Chapter XVI: Part II: I (1)

With nodding plumes, and lightly drest
Like foresters in leaf-green vest,
The Helvetian Mountaineers, on ground
For Tell's dread archery renowned, 60
Before the target stood--to claim
The guerdon of the steadiest aim.
Loud was the rifle-gun's report--
A startling thunder quick and short!
But, flying through the heights around, 65
Echo prolonged a tell-tale sound
Of hearts and hands alike "prepared
The treasures they enjoy to guard!"
And, if there be a favoured hour
When Heroes are allowed to quit 70
The tomb, and on the clouds to sit
With tutelary power,
On their Descendants shedding grace--
This was the hour, and that the place.

II

But Truth inspired the Bards of old 75
When of an iron age they told,
Which to unequal laws gave birth,
And[524] drove Astræa from the earth.[IF]
--A gentle Boy (perchance with blood
As noble as the best endued, 80
But seemingly a Thing despised;
Even by the sun and air unprized;
For not a tinge or flowery streak
Appeared upon his tender cheek)
Heart-deaf to those rebounding notes, 85
Apart, beside his silent goats,
Sate watching in a forest shed,
Pale, ragged, with bare feet and head;[525]
Mute as the snow upon the hill,
And, as the saint he prays to, still. 90
Ah, what avails heroic deed?
What liberty? if no defence
Be won for feeble Innocence.
Father of all! though wilful Manhood read[526]
His punishment in soul-distress, 95
Grant to the morn of life its natural blessedness![IG]

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 520: 1827.

Of plaster-craft ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 521: 1837.

... and free 1822.
]

[Footnote 522: 1827.

... _he_ whose look 1822.
]

[Footnote 523: 1827.

When Pity's unasked alms were given. 1822.
]

[Footnote 524: 1837.

That ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 525: 1840.

Heart-deaf to those rebounding notes
Of pleasure, by his silent Goats--
Sate far apart in forest shed,
Pale, ragged, bare his feet and head, 1822.

Heart-deaf to those rebounding notes
Sate watching by his silent Goats,
Apart within a forest shed,
Pale, ragged, with bare feet and head; 1832.

He to those oft-rebounding notes
Heart-deaf, beside his silent goats
Sate watching in a forest shed,
Pale, ragged, with bare feet and head; 1837.
]

[Footnote 526: 1827.

... if wilful Man must read 1822.
]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote IE: In the favourite representations of the carrying off of Ganymede, the eagle of Zeus bore him in its talons to the skies. There was a famous statue representing this by Leochares (B.C. 372), which is described in Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxxiv. 19, and of which there is a copy at the Vatican. See Perry's _Greek and Roman Sculpture_, p. 463.--ED.]

[Footnote IF: The gods in the golden age were wishing to abide on earth, but as degeneracy ensued, one by one they left. Astræa or Justice was the last to depart--

... Virgo caede madentes,
Ultima coelestum, terras Astraea reliquit.

Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, i. 149.

See also Virgil, _Georgics_, ii. 473.--ED.]

[Footnote IG: "Thursday, Sept. 7. Cadenabbia.--A glorious morning. Mists belting the mountains, and casting silvery garments of all shapes over and around them, now veiling and now unveiling the rocks, the Lake dancing below. All that this Paradise had lost yesterday, restored and more than restored. At about 7 o'clock, D. and I set forward to walk toward Menaggio. Wm. soon overtook us, and we were joined by an interesting man, an inhabitant of the neighbourhood, who walked by our side, and spoke in commendation of our countrymen in opposition to his own, whom he did not scruple to say had no honesty about them in their dealings with Foreigners; nor, indeed, in bargaining with each other.... He spoke English very well; had passed twenty years at different times in England, in the course of twenty-five years; his journeys there cost him about three guineas each time; had there realized _£_2000, by selling telescopes and weather glasses, etc.... Our travelling merchant joined us again, he pointed out his farm with much glee." This extract does not seem very relevant, but it is the only passage in Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal recording an incident which _might_ have given rise to _The Italian Itinerant_.

Dorothy Wordsworth gives the following fuller account of the same person. "Thursday, 6th September. Cadenabbia.--After a night of heavy rain, a bright morning. W., M., and I set off toward Menaggio along the terrace bordering the water, which led us to the bay at the foot of the rocky green hill of the Church of our Lady; and there we came upon the track of the old road, the very _same_ which my Brother had paced! for there was no other, nor the possibility of one. That track, continued from the foot of the mountain, leads behind the town of Cadenabbia, cutting off the bending of the shore by which we had come to this point. From the bare precipice, we pass through shade and sunshine, among spreading vines, slips of green turf, or gardens of melons, gourds, maize, and fig-trees among the rocks; it was but for a little space, yet enough to make our regret even more lively than before that it had not been in our power to coast one reach at least of the lake on foot. We had been overtaken by a fine tall man, who somewhat proudly addressed us in English. After twenty years' traffic in our country he had been settled near his native place on the Banks of Como, having purchased an estate near Cadenabbia with the large sum of two thousand pounds, acquired by selling barometers, looking-glasses, etc. He had been used to return to his wife every third year in the month of October. He made preparations during the winter for fresh travels in the spring, at the same time working with her on the small portion of land which they then possessed. Portsmouth and Plymouth were the grand marts for his wares. He amused us with recitals of adventures among the sailors who used to bully him with, 'Come, you rogue, you get your money easily enough; spend it freely!' and he did not care if he got rid of a guinea or two; for he was sure to have it back again after one of the frolics--and much more. They would often clear away his whole stock of nick-nacks. This industrious trader used to travel on foot at the rate of from thirty to forty miles a day, and his expenses from London to Como were but three guineas, though it cost him one third of that sum to get to Calais. He said he liked England because the people were _honest_, and told us some stories illustrative of English honesty and Italian over-reaching in bargains. This amusing and, I must say, interesting companion, turned from us by a side-path before we reached Menaggio, saying he would meet us again, as our road would lead us near his cottage on the heights, and he should see us from the fields. He had another dwelling on his estate beside Cadenabbia, where the land produced excellent wine. The produce of his farm on the _hills_ was chiefly hay, which they were then gathering in."

