prouder service were addrest; but each, Wishful to leave an opening for my choice, 480 Dropped the light oar his eager hand had seized. Thanks given for that becoming courtesy, Their place I took--and for a grateful office[861] Pregnant with recollections of the time When, on thy bosom, spacious Windermere![KT] 485 A Youth, I practised this delightful art; Tossed on the waves alone, or 'mid a crew Of joyous comrades. Soon as the reedy marge Was cleared, I dipped, with arms accordant, oars[862] Free from obstruction; and the boat advanced 490 Through crystal water, smoothly as a hawk, That, disentangled from the shady boughs Of some thick wood, her place of covert, cleaves With correspondent wings the abyss of air. --"Observe," the Vicar said, "yon rocky isle 495 With birch-trees fringed;[KU] my hand shall guide the helm, While thitherward we shape[863] our course; or while We seek that other, on the western shore; Where the bare columns of those lofty firs,[KU] Supporting gracefully a massy dome 500 Of sombre[864] foliage, seem to imitate A Grecian temple rising from the Deep."

"Turn where we may," said I, "we cannot err In this delicious region."--Cultured slopes, Wild tracts of forest-ground, and scattered groves, 505 And mountains bare, or clothed with ancient woods, Surrounded us; and, as we held our way Along the level of the glassy flood, They ceased not to surround us; change of place, From kindred features diversely combined, 510 Producing change of beauty ever new.[KV] --Ah! that such beauty, varying in the light Of living nature, cannot be portrayed By words, nor by the pencil's silent skill; But is the property of him alone 515 Who hath beheld it, noted it with care, And in his mind recorded it with love! Suffice it, therefore, if the rural Muse Vouchsafe sweet influence, while her Poet speaks Of trivial occupations well devised, 520 And unsought pleasures springing up by chance; As if some friendly Genius had ordained That, as the day thus far had been enriched By acquisition of sincere delight, The same should be continued to its close. 525

One spirit animating old and young, A gipsy-fire we kindled on the shore Of the fair Isle with birch-trees fringed--and there, Merrily seated in a ring, partook A choice repast--served by our young companions[865] 530 With rival earnestness and kindred glee.[866] Launched from our hands the smooth stone skimmed the lake; With shouts we raised[867] the echoes;--stiller sounds The lovely Girl supplied--a simple song, Whose low tones reached not to the distant rocks 535 To be repeated thence,[868] but gently sank Into our hearts; and charmed the peaceful flood. Rapaciously we gathered flowery spoils From land and water; lilies of each hue-- Golden and white, that float upon the waves, 540 And court the wind; and leaves of that shy plant, (Her flowers were shed) the lily of the vale,[KW] That loves the ground, and from the sun withholds Her pensive beauty; from the breeze her sweets.

Such product, and such pastime, did the place 545 And season yield; but, as we re-embarked, Leaving, in quest of other scenes, the shore Of that wild spot, the Solitary said In a low voice, yet careless who might hear, "The fire, that burned so brightly to our wish, 550 Where is it now?--Deserted on the beach-- Dying, or dead![869] Nor shall the fanning breeze Revive its ashes. What care we for this, Whose ends are gained? Behold an emblem here Of one day's pleasure, and all mortal joys! 555 And, in this unpremeditated slight Of that which is no longer needed, see The common course of human gratitude!"

This plaintive note disturbed not the repose Of the still evening. Right across the lake 560 Our pinnace moves; then, coasting creek and bay, Glades we behold, and into thickets peep, Where couch the spotted deer;[KX] or raised our eyes To shaggy steeps on which the careless goat Browsed by the side of dashing waterfalls;[KY] 565 And thus the bark, meandering with the shore, Pursued her voyage, till a natural pier Of jutting rock invited us to land.[870]

Alert to follow as the Pastor led, We clomb a green hill's side;[KZ] and, as we clomb, 570 The Valley, opening out her bosom, gave Fair prospect, intercepted less and less,[871] O'er[872] the flat meadows and indented coast Of the smooth lake,[873] in compass seen:--far off, And yet conspicuous, stood the old Church-tower,[LA] 575 In majesty presiding over fields And habitations seemingly preserved[874] From all intrusion of the restless world[875] By rocks impassable and mountains huge.

