Chapter V: Part 5

Loth to forsake the spot, and still more loth 330
To be diverted from our present theme,
I said, "My thoughts, agreeing, Sir, with yours,
Would push this censure farther;--for, if smiles
Of scornful pity be the just reward
Of Poesy thus courteously employed 335
In framing models to improve the scheme
Of Man's existence, and recast the world,
Why should not grave Philosophy be styled,
Herself, a dreamer of a kindred stock,
A dreamer yet more spiritless and dull? 340
Yes, shall the fine immunities she boasts[240]
Establish sounder titles of esteem
For her, who (all too timid and reserved
For onset, for resistance too inert,
Too weak for suffering, and for hope too tame) 345
Placed, among[241] flowery gardens curtained round
With world-excluding groves, the brotherhood
Of soft Epicureans,[DF] taught--if they
The ends of being would secure, and win
The crown of wisdom--to yield up their souls 350
To a voluptuous unconcern, preferring
Tranquillity to all things. Or is she,"
I cried, "more worthy of regard, the Power,
Who, for the sake of sterner quiet, closed
The Stoic's[DG] heart against the vain approach 355
Of admiration, and all sense of joy?"

His countenance gave notice that my zeal
Accorded little with his present mind;
I ceased, and he resumed.--"Ah! gentle Sir,
Slight, if you will, the _means_; but spare to slight 360
The _end_ of those, who did, by system, rank,
As the prime object of a wise man's aim,
Security from shock of accident,
Release from fear; and cherished peaceful days
For their own sakes, as mortal life's chief good, 365
And only reasonable felicity.
What motive drew, what impulse, I would ask,
Through a long course of later ages, drove
The hermit to his cell in forest wide;
Or what detained him, till his closing eyes 370
Took their last farewell of the sun and stars,
Fast anchored in the desert?--Not alone
Dread of the persecuting sword, remorse,
Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged
And unavengeable, defeated pride, 375
Prosperity subverted, maddening want,
Friendship betrayed, affection unreturned,
Love with despair, or grief in agony;--
Not always from intolerable pangs 379
He fled; but, compassed round by pleasure, sighed
For independent happiness; craving peace,
The central feeling of all happiness,
Not as a refuge from distress or pain,
A breathing-time, vacation, or a truce,
But for its absolute self; a life of peace, 385
Stability without regret or fear;
That hath been, is, and shall be evermore!--
Such the reward he sought; and wore out life,
There, where on few external things his heart
Was set, and those his own; or, if not his, 390
Subsisting under nature's stedfast law.

"What other yearning was the master tie
Of the monastic brotherhood, upon rock
Aërial, or in green secluded vale,
One after one, collected from afar, 395
An undissolving fellowship?--What but this,
The universal instinct of repose,
The longing for confirmed tranquillity,
Inward and outward; humble, yet sublime:
The life where hope and memory are as one; 400
Where earth is quiet and her face unchanged
Save by the simplest toil of human hands
Or seasons' difference; the immortal Soul[242]
Consistent in self-rule; and heaven revealed
To meditation in that quietness!-- 405
Such was their scheme: and though the wished for end
By multitudes was missed, perhaps attained
By none, they for the attempt, and pains employed,[243]
Do, in my present censure, stand redeemed
From the unqualified disdain, that once 410
Would have been cast upon them by my voice
Delivering her[244] decisions from the seat
Of forward youth--that scruples not to solve
Doubts, and determine questions, by the rules
Of inexperienced judgment, ever prone 415
To overweening faith; and is inflamed,
By courage, to demand from real life
The test of act and suffering, to provoke
Hostility--how dreadful when it comes,
Whether affliction be the foe, or guilt! 420

"A child of earth, I rested, in that stage
Of my past course to which these thoughts advert,
Upon earth's native energies; forgetting
That mine was a condition which required
Nor energy, nor fortitude--a calm 425
Without vicissitude; which, if the like
Had been presented to my view elsewhere,
I might have even been tempted to despise.
But no--for the serene[245] was also bright;
Enlivened happiness with joy o'erflowing, 430
With joy, and--oh! that memory should survive
To speak the word--with rapture! Nature's boon,
Life's genuine inspiration, happiness
Above what rules can teach, or fancy feign;
Abused, as all possessions _are_[246] abused 435
That are not prized according to their worth.
And yet, what worth? what good is given to men,
More solid than the gilded clouds of heaven?
What joy more lasting than a vernal flower?
None! 'tis the general plaint of human kind 440
In solitude: and mutually addressed
From each to all, for wisdom's sake:--This truth
The priest announces from his holy seat:
And, crowned with garlands in the summer grove,
The poet fits it to his pensive lyre. 445
Yet, ere that final resting-place be gained,
Sharp contradictions may arise, by doom
Of this same life, compelling us to grieve[247]
That the prosperities of love and joy
Should be permitted, oft-times, to endure 450
So long, and be at once cast down for ever.
Oh! tremble, ye, to whom hath been assigned
A course of days composing happy months,
And they as happy years; the present still
So like the past, and both so firm a pledge 455
Of a congenial future, that the wheels
Of pleasure move without the aid of hope:
For Mutability is Nature's bane;
And slighted Hope _will_[248] be avenged; and, when
Ye need her favours, ye shall find her not; 460
But in her stead--fear--doubt--and agony!"

This was the bitter language of the heart:
But, while he spake, look, gesture, tone of voice,
Though discomposed and vehement, were such
As skill and graceful nature might suggest 465
To a proficient of the tragic scene
Standing before the multitude, beset
With dark events. Desirous to divert[249]
Or stem the current of the speaker's thoughts,
We signified a wish to leave that place 470
Of stillness and close privacy, a nook
That seemed for self-examination made;[250]
Or, for confession, in the sinner's need,
Hidden from all men's view.[DH] To our attempt
He yielded not; but, pointing to a slope 475
Of mossy turf defended from the sun,
And on that couch inviting us to rest,
Full on[251] that tender-hearted Man he turned
A serious eye, and his speech thus[252] renewed.