The _Swiss Goatherd_ was a boy met by the travellers at Brunnen. Mrs. Wordsworth thus wrote of him in her Journal:--"20th Aug.--... Mountains rising through vapour into the sky in front, and looking back, the two Mythen towering in great majesty. The Peasants, inhabitants of these paradisaical retreats, very civil, and seemed gratified by our eagerness in quest of the interests they live among. Young men, seated in one of these spacious sheds, making merry after having ended their diversions. The target seen everywhere. In one of the sheds as we ascended, found four goats chewing the cud, a little boy attending, all on the bench. He looked so pensive that we became much interested about him, but D. could not make him understand a single word. William gave him 1/2 a ----; for which unexpected and unsolicited gift the boy thanked him 'a hundred thousand times.' I afterwards gave him a second piece, and the same expression of thanks was repeated. The longer we looked at the subdued countenance of this little Boy, the more we felt for his solitary condition. Here, with those four mute companions, he had passed his day. The beauty of the scenery he was among was nothing to him; and no doubt he knew of and had heard the sound of the merriment in the vales below. When we repassed the shed, it was empty." (Journal, vol. ii.)

In Dorothy Wordsworth's briefer record of the same incident, the following occurs:--"In one of these [sheds] we found four goats (how bright in the cool shade) beside their keeper, then sitting on the bench, an elegant-featured Boy--dark like an Italian, ragged, silent, pensive, and timid. We gave him a few rapps, still he was silent; then a few more, and he pronounced in German four words intelligible to English ears, 'a hundred thousand thanks'; but his pale cheek wanted the ready smile of the beggar's. It seemed as if none of his pleasures were social, except what he might have with his dumb companions." (Journal, vol. ii.)

With this poem compare Smollett's _Ode to Leven Water_, and see note to l. 448 of _Descriptive Sketches_.--ED.]

XXV

THE LAST SUPPER, BY LEONARDO DA VINCI, IN THE REFECTORY OF THE CONVENT OF MARIA DELLA GRAZIA--MILAN

Tho' searching damps and many an envious flaw
Have marred this Work; the calm ethereal grace,
The love deep-seated in the Saviour's face,
The mercy, goodness, have not failed to awe
The Elements; as they do melt and thaw 5
The heart of the Beholder--and erase
(At least for one rapt moment) every trace
Of disobedience to the primal law.
The annunciation of the dreadful truth
Made to the Twelve, survives: lip, forehead, cheek,[527] 10
And hand reposing on the board in ruth
Of what it utters,[IH] while the unguilty seek
Unquestionable meanings--still bespeak
A labour worthy of eternal youth!

_Though searching damps and many an envious flaw
Have marred this Work_;

This picture of the Last Supper has not only been grievously injured by time, but the greatest part of it, if not the whole, is said to have been retouched, or painted over again. These niceties may be left to connoisseurs,--I speak of it as I felt. The copy exhibited in London some years ago, and the engraving by Merghen, are both admirable; but in the original is a power which neither of those works has attained, or even approached.--W. W. 1837.

"Sunday, Sept. 3. Milan.--... Thence we went again to the Cathedral, and to I know not how many different churches: St. Ambrose, very old and interesting, fine frescoes. St. Maria della Grazia, where, in the Refectory, is the exquisite picture of Leonardo da Vinci; but how grievous that it should have been so injured by the brutality of the French soldiers; yet, in its state of decay, what a Treasure! and how little everything that we have seen of Pictures is to be compared to the truth, the chasteness, and the composure that you see, and not only see, but _feel_, when seated before that sublime work of human art. The countenance of our Saviour sinks into your soul. Happily this is uninjured, as are also the heads of several of the Apostles, but some are quite extinguished." (From Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)

"Sunday, 2nd September. Milan.--Went also to the convent of Maria della Grazia to view that most famous picture of the Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci, painted on the wall at one end of the refectory, a very large hall, hung along the sides with smaller pictures, and, at the other end, that painting of the crucifixion of which we had seen a copy at Lugano. This Refectory was used, in the days of Buonaparte, as a military store-house, and the mark of a musket ball, fired in wantonness by a French Soldier, is to be seen in one part of the painting of Leonardo da Vinci. Fortunately the ball hit where the injury was as small as it could have been; and it is only marvellous that this fine work was not wholly defaced during those times of military misrule and utter disregard of all sacred things.[II] Little conversant in pictures, I cannot take upon me to describe this, which impressed my feelings and imagination more than any picture I ever saw, though some of the figures are so injured by damp that they are only just traceable. The most important are, however, happily the least injured; and that of our Saviour has only suffered from a general fading in the colours, yet, alas! the fading and vanishing must go on year after year till, at length, the whole group must pass away. Through the cloisters of the monastery, which are shattered and defaced, pictures are found in all parts, and there are some curious monuments." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. ii.)--ED.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 527: 1827.

... survives; the brow, the cheek, 1822.
]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote IH:

"The hand
_Sang_ with the voice, and this the argument."

MILTON.

W. W. 1822.
]

XXVI

THE ECLIPSE OF THE SUN, 1820[528]

High on her speculative tower
Stood Science waiting for the hour
When Sol was destined to endure
_That_ darkening of his radiant face
Which Superstition strove to chase, 5
Erewhile, with rites impure.

Afloat beneath Italian skies,
Through regions fair as Paradise
We gaily passed,--till Nature wrought
A silent and unlooked-for change, 10
That checked the desultory range
Of joy and sprightly thought.

