Chapter XII: Part 12

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.