Soft heath this elevated spot supplied, 580 And choice of moss-clad stones, whereon we couched Or sate reclined; admiring quietly The general aspect of the scene; but each Not seldom over anxious to make known[876] His own discoveries; or to favourite points 585 Directing notice, merely from a wish To impart a joy, imperfect while unshared. That rapturous moment never[877] shall I forget When these particular interests were effaced From every mind!--Already had the sun, 590 Sinking with less than ordinary state, Attained his western bound; but rays of light-- Now suddenly diverging from the orb Retired behind the mountain tops or veiled By the dense air--shot upwards to the crown 595 Of the blue firmament--aloft, and wide: And multitudes of little floating clouds, Through their ethereal texture pierced--ere we, Who saw, of change were conscious--had become[878] Vivid as fire; clouds separately poised,-- 600 Innumerable multitude of forms Scattered through half the circle of the sky; And giving back, and shedding each on each, With prodigal communion, the bright hues Which from the unapparent fount of glory 605 They had imbibed, and ceased not to receive. That which the heavens displayed, the liquid deep Repeated; but with unity sublime!

While from the grassy mountain's open side[LB] We gazed, in silence hushed, with eyes intent 610 On the refulgent spectacle, diffused Through earth, sky, water, and all visible space, The Priest in holy transport thus exclaimed:

"Eternal Spirit! universal God! Power inaccessible to human thought, 615 Save by degrees and steps which thou hast deigned To furnish; for this effluence of thyself,[879] To the infirmity of mortal sense Vouchsafed; this local transitory type Of thy paternal splendours, and the pomp 620 Of those who fill thy courts in highest heaven, The radiant Cherubim;--accept the thanks Which we, thy humble Creatures, here convened, Presume to offer; we, who--from the breast Of the frail earth, permitted to behold 625 The faint reflections only of thy face-- Are yet exalted, and in soul adore! Such as they are who in thy presence stand Unsullied, incorruptible, and drink Imperishable majesty streamed forth 630 From thy empyreal throne, the elect of earth Shall be--divested at the appointed hour Of all dishonour, cleansed from mortal stain. --Accomplish, then, their number; and conclude Time's weary course! Or if, by thy decree, 635 The consummation that will come by stealth Be yet far distant, let thy Word prevail, Oh! let thy Word prevail, to take away The sting of human nature. Spread the law, As it is written in thy holy book, 640 Throughout all lands: let every nation hear The high behest, and every heart obey; Both for the love of purity, and hope Which it affords, to such as do thy will And persevere in good, that they shall rise, 645 To have a nearer view of thee, in heaven. --Father of good! this prayer in bounty grant, In mercy grant it, to thy wretched sons. Then, nor till then, shall persecution cease, And cruel wars expire. The way is marked, 650 The guide appointed, and the ransom paid. Alas! the nations, who of yore received These tidings, and in Christian temples meet The sacred truth to acknowledge, linger still; Preferring bonds and darkness to a state 655 Of holy freedom, by redeeming love Proffered to all, while yet on earth detained.

"So fare the many; and the thoughtful few, Who in the anguish of their souls bewail This dire perverseness, cannot choose but ask, 660 Shall it endure?--Shall enmity and strife, Falsehood and guile, be left to sow their seed; And the kind never perish? Is the hope Fallacious, or shall righteousness obtain A peaceable dominion, wide as earth, 665 And ne'er to fail? Shall that blest day arrive When they, whose choice or lot it is to dwell In crowded cities, without fear shall live Studious of mutual benefit; and he, Whom Morn awakens, among dews and flowers[880] 670 Of every clime, to till the lonely field, Be happy in himself? The law of faith Working through love, such conquest shall it gain, Such triumph over sin and guilt achieve? Almighty Lord, thy further grace impart! 675 And with that help the wonder shall be seen Fulfilled, the hope accomplished; and thy praise Be sung with transport and unceasing joy.