Where'er was dipped the toiling oar,
The waves danced round us as before,
As lightly, though of altered hue, 15
'Mid recent coolness, such as falls
At noontide from umbrageous walls
That screen the morning dew.

No vapour stretched its wings; no cloud
Cast far or near a murky shroud; 20
The sky an azure field displayed;
'Twas sunlight sheathed and gently charmed,
Of all its sparkling rays disarmed,
And as in slumber laid,--

Or something night and day between, 25
Like moonshine--but the hue was green;
Still moonshine, without shadow, spread
On jutting rock, and curvèd shore,
Where gazed the peasant from his door
And on the mountain's head. 30

It tinged the Julian steeps[IJ]--it lay,
Lugano! on thy ample bay,[529]
The solemnizing veil was drawn
O'er villas, terraces, and towers;
To Albogasio's[IK] olive bowers, 35
Porlezza's verdant lawn.

But Fancy with the speed of fire
Hath past[530] to Milan's loftiest spire,
And there alights 'mid that aërial host
Of Figures human and divine, 40
White as the snows of Apennine
Indúrated by frost.

Awe-stricken she beholds the array
That guards the Temple night and day;
Angels she sees--that might from heaven have flown,
And Virgin-saints, who not in vain 46
Have striven by purity to gain
The beatific crown--

Sees long-drawn files,[531] concentric rings
Each narrowing above each;--the wings, 50
The uplifted palms, the silent marble lips
The starry zone of sovereign height--
All steeped in this portentous light!
All suffering dim eclipse!

Thus after Man had fallen (if aught 55
These perishable spheres have wrought
May with that issue be compared)
Throngs of celestial visages,
Darkening like water in the breeze,
A holy sadness shared. 60

Lo![532] while I speak, the labouring Sun
His glad deliverance has begun:
The cypress waves her[533] sombre plume
More cheerily; and town and tower,
The vineyard and the olive-bower, 65
Their lustre re-assume!

O Ye, who guard and grace my home
While in far-distant lands we roam,
What countenance hath this Day put on for you?
While we looked round with favoured eyes, 70
Did sullen mists hide lake and skies
And mountains from your view?[534]

Or was it given you to behold
Like vision, pensive though not cold,
From the smooth breast of gay Winandermere?[535]
Saw ye the soft yet awful veil 76
Spread over Grasmere's lovely dale,
Helvellyn's brow severe?[IL]

I ask in vain--and know far less
If sickness, sorrow, or distress 80
Have spared my Dwelling to this hour;
Sad blindness! but ordained to prove
Our faith in Heaven's unfailing love
And all-controlling power.

_Of Figures human and Divine._

The Statues ranged round the Spire and along the roof of the Cathedral of Milan, have been found fault with by Persons whose exclusive taste is unfortunate for themselves. It is true that the same expense and labour judiciously directed to purposes more strictly architectural, might have much heightened the general effect of the building; for, seen from the ground, the Statues appear diminutive. But the _coup-d'œil_, from the best point of view, which is half way up the Spire, must strike an unprejudiced Person with admiration; and surely the selection and arrangement of the Figures is exquisitely fitted to support the religion of the Country in the imaginations and feelings of the Spectator. It was with great pleasure that I saw, during the two ascents which we made, several Children, of different ages, tripping up and down the slender spire, and pausing to look around them, with feelings much more animated than could have been derived from these, or the finest works of art, if placed within easy reach.--Remember also that you have the Alps on one side, and on the other the Apennines, with the Plain of Lombardy between!--W. W. 1822.

_The starry zone of sovereign height._

Above the highest circle of figures is a zone of metallic stars.--W. W. 1837.

"Thursday, Sept. 7. Cadenabbia.--... Nothing could be more lovely than the milder scenes this morning: the little lake Piano: the sunny glades, enlivened by groups of Peasants, gathering in their various harvests, or seated under the shade of some tree taking refreshment, their simple breakfast, a piece of bread and a little fruit; then, the shadows of these trees upon green emerald lawns, between the little lake and that of Lugano, lay more softly than ever shadows rested before, cradled under those stupendous perpendicular barriers. Took boat at Porlezza. Eclipse of the Sun: could bear to look at the orb shorn of his beams, with the naked eye: the effect produced upon the scenery very fine, such a sombre greenness, like the effect of bright moonlight: only under a bright moon that very green colour generally diffused (as if you had on a pair of green spectacles) cannot be. On the right bank of the lake the woods were of a rich golden green, gloomy on the left shore, and looking back among the towering rocks, and black coves, the region was very solemn. The water, unillumined by sunshine, was of what I should call a _sad_ green: the air cooler, indeed a _coolish_ air gently agitated the lake, while the eclipse lasted. We congratulated ourselves in being undesignedly, and indeed unexpectedly, in so grand a situation to witness this phenomenon." (Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)

As reference is made in the poem to "Milan's loftiest spire," and its "Figures human and divine," the following extracts from the two Journals may be given in illustration:--"Sept. 2. Milan."--"The cathedral we have thoroughly seen this morning. It is a grand and imposing Edifice--we have been delighted both with the building, and with the material _especially_, all marble of the finest kind. 3000 statues of beautiful polished white marble are stationed upon this elegant Pile. We were upon the very top; the pinnacle so light, yet notwithstanding the height, and its slender appearance, feeling yourself perfectly secure.... The view of the Cathedral itself from this station is extraordinary; the pure graceful figures, streaming far before you, have a most interesting and curious effect; and, from the lower roofs also, you have many fine combinations." (Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)

"Saturday, 1st September. Milan.--Our object this morning was to ascend to the roof, where I remained alone, not venturing to follow the rest of the party to the top of the giddy, central spire, which is ascended by a narrow staircase twisted round the outside. Even W. was obliged to trust to a hand governed by a steadier head than his own. I wandered about, with space spread around me (on the roof on which I trod), for streets and even squares of no very diminutive Town. The floor on which I trod was all of polished marble, intensely hot, and as dazzling as snow; and instead of moving figures I was surrounded by groups and stationary processions of silent statues--saints, sages, and angels. It is impossible for me to describe the beautiful spectacle, or to give a notion of the delight I felt; therefore I will copy a sketch in verse composed from my Brother's recollections of the view from the central Spire." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. ii.)