"You never saw, your eyes did never look 480
On the bright form of Her whom once I loved:--
Her silver voice was heard upon the earth,
A sound unknown to you; else, honoured Friend!
Your heart had borne a pitiable share
Of what I suffered, when I wept that loss, 485
And suffer now, not seldom, from the thought
That I remember, and can weep no more.--
Stripped as I am of all the golden fruit
Of self-esteem; and by the cutting blasts
Of self-reproach familiarly assailed; 490
Yet would I not be[253] of such wintry bareness
But that some leaf of your regard should hang
Upon my naked branches:--lively thoughts
Give birth, full often, to unguarded words;
I grieve that, in your presence, from my tongue 495
Too much of frailty hath already dropped;
But that too much demands still more.
"You know,
Revered Compatriot--and to you, kind Sir,
(Not to be deemed a stranger, as you come
Following the guidance of these welcome feet 500
To our secluded vale) it may be told--
That my demerits did not sue in vain
To One on whose mild radiance many gazed
With hope, and all with pleasure. This fair Bride--
In the devotedness of youthful love, 505
Preferring me to parents, and the choir
Of gay companions, to the natal roof,
And all known places and familiar sights
(Resigned with sadness gently weighing down
Her trembling expectations, but no more 510
Than did to her due honour, and to me
Yielded, that day, a confidence sublime
In what I had to build upon)--this Bride,
Young, modest, meek, and beautiful, I led
To a low cottage in a sunny bay, 515
Where the salt sea innocuously breaks,
And the sea breeze as innocently breathes,
On Devon's leafy shores;[DI]--a sheltered hold,
In a soft clime encouraging the soil
To a luxuriant bounty!--As our steps 520
Approach the embowered abode--our chosen seat--
See, rooted in the earth, her[254] kindly bed,
The unendangered myrtle, decked with flowers,
Before the threshold stands to welcome us!
While, in the flowering myrtle's neighbourhood, 525
Not overlooked but courting no regard,
Those native plants, the holly and the yew,
Gave modest intimation to the mind
How willingly their aid[255] they would unite
With the green myrtle, to endear the hours 530
Of winter, and protect that pleasant place.
--Wild were the walks upon those lonely Downs,[DJ]
Track leading into track; how marked, how worn
Into bright verdure, between fern and gorse,
Winding away its never ending line 535
On their smooth surface, evidence was none:
But, there, lay open to our daily haunt
A range of unappropriated earth,
Where youth's ambitious feet might move at large;
Whence, unmolested wanderers, we beheld 540
The shining giver of the day diffuse
His brightness o'er a tract of sea and land
Gay as our spirits, free as our desires;
As our enjoyments, boundless.--From those heights
We dropped, at pleasure, into sylvan combs;[DJ] 545
Where arbours of impenetrable shade,
And mossy seats, detained us side by side,
With hearts at ease, and knowledge in our hearts
'That all the grove and all the day was ours.'

"O happy time! still happier was at hand; 550
For Nature called my Partner to resign
Her share in the pure freedom of that life,[256]
Enjoyed by us in common.--To my hope,
To my heart's wish, my tender Mate became
The thankful captive of maternal bonds; 555
And those wild paths were left to me alone.
There could I meditate on follies past;
And, like a weary voyager escaped
From risk and hardship, inwardly retrace
A course of vain delights and thoughtless guilt, 560
And self-indulgence--without shame pursued.
There, undisturbed, could think of and could thank
Her whose submissive spirit was to me
Rule and restraint--my guardian--shall I say
That earthly Providence, whose guiding love 565
Within a port of rest had lodged me safe;
Safe from temptation, and from danger far?
Strains followed of acknowledgment addressed
To an Authority enthroned above 569
The reach of sight; from whom, as from their source,
Proceed all visible ministers of good
That walk the earth--Father of heaven and earth,
Father, and king, and judge, adored and feared!
These acts of mind, and memory, and heart,
And spirit--interrupted and relieved 575
By observations transient as the glance
Of flying sunbeams, or to the outward form
Cleaving with power inherent and intense,
As the mute insect fixed upon the plant 579
On whose soft leaves it hangs, and from whose cup
It draws its nourishment imperceptibly--[257]
Endeared my wanderings; and the mother's kiss
And infant's smile awaited my return.

"In privacy we dwelt, a wedded pair,
Companions daily, often all day long; 585
Not placed by fortune within easy reach
Of various intercourse, nor wishing aught
Beyond the allowance of our own fire-side,
The twain within our happy cottage born,
Inmates, and heirs of our united love; 590
Graced mutually by difference of sex,
And with[258] no wider interval of time
Between their several births than served for one
To establish something of a leader's sway;
Yet left them joined by sympathy in age; 595
Equals in pleasure, fellows in pursuit.
On these two pillars rested as in air
Our solitude.
"It soothes me to perceive,
Your courtesy withholds not from my words
Attentive audience. But, oh! gentle Friends, 600
As times of quiet and unbroken peace,
Though, for a nation, times of blessedness,
Give back faint echoes from the historian's page;
So, in the imperfect sounds of this discourse,
Depressed I hear, how faithless is the voice 605
Which those most blissful days reverberate.
What special record can, or need, be given
To rules and habits, whereby much was done,
But all within the sphere of little things;
Of humble, though, to us, important cares, 610
And precious interests? Smoothly did our life
Advance, swerving not[259] from the path prescribed;
Her annual, her diurnal, round alike
Maintained with faithful care. And you divine
The worst effects that[260] our condition saw 615
If you imagine changes slowly wrought,
And in their progress[261] unperceivable;[262]
Not wished for; sometimes noticed with a sigh,
(Whate'er of good or lovely they might bring)
Sighs of regret, for the familiar good 620
And loveliness endeared which they removed.