"Once," and with mild demeanour, as he spake, On us the venerable Pastor turned 680 His beaming eye that had been raised[881] to Heaven, "Once,[882] while the Name, Jehovah, was a sound Within the circuit of this sea-girt isle Unheard, the savage nations bowed the head[883] To Gods delighting in remorseless deeds; 685 Gods which themselves had fashioned, to promote Ill purposes, and flatter foul desires. Then, in the bosom of yon mountain-cove,[LC] To those inventions of corrupted man Mysterious rites were solemnised; and there-- 690 Amid impending rocks and gloomy woods-- Of those terrific Idols some received[884] Such dismal service, that the loudest voice Of the swoln cataracts (which now are heard Soft murmuring) was too weak to overcome, 695 Though aided by wild winds, the groans and shrieks Of human victims, offered up to appease Or to propitiate. And, if living eyes Had visionary faculties to see The thing that hath been as the thing that is, 700 Aghast we might behold this crystal[885] Mere Bedimmed with smoke, in wreaths voluminous, Flung from the body of devouring fires, To Taranis erected[LD] on the heights By priestly hands, for sacrifice performed 705 Exultingly, in view of open day And full assemblage of a barbarous host; Or to Andates, female Power[LE] who gave (For so they fancied) glorious victory. --A few rude monuments of mountain-stone 710 Survive; all else is swept away.--How bright The appearances of things! From such, how changed The existing worship; and with those compared, The worshippers how innocent and blest! So wide the difference, a willing mind 715 Might almost think, at this affecting hour,[886] That paradise, the lost abode of man, Was raised again: and to a happy few, In its original beauty, here restored.

"Whence but from thee, the true and only God, 720 And from the faith derived through Him who bled Upon the cross, this marvellous advance Of good from evil; as if one extreme Were left, the other gained.--O ye, who come To kneel devoutly in yon reverend Pile,[LF] 725 Called to such office by the peaceful sound Of sabbath bells; and ye, who sleep in earth, All cares forgotten, round its hallowed walls! For you, in presence of this little band Gathered together on the green hill-side, 730 Your Pastor is emboldened to prefer Vocal thanksgivings to the eternal King; Whose love, whose counsel, whose commands, have made Your very poorest rich in peace of thought And in good works; and him, who is endowed 735 With scantiest knowledge, master of all truth Which the salvation of his soul requires. Conscious of that abundant favour showered On you, the children of my humble care, And this dear land, our country, while on earth 740 We sojourn, have I lifted up my soul, Joy giving voice to fervent gratitude.[887] These barren rocks, your stern inheritance; These fertile fields, that recompense your pains; The shadowy vale, the sunny mountain-top; 745 Woods waving in the wind their lofty heads, Or hushed; the roaring waters, and[888] the still-- They see the offering of my lifted hands, They hear my lips present their sacrifice, They know if I be silent, morn or even:[LG] 750 For, though in whispers speaking, the full heart Will find a vent; and thought is praise to him, Audible praise, to thee, omniscient Mind, From whom all gifts descend, all blessings flow!"

This vesper-service closed, without delay, 755 From that exalted station to the plain Descending, we pursued our homeward course, In mute composure, o'er the shadowy lake, Under[889] a faded sky. No trace remained Of those celestial splendours; grey the vault-- 760 Pure, cloudless, ether; and the star of eve Was wanting; but inferior lights appeared Faintly, too faint almost for sight; and some Above the darkened hills stood boldly forth In twinkling lustre, ere the boat attained 765 Her mooring-place; where, to the sheltering tree, Our youthful Voyagers bound fast her prow, With prompt yet careful hands. This done, we paced The dewy fields; but ere the Vicar's door Was reached, the Solitary checked his steps; 770 Then, intermingling thanks, on each bestowed A farewell salutation; and, the like Receiving, took the slender path that leads To the one cottage in the lonely dell:[LH] But turned not without welcome promise made[890] 775 That he would share the pleasures and pursuits Of yet another summer's day,[LI] not loth To wander with us through the fertile vales,[891] And o'er the mountain-wastes. "Another sun," Said he, "shall shine upon us, ere we part; 780 Another sun, and peradventure more; If time, with free consent, be yours[892] to give, And season favours." To enfeebled Power, From this communion with uninjured Minds, What renovation had been brought; and what 785 Degree of healing to a wounded spirit, Dejected, and habitually disposed To seek, in degradation of the Kind, Excuse and solace for her own defects; How far those erring notions were reformed; 790 And whether aught, of tendency as good And pure, from further intercourse ensued; This--if delightful hopes, as heretofore, Inspire the serious song, and gentle Hearts Cherish, and lofty Minds approve the past-- 795 My future labours may not leave untold.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 813: 1836.

_Vicious inclinations are best kept under by giving good ones an opportunity to shew themselves_-- 1814. ]

[Footnote 814: 1836.