Henry Crabb Robinson wrote thus of these memorial stanzas:--"Of the stanzas, I love most--loving all--'The Eclipse of the Sun.'" (_Diary_, etc., vol. ii. p. 224.)--ED.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 528: 1827.

1821. 1822.
]

[Footnote 529: 1827.

Upon Lugano's ample bay; 1822.
]

[Footnote 530: 1837.

Hath fled ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 531: 1827.

Far-stretching files ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 532: 1827.

See! ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 533: 1832.

... its ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 534: 1837.

Enquiring thoughts are turned to you;
Does a clear ether meet your eyes?
Or have black vapours hid the skies
And mountains from your view? 1822.

Was such a vision given to you?
Or, while we looked with favoured eyes,
Did sullen mist hide lake and skies
And mountains from your view? 1827.

What countenance hath this day put on for you?
Do clouds surcharged with irksome rain,
Blackening the Eclipse, take hill and plain
From your benighted view? 1832.
]

[Footnote 535: 1837.

Of gay Winandermere? 1832.
]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote II: The following note was added, by Henry Crabb Robinson, to Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal:--"It is perfectly notorious that this picture suffered more from the negligence of the monks than from the scorn of the French. A hole was broken thro' the lower part of the centre of the picture to admit hot dishes from the Kitchen into the Refectory.--H. C. R."--ED.]

[Footnote IJ: The Julian Alps, also known as the Carnic Alps, bound the plains of Venetia, and curve round from Mount Terglu to the Dalmatian range, and the neighbourhood of Trieste.--ED.]

[Footnote IK: Six miles from Menaggio, on Lake Lugano.--ED.]

[Footnote IL: Compare _Musings near Aquapendente_ (April 1837), l. 62. This stanza was first included in the 1832 edition of the poems.--ED.]

XXVII

THE THREE COTTAGE GIRLS

I

How blest the Maid whose heart--yet free
From Love's uneasy sovereignty--
Beats with a fancy running high,
Her simple cares to magnify;
Whom Labour, never urged to toil, 5
Hath cherished on a healthful soil;
Who knows not pomp, who heeds not pelf;
Whose heaviest sin it is to look
Askance upon her pretty Self
Reflected in some crystal brook; 10
Whom grief hath spared--who sheds no tear
But in sweet pity; and can hear
Another's praise from envy clear.

II

Such (but O lavish Nature! why
That dark unfathomable eye, 15
Where lurks a Spirit that replies
To stillest mood of softest skies,
Yet hints at peace to be o'erthrown,
Another's first, and then her own?)
Such, haply, yon ITALIAN Maid, 20
Our Lady's laggard Votaress,
Halting beneath the chestnut shade
To accomplish there her loveliness:
Nice aid maternal fingers lend;
A Sister serves with slacker hand; 25
Then, glittering like a star, she joins the festal band.

III

How blest (if truth may entertain
Coy fancy with a bolder strain)
The HELVETIAN Girl--who daily braves,
In her light skiff, the tossing waves, 30
And quits the bosom of the deep
Only to climb the rugged steep!
--Say whence that modulated shout!
From Wood-nymph of Diana's throng?
Or does the greeting to a rout 35
Of giddy Bacchanals belong?
Jubilant outcry! rock and glade
Resounded--but the voice obeyed
The breath of an Helvetian Maid.

IV

Her beauty dazzles the thick wood; 40
Her courage animates the flood;
Her steps[536] the elastic green-sward meets
Returning unreluctant sweets;
The mountains (as ye heard) rejoice
Aloud, saluted by her voice! 45
Blithe Paragon of Alpine grace,
Be as thou art--for through thy veins
The blood of Heroes runs its race!
And nobly wilt thou brook the chains
That, for the virtuous, Life prepares; 50
The fetters which the Matron wears;
The patriot Mother's weight of anxious cares!

V

[IM]"Sweet HIGHLAND Girl! a very shower
Of beauty was thy earthly dower,"
When thou didst flit before mine eyes,[537] 55
Gay Vision under sullen skies,
While Hope and Love around thee played,
Near the rough falls of Inversneyd![IN]
Have they, who nursed the blossom, seen
No breach of promise in the fruit? 60
Was joy, in following joy, as keen
As grief can be in grief's pursuit?
When youth had flown did hope still bless
Thy goings[538]--or the cheerfulness
Of innocence survive to mitigate distress? 65

VI

But from our course why turn--to tread
A way with shadows overspread;
Where what we gladliest would believe
Is feared as what may most deceive?
Bright Spirit, not with amaranth crowned 70
But heath-bells from thy native ground.
Time[539] cannot thin thy flowing hair,
Nor take one ray of light from Thee;
For in my Fancy thou dost share
The gift of immortality; 75
And there shall bloom, with Thee allied,
The Votaress by Lugano's side;
And that intrepid Nymph, on Uri's steep, descried!

The following passage from Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal describes

The Votaress by Lugano's side.