"Seven years of occupation undisturbed
Established seemingly a right to hold
That happiness; and use and habit gave
To what an alien spirit had acquired 625
A patrimonial sanctity. And thus,
With thoughts and wishes bounded to this world,
I lived and breathed; most grateful--if to enjoy
Without repining or desire for more,
For different lot, or change to higher sphere, 630
(Only except some impulses of pride
With no determined object, though upheld
By theories with suitable support)--
Most grateful, if in such wise to enjoy
Be proof of gratitude for what we have; 635
Else, I allow, most thankless.--But, at once,
From some dark seat of fatal power was urged
A claim that shattered all.--Our blooming girl,
Caught in the gripe of death, with such brief time
To struggle in as scarcely would allow 640
Her cheek to change its colour, was conveyed
From us to inaccessible worlds, to regions[263]
Where height, or depth, admits not the approach
Of living man, though longing to pursue.
--With even as brief a warning--and how soon, 645
With what short interval of time between,
I tremble yet to think of--our last prop,
Our happy life's only remaining stay--
The brother followed; and was seen no more![DK]

"Calm as a frozen lake when ruthless winds 650
Blow fiercely, agitating earth and sky,
The Mother now remained; as if in her,
Who, to the lowest region of the soul,
Had been erewhile unsettled and disturbed,
This second visitation had no power 655
To shake; but only to bind up and seal;
And to establish thankfulness of heart
In Heaven's determinations, ever just.
The eminence whereon[264] her spirit stood,
Mine was unable to attain. Immense 660
The space that severed us! But, as the sight
Communicates with heaven's ethereal orbs
Incalculably distant; so, I felt
That consolation may descend from far
(And that is intercourse, and union, too,) 665
While, overcome with speechless gratitude,
And, with a holier love inspired, I looked
On her--at once superior to my woes
And partner of my loss.--O heavy change!
Dimness o'er this clear luminary crept 670
Insensibly;--the immortal and divine
Yielded to mortal reflux; her pure glory,
As from the pinnacle of worldly state
Wretched ambition drops astounded, fell
Into a gulf obscure of silent grief, 675
And keen heart-anguish--of itself ashamed,
Yet obstinately cherishing itself:
And, so consumed, she melted from my arms;
And left me, on this earth, disconsolate!

"What followed cannot be reviewed in thought; 680
Much less, retraced in words. If she, of life
Blameless, so intimate with love and joy
And all the tender motions of the soul,
Had been supplanted, could I hope to stand--
Infirm, dependent, and now destitute? 685
I called on dreams and visions, to disclose
That which is veiled from waking thought; conjured
Eternity, as men constrain a ghost
To appear and answer; to the grave I spake
Imploringly;--looked up, and asked the Heavens 690
If Angels traversed their cerulean floors,
If fixed or wandering star could tidings yield
Of the departed spirit--what abode
It occupies--what consciousness retains
Of former loves and interests. Then my soul 695
Turned inward,--to examine of what stuff
Time's fetters are composed; and life was put
To inquisition, long and profitless!
By pain of heart--now checked--and now impelled--
The intellectual power, through words and things, 700
Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way![DL]
And from those transports, and these toils abstruse,
Some trace am I enabled to retain
Of time, else lost;--existing unto me
Only by records in myself not found. 705

"From that abstraction I was roused,--and how?
Even as a thoughtful shepherd by a flash
Of lightning startled in a gloomy cave
Of these wild hills. For, lo! the dread Bastile,[DM]
With all the chambers in its horrid towers, 710
Fell to the ground:--by violence overthrown
Of indignation; and with shouts that drowned
The crash it made in falling! From the wreck
A golden palace rose, or seemed to rise,
The appointed seat of equitable law 715
And mild paternal sway. The potent shock
I felt: the transformation I perceived,
As marvellously seized as in that moment
When, from the blind mist issuing, I beheld
Glory--beyond all glory ever seen, 720
Confusion infinite of heaven and earth,
Dazzling the soul. Meanwhile, prophetic harps
In every grove were ringing, 'War shall cease;
Did ye not hear that conquest is abjured?
Bring garlands, bring forth choicest flowers, to deck 725
The tree of Liberty.'[DN]--My heart rebounded;
My melancholy voice the chorus joined;
--'Be joyful all ye nations; in all lands,
Ye that are capable of joy be glad!
Henceforth, whate'er is wanting to yourselves 730
In others ye shall promptly find;--and all,
Enriched by mutual and reflected wealth,
Shall with one heart honour their common kind.'[265]

"Thus was I reconverted to the world;
Society became my glittering bride, 735
And airy hopes my children.--From the depths
Of natural passion, seemingly escaped,
My soul diffused herself[266] in wide embrace
Of institutions, and the forms of things,
As they exist, in mutable array, 740
Upon life's surface. What, though in my veins
There flowed no Gallic blood, nor had I breathed
The air of France, not less than Gallic zeal
Kindled and burnt among the sapless twigs
Of my exhausted heart. If busy men 745
In sober conclave met, to weave a web
Of amity, whose living threads should stretch
Beyond the seas, and to the farthest pole,
There did I sit, assisting. If, with noise
And acclamation, crowds in open air 750
Expressed the tumult of their minds, my voice
There mingled, heard or not. The powers of song
I left not uninvoked; and, in still groves,
Where mild enthusiasts tuned a pensive lay
Of thanks and expectation, in accord 755
With their belief, I sang Saturnian rule
Returned,--a progeny of golden years
Permitted to descend, and bless mankind.
--With promises the Hebrew Scriptures teem:
I felt their[267] invitation; and resumed 760
A long-suspended office in the House
Of public worship, where, the glowing phrase
Of ancient inspiration serving me,
I promised also,--with undaunted trust
Foretold, and added prayer to prophecy; 765
The admiration winning of the crowd;
The help desiring of the pure devout.