_deplored from want of due respect to this truth on the part of their superiors in society_-- 1814. ]

[Footnote 815: 1836.

_Genuine principles of equality_-- 1814. ]

[Footnote 816: 1836.

_humblest--Happy_ 1814. ]

[Footnote 817: 1836.

_Wanderer breaks off--Walk to the Lake--embark--Description of scenery and amusements--_ 1814. ]

[Footnote 818: 1820.

... has ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 819: 1827.

Of her own native vigour--but for this, That it is given her thence in age to hear 1814. ]

[Footnote 820: 1827.

... tow'rds ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 821: 1832.

... will ever be allowed, 1814. ]

[Footnote 822: 1850.

... is it ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 823: 1827.

... which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 824: 1845.

... upon ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 825: 1827.

... itself, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 826: 1827.

... touches ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 827: 1827.

What more than this, that we thereby should gain 1814. ]

[Footnote 828: 1832.

They sweep away infection from the heart; And, by the substitution of delight, Suppress all evil; ... 1814.

They sweep distemper from the busy day, And make the Vessel of the big round Year Run o'er with gladness; ... 1827. ]

[Footnote 829: 1827.

... power 1814. ]

[Footnote 830: 1827.

... before your sight A most familiar object of our days, A Little-one, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 831: 1827.

... my ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 832:

Through which she ... MS. ]

[Footnote 833: 1827.

... Sheep ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 834: 1827.

Which Women who have Children of their own Regard without compassion, yea with praise! I spake of mischief which the wise diffuse 1814. ]

[Footnote 835: 1827.

Within the reach ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 836: 1845.

... and death to be Foretasted, immortality presumed. 1814. ]

[Footnote 837: 1814.

Bountiful ... C. ]

[Footnote 838: 1836.

... no special boon For high and not for low, for proudly graced And ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 839: 1836.

... haughty ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 840: 1836.

... betwixt ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 841: 1836.

But let us rather fix our gladdened thoughts 1814.

"But let us rather turn our gladdened thoughts 1827. ]

[Footnote 842: 1836.

... this is sure, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 843: 1827.

... and to inform 1814. ]

[Footnote 844: 1836.

To drudge through weary life without the aid 1814. ]

[Footnote 845: 1827.

This right, as sacred almost as the right To exist and be supplied with sustenance And means of life, the lisping Babe proclaims 1814. ]

[Footnote 846: 1827.

... sacred ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 847: 1814.

That ... 1836.

The text of 1845 returns to that of 1814.]

[Footnote 848: 1827.

... acts 1814. ]

[Footnote 849: 1827.

To breed commotion and disquietude, Each might preserve ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 850: 1836.

Amongst ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 851: 1827.

... do alike require That permanent provision should be made For the whole people to be taught and trained. 1814. ]

[Footnote 852:

... descend Upon the humblest member of the State Like ... C. ]

[Footnote 853: 1845.

With civil arts, and send their fragrance forth, 1814.

... that send ... 1827. ]

[Footnote 854: 1827.

From Culture, universally bestowed On Britain's noble Race in freedom born; From Education, from that humble source, 1814. ]

[Footnote 855: 1827.

... quiet ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 856: 1836.

The Lake though bright, is of a placid blue; 1814. ]

[Footnote 857: 1845.

Beneath her ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 858: 1827.

And down the Valley on the Streamlet's bank 1814. ]

[Footnote 859: 1832.

... I sometimes feel, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 860: 1845.

... so serene and bright; Like those reflected in yon quiet Pool, Cannot be lasting in a world like ours, To great and small disturbances exposed." 1814.

... so serene and bright; Like those reflected in yon quiet pool, Cannot be lasting in a world whose pleasure (And whose best beauty, beautiful as it is) Seems but a fleeting sun-beam's gift, whose peace The sufferance only of a breath of air!" 1836.

... so serene and bright Cannot be lasting in a world like ours, One whose best beauty, beautiful as it is, Like that reflected in yon quiet pool Seems but a fleeting sun-beam's gift, whose peace The sufferance only of a breath of air!" 1840. ]

[Footnote 861: 1836.

--When we had cautiously embarked, the Pair Now for a prouder service were addrest; But an inexorable law forbade, And each resigned the oar which he had seized. Whereat, with willing hand I undertook The needful labour; grateful task!--to me 1814. ]

[Footnote 862: 1836.