"Lugano, Sept. 8, Friday.--... The evening was uncommonly fine; the road shady; bells ringing from the neighbouring chapels, that crested many a steep rock; birds too here, fitfully warbling from the groves; waters gushing through some rocky cleft among the thickets; and I, at my own pace and will, enjoyed a quiet and most refreshing walk. At every step up and down the well-made road, meeting something new, a different shaped mountain, or the same trees under different combinations, a tempting path winding to a village in a dell below, or to a nest of cottages gathered round a spire above, a tinkling stream, or a green glade without one; and all the way through a region of stately trees.... Here an elegant-looking peasant Girl was putting on her gay ornaments before she entered the Town, where also was a festival. Her dress was so pretty I could not help noticing it, a scarlet chintz frock with a deep figured border, a wide muslin apron, nearly wrapping her round, also with a deep richly wrought border, and slung by white straps over the shoulders, a gold chain round the neck, earrings, etc.; her hair, something like Dora's, nicely braided. Her companions were assisting to put a very beautiful silk handkerchief upon her neck. One of them, from the interest she seemed to take in the arrangements, might be the mother of the Maiden; the other, a younger Sister perhaps, who lent her aid more slackly, and would, I daresay, rather have been in the wild fields gathering flowers to deck a Mayday garland, or to wreath a coronal for _Our Lady's_ head, on this her day of Festival."

The intrepid Nymph, on Uri's steep, descried!

is thus referred to by Mrs. Wordsworth:--

"Sunday, 20th Aug. Seewen.--... William and I returned later than the rest, having gone further. On reaching a knoll, before we descended into Brunnen, a pretty short-faced, bright-eyed Girl of eighteen or nineteen met us. We enquired the way. She answered; and we bid her good night, and turned from her. Presently she whistled very softly, then sent forth an uncouth sound, more as from the voice of a man than a maiden. It was not a deep sound, but one that might be heard in the Vale and across the Lake, and made the hills about us ring. This was followed by a series of Swiss airs, which she warbled without pause, one after the other, in an impassioned manner, hurrying through as if she wished to reach the utmost limits of her powers, before we were out of hearing; yet I cannot but think these modulated notes meant more than we could understand. They were probably addressed to some one at a distance. There she stood upon the naked rock; and, as a waterfall, the sound grew as we listened, so that I even fancied she was following us, in sight of the villages below and around, and her voice must have been known to those nearer dwellings, in one of which she probably found her home."

The "Sweet Highland Girl!" is thus described in Dorothy Wordsworth's _Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland_ in 1803:--

"Sunday, Aug. 28, 1803.--After long waiting, the girls, who had been on the look-out, informed us that the boat was coming. I went to the waterside, and saw a cluster of people on the opposite shore; but being yet at a distance, they looked more like soldiers surrounding a carriage than a group of men and women; red and green were the distinguishable colours. We hastened to get ourselves ready as soon as we saw the party approach, but had longer to wait than we expected, the lake being wider than it appears to be. As they drew near we could distinguish men in tartan plaids, women in scarlet cloaks, and green umbrellas by the half-dozen. The landing was as pretty a sight as ever I saw. The bay, which had been so quiet two days before, was all in motion with small waves, while the swollen waterfall roared in our ears. The boat came steadily up, being pressed almost to the water's edge by the weight of its cargo; perhaps twenty people landed, one after another. It did not rain much, but the women held up their umbrellas; they were dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, and, with their scarlet cardinals, the tartan plaids of the men, and Scotch bonnets, made a gay appearance. There was a joyous bustle surrounding the boat, which even imparted something of the same character to the waterfall in its tumult, and the restless grey waves; the young men laughed and shouted, the lasses laughed, and the elder folks seemed to be in a bustle to be away. I remember well with what haste the mistress of the house where we were ran up to seek after her child, and seeing us, how anxiously and kindly she inquired how we had fared, if we had had a good fire, had been well waited upon, etc. etc. All this in three minutes--for the boatman had another party to bring from the other side, and hurried us off.

"The hospitality we had met with at the two cottages and Mr. Macfarlane's gave us very favourable impressions on this our first entrance into the Highlands, and at this day the innocent merriment of the girls, with their kindness to us, and the beautiful figure and face of the elder, come to my mind whenever I think of the ferry-house and waterfall of Loch Lomond, and I never think of the two girls but the whole image of that romantic spot is before me, a living image, as it will be to my dying day."

See The Poetical Works, vol. ii. pp. 389, 390, and the Fenwick note.--ED.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 536: 1832.

Her step ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 537: 1837.

... pass before my eyes, 1822.

... flit before my eyes, 1832.
]

[Footnote 538: 1840.

Her goings ... 1837.
]

[Footnote 539: 1837.

... of Inversneyd!
Time ... 1822.

In editions of 1822 to 1832, the first six lines of stanza v. were joined to the last seven of stanza vi., making up a single stanza (No. v.), and concluding the poem.]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote IM: See the Author's Miscellaneous Poems, vol. ii.--W. W. 1822.]

[Footnote IN: I retain Wordworth's spelling of the name of this place.--ED.]

XXVIII

THE COLUMN INTENDED BY BUONAPARTE FOR A TRIUMPHAL EDIFICE IN MILAN,
NOW LYING BY THE WAY-SIDE IN THE SIMPLON PASS[540]

Ambition--following down this far-famed slope
Her Pioneer, the snow-dissolving Sun,
While clarions prate of kingdoms to be won--
Perchance, in future ages, here may stop;
Taught to mistrust her flattering horoscope 5
By admonition from this prostrate Stone!
Memento uninscribed of Pride o'erthrown;
Vanity's hieroglyphic; a choice trope
In Fortune's rhetoric. Daughter of the Rock,
Rest where thy course was stayed by Power divine!
The Soul transported sees, from hint of thine, 11
Crimes which the great Avenger's hand provoke,
Hears combats whistling o'er the ensanguined heath:
What groans! what shrieks! what quietness in death!

Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal contains the following reference to this "column":--"Sat., 9th Sept. (From Bavana to Domo d'Ossola.)--... The fine column--Buonaparte's--seen to-day, arrested here by the news of his overthrow, on its way to form a part of the triumphal arch at Milan!"