"Scorn and contempt forbid me to proceed!
But History, time's slavish scribe, will tell
How rapidly the zealots of the cause 770
Disbanded--or in hostile ranks appeared;
Some, tired of honest service; these, outdone,
Disgusted therefore, or appalled, by aims
Of fiercer zealots--so confusion reigned,
And the more faithful were compelled to exclaim, 775
As Brutus did to Virtue, 'Liberty,
I worshipped thee, and find thee but a Shade!'[DO]

"Such recantation had for me no charm,
Nor would I bend to it; who should have grieved
At aught, however fair, that[268] bore the mien 780
Of a conclusion, or catastrophe.
Why then conceal, that, when the simply[269] good
In timid selfishness withdrew, I sought
Other support, not scrupulous whence it came;
And, by what compromise it stood, not nice? 785
Enough if notions seemed to be high-pitched,
And qualities determined.--Among men
So charactered did I maintain a strife[270]
Hopeless, and still more hopeless every hour;
But, in the process, I began to feel 790
That, if the emancipation of the world
Were missed, I should at least secure my own,
And be in part compensated. For rights,
Widely--inveterately usurped upon,
I spake with vehemence; and promptly seized 795
All that[271] Abstraction furnished for my needs
Or purposes;[DP] nor scrupled to proclaim,
And propagate, by liberty of life,
Those new persuasions. Not that I rejoiced,
Or even found pleasure, in such vagrant course, 800
For its own sake; but farthest from the walk
Which I had trod in happiness and peace,
Was most inviting to a troubled mind;
That, in a struggling and distempered world,
Saw a seductive image of herself.[272] 805
Yet, mark the contradictions of which Man
Is still the sport! Here Nature was my guide,
The Nature of the dissolute; but thee,
O fostering Nature! I rejected--smiled
At others' tears in pity; and in scorn 810
At those, which thy soft influence sometimes drew
From my unguarded heart.--The tranquil shores
Of Britain circumscribed me; else, perhaps
I might have been entangled among deeds,
Which, now, as infamous, I should abhor-- 815
Despise, as senseless: for my spirit relished
Strangely the exasperation of that Land,
Which turned an angry beak against the down
Of her own breast; confounded into hope
Of disencumbering thus her fretful wings.[273] 820

"But all was quieted by iron bonds
Of military sway. The shifting aims,
The moral interests, the creative might,
The varied functions and high attributes
Of civil action, yielded to a power 825
Formal, and odious, and contemptible.
--In Britain, ruled a panic dread of change;
The weak were praised, rewarded, and advanced;
And, from the impulse of a just disdain,
Once more did I retire into myself. 830
There feeling no contentment, I resolved
To fly, for safeguard, to some foreign shore,
Remote from Europe; from her blasted hopes;
Her fields of carnage, and polluted air. 834

"Fresh blew the wind, when o'er the Atlantic Main
The ship went gliding with her thoughtless crew;
And who among them but an Exile, freed
From discontent, indifferent, pleased to sit
Among the busily-employed, not more
With obligation charged, with service taxed, 840
Than the loose pendant--to the idle wind
Upon the tall mast streaming. But, ye Powers
Of soul and sense mysteriously allied,
O, never let the Wretched, if a choice
Be left him, trust the freight of his distress 845
To a long voyage on the silent deep!
For, like a plague, will memory break out;
And, in the blank and solitude of things,
Upon his spirit, with a fever's strength,
Will conscience prey.--Feebly must they have felt 850
Who, in old time, attired with snakes and whips
The vengeful Furies. _Beautiful_ regards
Were turned on me--the face of her I loved;
The Wife and Mother pitifully fixing
Tender reproaches, insupportable! 855
Where now that boasted liberty? No welcome
From unknown objects I received; and those,
Known and familiar, which the vaulted sky
Did, in the placid clearness of the night,
Disclose, had accusations to prefer 860
Against my peace. Within the cabin stood
That volume--as a compass for the soul--
Revered among the nations. I implored
Its guidance; but the infallible support
Of faith was wanting. Tell me, why refused 865
To One by storms annoyed and adverse winds;
Perplexed with currents; of his weakness sick;
Of vain endeavours tired; and by his own,
And by his nature's, ignorance, dismayed! 869

"Long wished-for sight, the Western World appeared;
And, when the ship was moored, I leaped ashore
Indignantly--resolved to be a man,
Who, having o'er the past no power, would live
No longer in subjection to the past,
With abject mind--from a tyrannic lord 875
Inviting penance, fruitlessly endured:
So, like a fugitive, whose feet have cleared
Some boundary, which his followers may not cross
In prosecution of their deadly chase,
Respiring I looked round.--How bright the sun, 880
The breeze how soft! Can any thing produced[274]
In the old World compare, thought I, for power
And majesty with this gigantic stream,
Sprung from the desert?[DQ] And behold a city 884
Fresh, youthful, and aspiring![DR] What are these
To me, or I to them? As much at least
As he desires that they should be, whom winds
And waves have wafted to this distant shore,
In the condition of a damaged seed,
Whose fibres cannot, if they would, take root. 890
Here may I roam at large;--my business is,
Roaming at large, to observe, and not to feel
And, therefore, not to act--convinced that all
Which bears the name of action, howsoe'er
Beginning, ends in servitude--still painful, 895
And mostly profitless. And, sooth to say,
On nearer view, a motley spectacle
Appeared, of high pretensions--unreproved
But by the obstreperous voice of higher still;
Big passions strutting on a petty stage; 900
Which a detached spectator may regard
Not unamused.--But ridicule demands
Quick change of objects; and, to laugh alone,
At a composing distance[275] from the haunts
Of strife and folly, though it be a treat 905
As choice as musing Leisure can bestow;
Yet, in the very centre of the crowd,
To keep the secret of a poignant scorn,
Howe'er to airy Demons suitable,
Of all unsocial courses, is least fit[276] 910
For the gross spirit of mankind,--the one
That soonest fails to please, and quickliest turns
Into vexation.
"Let us, then, I said,
Leave this unknit Republic to the scourge
Of her[277] own passions; and to regions haste, 915
Whose shades have never felt the encroaching axe,
Or soil endured a transfer in the mart
Of dire rapacity. There, Man abides,
Primeval Nature's child. A creature weak
In combination, (wherefore else driven back 920
So far, and of his old inheritance
So easily deprived?) but, for that cause,
More dignified, and stronger in himself;
Whether to act, judge, suffer, or enjoy.
True, the intelligence of social art 925
Hath overpowered his forefathers, and soon
Will sweep the remnant of his line away;
But contemplations, worthier, nobler far
Than her destructive energies, attend
His independence, when along the side 930
Of Mississippi, or that northern stream[DS]
That[278] spreads into successive seas,[DT] he walks;
Pleased to perceive his own unshackled life,
And his innate capacities of soul,
There imaged: or when, having gained the top 935
Of some commanding eminence, which yet
Intruder ne'er beheld, he thence surveys
Regions of wood and wide savannah, vast
Expanse of unappropriated earth,
With mind that sheds a light on what he sees; 940
Free as the sun, and lonely as the sun,
Pouring above his head its radiance down
Upon a living and rejoicing world!