... Now the reedy marge Cleared, with a strenuous arm I dipped the oar, 1814. ]

[Footnote 863: 1836.

... bend ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 864:

... darksome ... C. ]

[Footnote 865:

... by youthful Pages served C. ]

[Footnote 866: 1836.

... partook The beverage drawn from China's fragrant herb. 1814. ]

[Footnote 867: 1836.

... roused ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 868: 1827.

... there, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 869: 1836.

... beach It seems extinct; nor shall ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 870: 1836.

Thus did the Bark, meandering with the shore, Pursue her voyage, till a point was gained Where a projecting line of rock, that framed A natural pier, invited us to land. 1814.

Thus did the Bark, meandering with the shore, Pursue her voyage, till a natural pier Of jutting rock invited us to land. 1827. ]

[Footnote 871: 1827.

... and thence obtained, Slowly, a less and less obstructed sight 1814. ]

[Footnote 872: 1836.

Of ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 873: 1827.

Of the whole lake-- ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 874: 1827.

... presiding o'er the Vale And all her Dwellings; seemingly preserved 1814. ]

[Footnote 875: 1845.

From the intrusion of a restless world 1814. ]

[Footnote 876: 1827.

With resting-place of mossy stone;--and there We sate reclined--admiring quietly The frame and general aspect of the scene; And each not seldom eager to make known 1814. ]

[Footnote 877: 1836.

... ne'er ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 878: 1836.

Pierced through their thin etherial mould, ere we, Who saw, of change were conscious, had become 1814.

Ere we, who saw, of change were conscious, pierced Through their ethereal texture, had become 1827. ]

[Footnote 879: 1827.

... Image of Thyself. 1814. ]

[Footnote 880: 1836.

Whom morning wakes, among sweet dews and flowers 1814. ]

[Footnote 881:

... henceforward raised ... C. ]

[Footnote 882: 1827.

... and unceasing joy. Once, while the Name ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 883: 1827.

... their heads 1814. ]

[Footnote 884: 1827.

Of those dread Idols, some, perchance, received 1814. ]

[Footnote 885: 1827.

... spacious ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 886: 1836.

At this affecting hour, might almost think 1814. ]

[Footnote 887: 1827

On your Abodes, and this beloved Land, Our birth-place, home, and Country, while on Earth We sojourn,--loudly do I utter thanks With earnest joy, that will not be suppressed. 1814. ]

[Footnote 888: 1827.

... or ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 889: 1836.

Beneath ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 890: 1845.

... in the lonely dell, His chosen residence. But, ere he turned Aside, a welcome promise had been given, 1814.

But turned not without welcome promise given, 1827. ]

[Footnote 891: 1845.

Of yet another summer's day, consumed In wandering with us through the Vallies fair, 1814.

... given up To wandering ... C. ]

[Footnote 892: 1814.

... is yours ... 1827.

The text of 1845 returns to that of 1814.]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote KJ: "On the side of Loughrigg Fell, at the foot of the lake, and looking down upon it and the whole Vale and its encompassing mountains, the Pastor is supposed by me to stand, when at sunset he addresses his companions."--I. F.]

[Footnote KK: Compare _Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey_ (vol. ii. p. 55, l. 100)--

A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. ED. ]

[Footnote KL: The vale of Langdale rather than that of Grasmere. It was the cottage at Hackett that was, by "the magician's wand," converted into the "Parsonage." Possibly, however, the allusion may be to Fairfield, or Stone Arthur.--ED.]

[Footnote KM: The Rothay.--ED.]

[Footnote KN: A phrase now familiarized to English ears by Mr. Arnold's use of it.--ED.]

[Footnote KO: See Wordsworth's note, p. 390. Compulsory Elementary Education was secured to Scotland by the Education Act of 1872, and to England by the Act of 1880.--ED.]

[Footnote KP: A promontory in Valencia, facing the Balearic Isles.--ED.]

[Footnote KQ: The reference is to Napoleon Buonaparte, and his designs of conquest, "oppression," and "destruction."--ED.]

[Footnote KR: See note, p. 371.--ED.]

[Footnote KS: Compare _Yarrow Unvisited_, ll. 43, 44 (vol. ii. p. 412)--

The swan on still St. Mary's Lake Float double, swan and shadow. ED. ]

[Footnote KT: Compare _The Prelude_,