"Sunday, 9th September. Domo d'Ossola.--At a considerable height from the river's bed an immense column of granite lies by the wayside, as if its course had been stopped there by tidings of Napoleon's overthrow. It was intended by him for his unfinished triumphal arch at Milan; and I wish it may remain prostrate on the mountain for ages to come. His bitterest foe could scarcely contrive a more impressive record of disappointed vanity and ambition. The sledge upon which it has been dragged from the quarry is rotted beneath it, while the pillar remains as fresh and sparkling as if hewn but yesterday. W., who came after us, said he had named it the 'weary stone,' in memory of that immense stone in the wilds of Peru, so called by the Indians because after 20,000 of them had dragged it over heights and hollows, it tumbled down a precipice, and rested immovable at the bottom, where it must forever remain. Ere long we come to the first passage _through_ the rocks, near the River's bed, and 'Road and River'[IO] for some time fill the bottom of the valley. We miss the bright torrents that stream down the hills bordering the Tesino; but here is no want of variety. We are in closer neighbourhood with the crags; hence their shapes are continually changing, and their appearance is the more commanding; and, wherever an old building is seen, it is overspread with the hues of the natural crags, and is in form of accordant irregularity. The very road itself, however boldly it may bestride the hills or pierce the rocks, is yet the slave of nature, its windings often being governed as imperiously as those of the Vedra within the chasm of the glen." (Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal.)

Another extract from Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal will farther illustrate this sonnet:--

Milan, Sept. 20.--... "Been to see the Bibliotheca Ambrosia.... Petrarch's Virgil delighted us more than all. It had been clawed by Buonaparte; and he had had the audacity to new-bind this book, and place four odious N's upon its back. When he revisited this library, as the animated old librarian related to us, he had this volume under his arm, saying, 'This is mine,' and walked off with it himself. It is well it did not remain in possession of so unworthy a master."--ED.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 540: 1827.

SONNET. THE COLUMN ...
... SEMPLON PASS.--W. W. 1822.
]

XXIX

STANZAS

COMPOSED IN THE SIMPLON PASS[541]

Vallombrosa! I longed in thy shadiest wood
To slumber, reclined on the moss-covered floor,
To listen to ANIO'S precipitous flood,
When the stillness of evening hath deepened[542] its roar;
To range through the Temples of PÆSTUM, to muse 5
In POMPEII preserved by her burial in earth;
On pictures to gaze where they drank in their hues;
And murmur sweet songs on the ground of their birth!

The beauty of Florence, the grandeur of Rome,
Could I leave them unseen, and not yield to regret?[IP] 10
With a hope (and no more) for a season to come,
Which ne'er may discharge the magnificent debt?
Thou fortunate Region! whose Greatness inurned
Awoke to new life from its ashes and dust;
Twice-glorified fields! if in sadness I turned 15
From your infinite marvels, the sadness was just.

Now, risen ere the light-footed Chamois retires
From dew-sprinkled grass to heights guarded with snow,
Toward the mists that hang over the land of my Sires,
From the climate of myrtles contented I go. 20
My thoughts become bright like yon edging of Pines
On the steep's lofty verge: how it blacken'd the air!
But, touched from behind by the Sun, it now shines[543]
With threads that seem part of his own silver hair.

Though the toil of the way[544] with dear Friends we divide, 25
Though by the same zephyr our temples be fanned[545]
As we rest in the cool orange-bower side by side,
A yearning survives which few hearts shall withstand:
Each step hath its value while homeward we move;--
O joy when the girdle of England appears! 30
What moment in life is so conscious of love,
Of love in the heart made more happy by tears?[546]

Wordsworth and his friends did not visit any of the places mentioned in the first two stanzas, but recrossed the Alps by the Simplon route after their brief visit to the Italian Lakes. Mrs. Wordsworth writes thus of their walk from Domo d'Ossola to the Simplon Hospice:--"Sunday, Sept. 20.--... We had great pleasure in discovering traces of a more difficult ascent (in one instance, with the remains of an oratory), down which William and Jones came thirty years ago. William pointed out to us an ancient, high, many windowed edifice, by the roadside, as the Hospital where they had lodged; a wild and solemn harbour! On the opposite side of the road, a neat little church, as clean as any English chapel, standing in its tiny enclosure of burial ground; below, the Tusa; but its murmur, or rather raving, could not be heard for the riotous din of a torrent, tumbling from the stupendous mountain above, a tumultuous sound, distinctly remembered by William, an unchangeable object! Bonaparte's words, 'Be thou fettered,' would have been of no avail here.... As we advance, Pines climbing up to the skies, in some places clothing the very pinnacles of the highest rocks. The road cut and carried through masses of the solid rock.... Symptoms of desolation as we advance. Mountains crumbling gradually, or brought down by force of waters. Blasted pines standing or torn up, and lying in a decaying state, in the torrent's bed. In the midst of such scenes to come in view of one of those lovely green Prairies is an enlivening sight, with its little cottage.... Watching as we did all the way snatches of the old road, we traced it as we thought across the river and up the ascent on the other side; and afterwards Wm. told us that there was the very point where he and Jones had committed the same mistake, had taken that road (as recorded in his poem) and had to retrace their steps--and bend downwards with the stream, under a sort of depression from the feeling that 'he had crossed the Alps.'..."

Compare _The Prelude_, book vi. 1. 562, etc.--ED.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 541: 1827.

... SEMPLON PASS. 1822.
]

[Footnote 542: 1827.

... had softened ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 543: 1837.

... Pine,
Black fringe to a precipice lofty and bare,
Which, as from behind the Sun strikes it, doth shine 1822.

... pines,
How black was its hue in the region of air!
But, touched from behind by the sun, it now shines 1827.
]

[Footnote 544: 1837.

Tho' the burthen of toil ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 545: 1837.

... are fann'd, 1822.
]

[Footnote 546: 1837.