"So, westward, tow'rd the unviolated woods
I bent my way; and, roaming far and wide, 945
Failed not to greet the merry Mocking-bird;[DU]
And, while the melancholy Muccawiss
(The sportive bird's companion in the grove)
Repeated, o'er and o'er, his plaintive cry,[DV]
I sympathised at leisure with the sound; 950
But that pure archetype of human greatness,
I found him not. There, in his stead, appeared
A creature, squalid, vengeful, and impure;
Remorseless, and submissive to no law
But superstitious fear, and abject sloth. 955

"Enough is told! Here am I--ye have heard
What evidence I seek, and vainly seek;
What from my fellow-beings I require,
And either they have not to give, or I
Lack virtue to receive; what I myself, 960
Too oft by wilful forfeiture, have lost[279]
Nor can regain. How languidly I look
Upon this visible fabric of the world,
May be divined--perhaps it hath been said:--
But spare your pity, if there be in me 965
Aught that deserves respect: for I exist,
Within myself, not comfortless.--The tenour
Which my life holds, he readily may conceive
Whoe'er hath stood to watch a mountain brook
In some still passage of its course, and seen, 970
Within the depths of its capacious breast,
Inverted trees, rocks, clouds, and azure sky;[280]
And, on its glassy surface, specks of foam,
And conglobated bubbles undissolved,
Numerous as stars; that, by their onward lapse, 975
Betray to sight the motion of the stream,
Else imperceptible. Meanwhile, is heard
A softened roar, or murmur;[281] and the sound
Though soothing, and the little floating isles
Though beautiful, are both by Nature charged 980
With the same pensive office; and make known
Through what perplexing labyrinths, abrupt
Precipitations, and untoward straits,
The earth-born wanderer hath passed; and quickly,
That respite o'er, like traverses and toils 985
Must he again encounter.[282]--Such a stream
Is human Life; and so the Spirit fares
In the best quiet to her[283] course allowed;
And such is mine,--save only for a hope
That my particular current soon will reach 990
The unfathomable gulf, where all is still!"

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 211: 1827.

... the ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 212: 1836.

A place of refuge seeking ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 213: 1827.

... it draws its ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 214: 1814.

... his ... 1832.

1845 returns to 1814.
]

[Footnote 215: 1827.

... At the word
We followed where he led:--a sudden turn 1814.
]

[Footnote 216: 1827.

...yet thereon appeared
Conspicuously stationed, one fair Plant, 1814.
]

[Footnote 217: 1827.

...which ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 218: 1827.

You have decried, in no unseemly terms
Of modesty, that wealth which is your own. 1814.
]

[Footnote 219: 1827.

I cannot but incline to a belief
That in these shows ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 220: 1827.

... should perhaps have blamed myself, 1814.
]

[Footnote 221: 1827.

... lurked 1814.
]

[Footnote 222: 1827.

... look around me, 1814.
]

[Footnote 223: 1827.

... deemed,
Is He (if such have ever entered here)
The wandering Herbalist,-- ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 224: 1827.

... vexing thoughts,
Casts on these uncouth Forms ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 225: 1827.

Of every luckless rock or stone that stands
Before his sight, by weather-stains disguised,
Or crusted o'er with vegetation thin,
Nature's first growth, ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 226: 1827.

Doth to the substance give some barbarous name,
Then ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 227: 1845.

... if haply interveined 1814.
]

[Footnote 228: 1827.

This earnest Pair may range from hill to hill,
And, ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 229: 1845.

... no pain is in their sport." 1814.
]

[Footnote 230: 1827.

Framed ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 231: 1814.

Nor for ... 1827.

The text of 1845 returns to that of 1814.]

[Footnote 232: 1827.

As sound; with that blithe race who wore erewhile
Their golden Grasshoppers, in sign that they
Had sprung from out the soil whereon they dwelt. 1814.
]

[Footnote 233: 1827.

On serious minds; for doubtless, in one sense,
The theme _is_ serious; then, as Hindoos draw 1814.
]

[Footnote 234: 1827.

... its ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 235: 1827.

... or, if such may seem
Its tendency, to be engulphed and lost 1814.
]

[Footnote 236: 1827.

... thereby ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 237: 1845.

... be ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 238: 1814.

Embellished by sweet flowers, by springs refreshed. C.
]

[Footnote 239: 1836.

Thus I exclaimed, "no sadness sheds on me, 1814.
]

[Footnote 240: 1827.

Yes," said I, "shall the immunities to which
She doth lay claim, the precepts she bestows, 1814.
]

[Footnote 241: 1827.

Did place, in ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 242: 1845.

... memory are as one;
Earth quiet and unchanged; the human Soul 1814.
]

[Footnote 243: 1845.

Such was their scheme:--thrice happy he who gained
The end proposed! And,--though the same were missed
By multitudes, perhaps obtained by none,--
They, for the attempt, and for the pains employed, 1814.
]

[Footnote 244: 1832.

... its ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 245: 1836.

But that which was serene ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 246: Italics were first used in 1836.]

[Footnote 247: 1827.

Sharp contradictions hourly shall arise
To cross the way; and we, perchance, by doom
Of this same life, shall be compelled to grieve 1814.
]

[Footnote 248: Italics were first used in 1832.]

[Footnote 249: 1827.

With sorrowful events; and we, who heard
And saw, were moved. Desirous to divert, 1814.

With trouble, conflict that he seeks and shuns
With the same breath, desirous to divert C.
]

[Footnote 250: 1827.

... which seemed
A nook for self-examination framed, 1814.
]

[Footnote 251: 1827.

Towards ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 252: 1836.

... thus his speech ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 253: 1836.

I would not yet be ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 254: 1827.

... its ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 255: 1827.

Of willingness with which ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 256: 1845.

But in due season Nature interfered,
And called my Partner to resign her share
In the pure freedom of that wedded life, 1814.

But Nature called my Partner to resign
Her share in the pure freedom of that life, 1827.
]

[Footnote 257: 1845.

Draws imperceptibly its nourishment,-- 1814.
]

[Footnote 258: 1845.

... of sex,
By the endearing names of nature bound,
And with ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 259: 1836.

... not swerving ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 260: 1827.

... which ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 261: 1814.

... process ... 1850.
]

[Footnote 262: 1845.

... imperceptible, 1814.
]

[Footnote 263: 1845.

From us, to regions inaccessible; 1814.
]

[Footnote 264: 1845.

... on which ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 265: 1832.

"Be rich by mutual and reflected wealth." 1814.
]

[Footnote 266: 1827.

... itself ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 267: 1840.

... the ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 268: 1827.

... which ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 269: 1827.

... simple ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 270: 1827.

And qualities determined.--Ruling such,
And with such herding, I maintained a strife 1814.

]

[Footnote 271: 1836.

Whate'er 1814.
]

[Footnote 272: 1827.

Beheld a cherished image of itself. 1814.

Beheld a seductive image of herself. MS.
]

[Footnote 273: 1827.

... for I strangely relished
The exasperated spirit of that Land,
Which turned an angry beak against the down
Of its own breast; as if it hoped, thereby,
To disencumber its impatient wings. 1814.
]

[Footnote 274: 1845.

How promising the Breeze! Can aught produced 1814.
]

[Footnote 275: 1827.

... and, to laugh alone,
In woods and wilds, or any lonely place,
At a composing distance ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 276: 1827.

May suit an airy Demon; but, of all
Unsocial courses, 'tis the one least fit 1814.
]

[Footnote 277: 1827.

... its ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 278: 1827.

Which ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 279: 1845.

... I require,
And cannot find; what I myself have lost, 1814.
]

[Footnote 280: 1836.

Inverted trees, and rocks, and azure sky; 1814.
]

[Footnote 281: 1836.

Perchance, a roar or murmur; ... 1814.

A softened roar, a murmur; ... 1827.

... Meanwhile, a roar
Is heard or soften'd murmur; ... MS.
]

[Footnote 282: 1845.

Must be again encountered.-- ... 1814.
]

[Footnote 283: 1836.

... its ... 1814.
]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote CS: There is still a single "yew-tree" high up the eastern side of the valley on the face of Lingmoor Fell,

Darkening the silver bosom of the crag. ED.
]

[Footnote CT: The local allusions in this passage, and in what follows, are most exact and literal. The three men are supposed to leave the cottage, and to cross to the west side of the tarn, just a little to the north of the fir-wood which overshadows it. The "barrier of steep rock" is the low perpendicular crag to the west of the tarn, immediately below the fir-wood, and the "semicirque of turf-clad ground" is apparent at a glance, whether seen from below the rock or from above it. There are many fragments of ice-borne rock, high up the flank of Blake Rigg to the west, and on the slopes of Lingmoor to the east, which might at first sight be mistaken for the stone, like

A stranded ship, with keel upturned, that rests
Fearless of winds and waves,

or the

fragment, like an altar;

but this particular mass of rock lay

Right at the foot of that moist precipice,

and there it still lies, obvious enough even to the casual eye. The "semicirque" is the cup-shaped recess between the fir-wood and the cliff; and on entering it, the mass of rock is seen lying north-west to north-east. It is not ice-borne, but a fragment dislodged from the crag above it. It is now broken into three smaller fragments, by the weathering of many years. Cracked probably when it fell, the rents have widened, and the fragments are separated by the frosts of many winters. A sycamore of average size is now growing at its side; its root being in the cleft, where the stone is broken. Holly grows luxuriantly all along the face of the crag above; so that the existence of the bush, described as growing in the stone which resembled an altar, is easily explained. The brook is a short one, flowing through the meadow-pastures of the wood, and after a hundred yards is lost in the turfy slope, but is seen again upon the face of the "moist precipice," "softly creeping"--precisely as described in the poem. The "three several stones" that "stand near" are, I think, the one to the front, in a line with the keel of the ship; and the other two to the right and left respectively. The "pair," with the "fragment like an altar, flat and smooth," are to the left, and close at hand.

In connection with all this a remark of Southey's to J. Neville White may be quoted. "Keswick, September 7, 1814.... Have you read Wordsworth's poem? If not, read it, if you can, before you see the author. You will see him with the more pleasure, and look with more interest at the scenery he describes." (_Selections from the Letters of Robert Southey_, vol. ii. p. 376.)--ED.]

[Footnote CU: Lady Richardson writes thus of a visit Wordsworth paid to Lancrigg in 1841:--"We took a walk on the terrace, and he went as usual to his favourite points. On our return he was struck with the berries on the holly tree, and said, 'Why should not you and I go and pull some berries from the other side of the tree, which is not seen from the window? and then we can go and plant them in the rocky ground behind the house.' We pulled the berries, and set forth with our tools. I made the holes, and the poet put in the berries. He was as earnest and eager about it as if it had been a matter of importance, and, as he put the seeds in, he every now and then muttered, in his low, solemn tone, that beautiful verse from Burns' _Vision_:--

'And wear thou this,' she solemn said,
And bound the holly round my head:
The polish'd leaves, and berries red,
Did rustling play;
And, like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.

He clambered to the highest rocks in the 'Tom Intak,' and put in the berries in such situations as Nature sometimes does, with such true and beautiful effect. He said, 'I like to do this for posterity.'"--ED.]

[Footnote CV:

--Voiceless the stream descends ...
With timid lapse ...

is a perfect description of this tiniest and gentlest of rills, flowing through the meadow-grass; while the "chasm of sky above," of which the Wanderer speaks, though an obvious exaggeration, is more appropriate to this spot than to any other in the vale.--ED.]

[Footnote CW: See Wordsworth's note, p. 385.--ED.]

[Footnote CX: Stonehenge. Old legends gave it a mythic origin. Geoffrey of Monmouth attributed it to Merlin, the stones having been brought over from Ireland by magic. It was not a Druid Temple, but a Saxon ring, set up--after the Romans had left Britain--for parliamentary and coronation purposes. "Roman pottery and coins have been found under the stones, and they are fitted with mortice and tenon, an art unknown in Britain till it was taught by the Romans." Compare Dryden's _Epistle to Dr. Charleton_ (Ep. II.)