So rich in the tenderest sweetness of tears? 1822.
]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote IO: Compare _The Simplon Pass_ (vol. ii. p. 69)--

Brook and road
Were fellow-travellers in this gloomy Pass.

ED.
]

[Footnote IP: Compare _Yarrow Unvisited_ (vol. ii. p. 411).--ED.]

XXX

ECHO, UPON THE GEMMI

What beast of chase hath broken from the cover?
Stern GEMMI listens to as full a cry,
As multitudinous a harmony
Of sounds as rang[547] the heights of Latmos over,
When, from the soft couch of her sleeping Lover, 5
Up-starting, Cynthia skimmed the mountain-dew
In keen pursuit--and gave, where'er she flew,[IQ]
Impetuous motion to the Stars above her.[IR]
A solitary Wolf-dog, ranging on
Through the bleak concave, wakes this wondrous chime
Of aëry voices locked in unison,-- 11
Faint--far-off--near--deep--solemn and sublime!--
So, from the body of one guilty deed,[548]
A thousand ghostly fears, and haunting thoughts, proceed!

They went up the Gemmi Pass from Leukerbad, passed the Dauben See and the Schwarenbach Inn, looked into the valley of Kandersteg, and returned to the baths of Leuk. Mrs. Wordsworth writes:--"Wed., 13th Sept. Baths of Leuk.--... On our right we looked down from an immense height into Gastern Thal, a huge cleft, between the snowy Giants, Altels and Blumlis Alp. The Kandor rises out of this rocky recess, makes a bend at the foot of our high station, and takes a direct course down the valley before us.... We were very loath to return, without measuring the tempting vale through which this river flows. Returned by the same path. On drawing towards the little mountain Inn, the mastiff, hearing our footsteps before we could see him, or hear his voice, raised such a tumult in the mountains as produced the effect of a large pack of well-toned hounds in full cry. It was a grand sound. And this reminds me of the fine echoes called forth by a traveller or his guide in the morning. They were before us, as we clomb the Gemmi. The voice was a universal one; and the prolonged and re-echoed notes could not have been more harmonious had they proceeded from the sweetest instrument."

"Wednesday, 12th September. Baths of Leuk.--The total absence of all _sound_ of living _creature_ was very striking: silent moths in abundance flew about in the sunshine, and the muddy Lake weltered below us; the only sound when we checked our voices to listen. Hence we continued to journey over rocky and barren ground till we suddenly looked down into a warm, green nook, into which we must descend. Twelve cattle were there enclosed by the crags, as in a field of their own choosing. We passed among them, giving no disturbance, and again came upon a tract as barren as before. After about two leagues from the top of the Gemmi crags, the summer Chalet, our promised resting-place, was seen facing us, reared against the stony mountain, and overlooking a desolate round hollow. Winding along the side of the hill (that deep hollow beneath us to the right) a long half-mile brought us to the platform before the door of the hut. It was a scene of wild gaiety. Half-a-score of youthful travellers (military students from the College of Thun) were there regaling themselves. Mr. Robinson became sociable; and we, while the party stood round us talking with him, had our repast spread upon the same table where they had finished theirs. They departed; and we saw them winding away towards the Gemmi on the side of the precipice above the dreary hollow--a long procession, not less interesting than the group at our approach. But every object connected with animated nature (and human life especially) is interesting on such a road as this; we meet no one with a stranger's heart! I cannot forget with what pleasure, soon after leaving the hut, we greeted two young matrons, one with a child in her arms, the other with hers, a lusty babe, ruddy with mountain air, asleep in its wicker cradle on her back. Thus laden they were to descend the Gemmi Rocks, and seemed to think it no hardship, returning us chearful looks while we noticed the happy burthens which they carried. Those peasant travellers out of sight, we go on over the same rocky ground, snowy pikes and craggy eminences still bounding the prospect. But ere long we approach the neighbourhood of trees, and overlooking a long smooth level covered with poor yellowish grass, saw at a distance, in the centre of the level, a group of Travellers of a different kind--a party of gentry, male and female, on mules. On meeting I spoke to the two Ladies in English, by way of trying their nation, and was pleased at being answered in the same tongue. The lawn here was prettily embayed, like a lake, among little eminences covered with dwarf trees, aged or blighted; thence, onward to another open space, where was an encampment of cattle sheds, the large plain spotted with heaps of stones at irregular distances.... The turf was very poor, yet so lavishly overspread with close-growing flowers it reminded us of a Persian Carpet. The _silver_ thistle, as we then named it, had a singularly beautiful effect; a glistering star lying on the ground, as if enwrought upon it. An avalanche had covered the surface with stones many years ago, and many more will it require for nature, aided by the mountaineers' industry, to restore the soil to its former fertility. On approaching the destined termination of our descent, we were led among thickets of Alpine Shrubs, a rich covering of berry-bearing plants over-spreading the ground. We followed the ridge of this wildly beautiful tract, and it brought us to the brink of a precipice. On our right, when we looked into the savage valley of Gastron--upwards toward its head, and downwards to the point where the Gastron joins the Kandor, their united streams thence continuing a tumultuous course to the Lake of Thun. The head of the _Kandor Thal_ was concealed from us, to our left, by the ridge of the hill on which we stood. By going about a mile further along the ridge to the brow of its northern extremity, we might have seen the junction of the two rivers, but were fearful of being overtaken by darkness in descending the Gemmi, and were, indeed, satisfied with the prospect already gained. The river Gastron winds in tumult over a stony channel, through the apparently level area of a grassless Vale, buried beneath stupendous mountains--not a house or hut to be seen. A roaring sound ascended to us on the eminence so high above the Vale. How _awful_ the tumult when the River carries along with it the spring tide of melted snow! We had long viewed in our journey a snow-covered pike, in stateliness and height surpassing all the other eminences. The whole mass of the mountain now appeared before us, on the same side of the Gastron vale on which we were. It seemed very near to us, and as if a part of its base rose from that vale. We could hardly believe our Guide when he told us that pike was one of the summits of the Jungfrau, took out maps and books, and found it could be no other mountain. I never before had a conception of the space covered by the bases of these enormous piles. After lingering as long as time would allow, we began to remeasure our steps, thankful for the privilege of again feeling ourselves in the neighbourhood of the Jungfrau, and of looking upon those heights that border the Lake of Thun, at the feet of which we had first entered among the inner windings of Switzerland. Our journey back to the Chalet was not less pleasant than in the earlier part of the day. The Guide, hurrying on before us, roused the large house-dog to give us a welcoming bark, which echoed round the mountains like the tunable voices of a full pack of hounds--a heart-stirring concert in that silent place where no waters were heard at that time--no tinkling of cattle-bells; indeed, the barren soil offers small temptation for wandering cattle to linger there. In a few weeks our rugged path would be closed up with snow, the hut untenanted for the winter, and not a living creature left to rouse the echoes--echoes which our Bard would not suffer to die with us." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. ii.)--ED.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 547: 1837.