Stonehenge, once thought a temple, you have found
A throne, where kings, our earthly Gods, were crown'd.

and Henry Crabb Robinson's account of a visit to Stonehenge, in the second volume of his _Diary and Correspondence_, p. 230.--ED.]

[Footnote CY: This must refer to Palmyra. The Baalbec ruins are, for the most part, not marble, but limestone.--ED.]

[Footnote CZ: The Navagos and several other American tribes have this legend; but see Note B in the Appendix to this volume, p. 392.--ED.]

[Footnote DA: Before the time of Solon, the Athenians wore golden τέττιγες--probably either brooches, or pins with a golden cicada for the head--as a sign that they considered themselves αὐτόχθονες, since the grasshopper τέττιξ (cicada) was supposed to spring out of the ground.--ED.]

[Footnote DB: The Ganges--sacred river of India--rising in the snow-clad Himalaya, was believed to have a celestial origin.--ED.]

[Footnote DC: The great river of Western Africa, which was supposed, until recent geographical discovery, to lose itself in the sand.--ED.]

[Footnote DE: Compare _The Prelude_, book viii. I. 133 (see vol. iii. p. 276). Also _In Memoriam_, stanza xxiii.--

And round us all the thicket rang
To many a flute of Arcady. ED.
]

[Footnote DF: The end sought by Epicurus, the _summum bonum_ of the Epicurean school, was ἀταραξία, repose or peace of mind. This was to be obtained by freedom from pain of body or distraction of mind; but it consisted in the harmony or equilibrium that resulted, when disturbing influences were withdrawn. To attain to it, little was needed--mental enjoyments being superior to bodily ones, and the social joys of friendship the highest of all. Public life was renounced, and private friendship became the bond of union amongst the members of the Epicurean confraternity: but the root principle of the system was emotional, not intellectual.--ED.]

[Footnote DG: Rational self-control being regarded as the chief good by the Stoics, the emotion of happiness was looked upon as an interruption of the equilibrium in which the wise man should live. All the emotions were diseases, or disturbances of human nature less or more. They had therefore to be uprooted, rather than regulated: and virtue consisted in being emotionless, passionless, apathetic, with life conformed to the laws of the pure reason, so that one came to be

A reasoning self-sufficing thing,
An intellectual all-in-all. ED.
]

[Footnote DH: Compare the No. vi. Sonnet on _The Trosachs_ (ll. 1-5), in "Yarrow Revisited, and other Poems" (1831).--ED.]

[Footnote DI: These are reminiscences of Wordsworth's life at Racedown and Alfoxden. His sister wrote thus of their residence at Alfoxden:--"We are three miles from Stowey, and not two miles from the sea. Wherever we turn we have woods, smooth downs, and valleys with small brooks running down them, through green meadows, hardly ever intersected with hedgerows, but scattered over with trees. The hills that cradle these valleys are either covered with fern and bilberries, or oak woods, which are cut for charcoal.... Walks extend for miles over the hill-tops; the great beauty of which is their wild simplicity: they are perfectly smooth, without rocks."--_Memoirs of William Wordsworth_, by his nephew Christopher Wordsworth, late Bishop of Lincoln, vol. i. p. 103.--ED.]

[Footnote DJ: See the note on the preceding page.--ED.]

[Footnote DK: Wordsworth's own children, Catherine and Thomas, were removed by death, in a manner very similar to this, in June and December 1812, while they were living in the Grasmere Parsonage. Compare the two sonnets--

Surprised by joy--impatient as the Wind,

(1815)

and

Desponding Father! mark this altered bough,

(1835).--ED.]

[Footnote DL: Compare _The Borderers_, act IV. 11. 124, 125 (see vol. i. p. 198)--

Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
Through words and things, a dim and perilous way. ED.
]

[Footnote DM: See _The Prelude_, book ix. 1. 68 (vol. iii. p. 295).--ED.]

[Footnote DN: During the American War of Independence, trees were planted as symbols of freedom. This custom passed over to France. The Jacobins planted the first tree of Liberty in Paris in 1790, and the practice spread rapidly. At each revolutionary period it was revived, and during the Empire again suppressed. A treatise has been written on the custom, by the Abbé Grégoire.--ED.]

[Footnote DO: It is recorded by Dion Cassius (see _Dionis Cassii Cocceiani Historiarum Romanarum quae supersunt_, lib. xlvii. § 49) that Brutus before his death repeated this saying of Hercules,

O misera virtus, nomen inane. Te quidem
Ceu rem colebam; at serva tu Fortunae eras. ED.
]

[Footnote DP: "At the commencement of the French Revolution, in the remotest villages every tongue was employed in echoing and enforcing the almost geometrical abstractions of the physiocratic politicians and economists. The public roads were crowded with armed enthusiasts disputing on the inalienable sovereignty of the people, the imprescriptible laws of the pure reason, and the universal constitution, which, as rising out of the nature and rights of man as man, all nations alike were under the obligation of adopting."-S.T. Coleridge, _The Statesman's Manual, a Lay Sermon_ (1816), p. 19.--ED.]

[Footnote DQ: The Hudson river, some of the sources of which rise in the Adirondack wilderness.--ED.]

[Footnote DR: New York.--ED.]

[Footnote DS: See Wordsworth's note, p. 386.--ED.]

[Footnote DT: The St. Lawrence.--ED.]

[Footnote DU: "The Mocking Bird (_Turdus polyglottus_, Linn.), the American nightingale. He has a voice full, strong, and musical, and capable of almost every modulation, from the clear mellow tones of the Wood Thrush, to the savage scream of the Bald Eagle. In measure and accent he faithfully follows his originals. In force and sweetness of expression he greatly improves upon them. In his native groves, his song rises pre-eminent over every competitor. Neither is his strain altogether imitative. His notes are bold and full, and varied seemingly beyond all limits. They consist of short expressions of two, three, or, at the most, five or six syllables; generally interspersed with imitations, and all of them uttered with great emphasis and rapidity, and continued with undiminished ardour for half an hour, or an hour at a time."--_American Ornithology_, by Wilson, Bonaparte, and Jardine, vol. i. p. 164, etc.--ED.]

[Footnote DV: I was indebted to Mr. Edward B. Tylor, and also to the Rev. Charles M. Addison, of Arlington, Mass., for identifying the "melancholy Muccawiss" as the Whip-poor-will (_Caprimulgus vociferus_, or _Antrostomus vociferus_). "Their melancholy night song has led some Indians to consider them the souls of ancestors killed in battle."--Mr. Tylor. For letters in reference to the Muccawiss, see Note C in the Appendix to this volume, p. 393; and compare Charles Waterton's _Wanderings in South America_, etc. etc. (1828), and Wordsworth's poem, _A Morning Exercise_, written in 1828.

Since Messrs. Tylor, Addison, and Col. Trumbull identified the Muccawiss with the Whip-poor-will, I have had access to the original MSS. of _The Excursion_; and have found that the point which is discussed--in the above note and in Note C in the Appendix--is set conclusively at rest, by one of the earlier (discarded) readings of the text in Wordsworth's own handwriting.

"and verily was cheered
By the blithe Mocking Bird, and heard alone
The melancholy cry of whip-pow-will."

Another version of the last line is also given,

"The plaintive cry repeated whip-poor-will."

I entertain no doubt that Wordsworth first of all met with the name of this bird, whip-pow-will, in Waterton's _Wanderings_ (a copy of which he possessed), and that he afterwards exchanged it--before sending his _Excursion_ to press, in 1814--for the more musical Indian name, Muccawiss.

It is also worthy of note that Southey had transferred to his _Commonplace Book_ (see vol. ii. p. 567), Carver's account of the Whipper-will, or as it is termed by the Indians, Muckawiss. "As soon as night comes on these birds will place themselves on the fences, stumps, or stones that lie near some house, and repeat their melancholy note without any variation till midnight." (_Travels_, by Jonathan Carver, p. 467.)--ED.]

=Book Fourth=

DESPONDENCY CORRECTED

ARGUMENT

_State of feeling produced by the foregoing Narrative--A belief
in a superintending Providence the only adequate support
under affliction--Wanderer's ejaculation[284]--Acknowledges
the difficulty of a lively faith--Hence immoderate
sorrow[285]--Exhortations--How received--Wanderer applies[286]
his discourse to that other cause of dejection in the Solitary's
mind--Disappointment from[287] the French Revolution--States
grounds[288] of hope, and insists[289] on the necessity of
patience and fortitude with respect to the course of great
revolutions[290]--Knowledge the source of tranquillity--Rural
Solitude favourable to[291] knowledge of the inferior Creatures;
Study of their habits and ways recommended;[292] exhortation
to bodily exertion and communion[293] with Nature--Morbid
Solitude pitiable[294]--Superstition better than apathy--Apathy
and destitution unknown in the infancy of society--The
various modes of Religion prevented it--Illustrated[295] in
the Jewish, Persian, Babylonian, Chaldean, and Grecian modes
of belief--Solitary interposes--Wanderer[296] points out the
influence of religious and imaginative feeling in the humble
ranks of society, illustrated[297] from present and past
times--These principles[298] tend to recal exploded superstitions
and popery--Wanderer rebuts this charge, and contrasts the
dignities of the Imagination with the presumptuous[299]
littleness of certain modern Philosophers--Recommends[300] other
lights and guides--Asserts the power of the Soul to regenerate
herself; Solitary asks how[301]--Reply--Personal appeal[302]--
Exhortation to activity of body renewed--How to commune with
Nature--Wanderer concludes with a[303] legitimate union of the
imagination, affections, understanding, and reason[304]--Effect
of his discourse[305]--Evening; return to the Cottage._

Here closed the Tenant of that lonely vale
His mournful narrative--commenced in pain,
In pain commenced, and ended without peace:
Yet tempered, not unfrequently, with strains
Of native feeling, grateful to our minds; 5
And yielding surely[306] some relief to his,
While we sate listening with compassion due.
A pause of silence followed; then, with voice
That did not falter though the heart was moved,[307]
The Wanderer said:--
"One adequate support 10
For the calamities of mortal life
Exists--one only; an assured belief
That the procession of our fate, howe'er
Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being
Of infinite benevolence and power; 15
Whose everlasting purposes embrace
All accidents, converting them to good.
--The darts of anguish _fix_ not where the seat
Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified
By acquiescence in the Will supreme 20
For time and for eternity; by faith,
Faith absolute in God, including hope,
And the defence that lies in boundless love
Of his perfections; with habitual dread
Of aught unworthily conceived, endured 25
Impatiently, ill-done, or left undone,
To the dishonour of his holy name.
Soul of our Souls, and safeguard of the world!
Sustain, thou only canst, the sick of heart;
Restore their languid spirits, and recal 30
Their lost affections unto thee and thine!"[DW]

Then, as we issued from that covert nook,
He thus continued, lifting up his eyes
To heaven:--"How beautiful this dome of sky;
And the vast hills, in fluctuation fixed 35
At thy command, how awful! Shall the Soul,
Human and rational, report of thee
Even less than these?--Be mute who will, who can,
Yet I will praise thee with impassioned voice:
My lips, that may forgot[*printer's error?] thee in the crowd, 40
Cannot forget thee here; where thou hast built,
For thy own glory, in the wilderness!
Me didst thou constitute a priest of thine,
In such a temple as we now behold
Reared for thy presence: therefore, am I bound 45
To worship, here, and every where--as one
Not doomed to ignorance, though forced to tread,
From childhood up, the ways of poverty;
From unreflecting ignorance preserved,
And from debasement rescued.--By thy grace 50
The particle divine remained unquenched;
And, 'mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil,
Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers,
From paradise transplanted: wintry age
Impends; the frost will gather round my heart; 55
If the flowers wither,[308] I am worse than dead!
--Come, labour, when the worn-out frame requires
Perpetual sabbath; come, disease and want;
And sad exclusion through decay of sense;
But leave me unabated trust in thee-- 60
And let thy favour, to the end of life,
Inspire me with ability to seek
Repose and hope among eternal things--
Father of heaven and earth! and I am rich,
And will possess my portion in content! 65