As e'er did ring ... 1822.
]

[Footnote 548: 1827.

... of a single deed, 1822.
]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote IQ: Professor Lewis Campbell sent me the following note on the Gemmi sonnet:--"Cynthia is here (1) the moon, who "sleeps with Endymion," (2) the huntress Artemis (or Diana), roaming the forest glades in pursuit of game. In imagining her as giving motion to the stars, it is _possible_ that the poet may have had in his mind a false echo of Ovid's lines addressed to Aurora, _Amores_, i. l. 27--

Optavi quoties, ne nox tibi cedere vellet,
Neu fugerent vultus _sidera mota_ tuos."

ED.
]

[Footnote IR: Compare the _Ode to Duty_, stanza 6 (vol. iii. p. 40).--ED.]

XXXI

PROCESSIONS

SUGGESTED ON A SABBATH MORNING IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNY

To appease the Gods; or public thanks to yield;
Or to solicit knowledge of events,
Which in her breast Futurity concealed;
And that the past might have its true intents
Feelingly told by living monuments-- 5
Mankind of yore were prompted to devise
Rites such as yet Persepolis presents
Graven on her cankered walls, solemnities
That moved in long array before admiring eyes.[IS]

The Hebrews thus, carrying in joyful state 10
Thick boughs of palm, and willows from the brook,[IT]
Marched round the altar--to commemorate
How, when their course they through the desert took,
Guided by signs which ne'er the sky forsook,
They lodged in leafy tents and cabins low; 15
Green boughs were borne, while, for the blast that shook
Down to the earth the walls of Jericho,
Shouts rise, and storms of sound from lifted trumpets blow![549]

And thus, in order, 'mid the sacred grove
Fed in the Libyan waste by gushing wells, 20
The priests and damsels of Ammonian Jove
Provoked responses with shrill canticles;[IU]
While, in a ship begirt with silver bells,
They round his altar bore the hornèd God,
Old Cham, the solar Deity,[IV] who dwells 25
Aloft, yet in a tilting vessel rode,[IW]
When universal sea the mountains overflowed.

Why speak of Roman Pomps?[IX] the haughty claims
Of Chiefs triumphant after ruthless wars;
The feast of Neptune[IY]--and the Cereal Games,[IZ] 30
With images, and crowns, and empty cars;
The dancing Salii--on the shields of Mars
Smiting with fury;[JA] and a[551] deeper dread
Scattered on all sides[JB] by the hideous jars
Of Corybantian cymbals, while the head 35
Of Cybelè was seen, sublimely turreted![JC]

At length a Spirit more subdued and soft
Appeared--to govern Christian pageantries:
The Cross, in calm procession, borne aloft
Moved to the chant of sober litanies. 40
Even such, this day, came wafted on the breeze
From a long train--in hooded vestments fair
Enwrapt--and winding, between Alpine trees
Spiry and dark, around their House of prayer,
Below the icy bed of bright ARGENTIERE. 45

Still in the vivid freshness of a dream,
The pageant haunts me as it met our eyes!
Still, with those white-robed Shapes--a living Stream,
The glacier Pillars join in solemn guise[552]
For the same service, by mysterious ties; 50
Numbers exceeding credible account
Of number, pure and silent Votaries
Issuing or issued[553] from a wintry fount;
The impenetrable heart of that exalted Mount!

They, too, who send[554] so far a holy gleam 55
While they the Church engird[555] with motion slow,
A product of that awful Mountain seem,[556]
Poured from his vaults of everlasting snow;
Not virgin lilies marshalled in bright row,
Not swans descending with the stealthy tide, 60
A livelier sisterly resemblance show
Than the fair Forms, that in long order glide,
Bear to the glacier band--those[557] Shapes aloft descried.

Trembling, I look upon the secret springs
Of that licentious craving in the mind 65
To act the God among external things,
To bind, on apt suggestion, or unbind;[558]
And marvel not that antique Faith inclined
To crowd the world with metamorphosis,
Vouchsafed in pity or in wrath assigned; 70
Such insolent temptations wouldst thou miss,
Avoid these sights; nor brood o'er Fable's dark abyss!

_Still, with those white-robed Shapes--a living Stream,
The glacier Pillars join in solemn guise._

This Procession is a part of the sacramental service performed once a month. In the valley of Engelberg we had the good fortune to be present at the _Grand Festival_ of the Virgin--but the Procession on that day, though consisting of upwards of 1000 persons, assembled from all branches of the sequestered valley, was much less striking (notwithstanding the sublimity of the surrounding scenery): it wanted both the simplicity of the other and the accompaniment of the Glacier-columns, whose sisterly resemblance to the _moving_ Figures gave it a most beautiful and solemn peculiarity.--W. W. 1837.

* * * * *