Chapter X: Conclusion: To ----507 (2)

Cold though your nature be, 'tis pure;
Your birthright is a fence
From all that haughtier kinds endure
Through tyranny of sense.
Ah! not alone by colours bright 45
Are Ye to heaven allied,
When, like essential Forms of light,
Ye mingle, or divide.

For day-dreams soft as e'er beguiled
Day-thoughts while limbs repose; 50
For moonlight fascinations mild,
Your gift, ere shutters close--
Accept, mute Captives! thanks and praise;
And may this tribute prove
That gentle admirations raise 55
Delight resembling love.

FOOTNOTES:

[597] Compare _Cymbeline_, act II. scene iii. l. 21.--ED.

[598] See note [448] to p. 160.--ED.

[599] 1837.

When they abate their fiery glare: 1835.

LIBERTY

(SEQUEL TO THE ABOVE)[600]

[ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND; THE GOLD AND SILVER FISHES HAVING BEEN
REMOVED TO A POOL IN THE PLEASURE-GROUND OF RYDAL MOUNT.]

Composed 1829.--Published 1835

"The liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made for themselves, under whatever form it be of government. The liberty of a private man, in being master of his own time and actions, as far as may consist with the laws of God and of his country. Of this latter we are here to discourse."--COWLEY.

One of the "Miscellaneous Poems."--ED.

Those breathing Tokens of your kind regard,
(Suspect not, Anna,[601] that their fate is hard;
Not soon does aught to which mild fancies cling
In lonely spots, become a slighted thing;)
Those silent Inmates now no longer share, 5
Nor do they need, our hospitable care,
Removed in kindness from their glassy Cell
To the fresh waters of a living Well--[602]
An elfin pool so sheltered that its rest
No winds disturb;[603] the mirror of whose breast 10
Is smooth as clear, save where with dimples small[604]
A fly may settle, or a blossom fall.[605]
--_There_ swims, of blazing sun and beating shower
Fearless (but how obscured!) the golden Power,
That from his bauble prison used to cast 15
Gleams by the richest jewel unsurpast;
And near him, darkling like a sullen Gnome,
The silver Tenant of the crystal dome;
Dissevered both from all the mysteries
Of hue and altering shape that charmed all eyes. 20
Alas! they pined,[606] they languished while they shone;
And, if not so, what matters beauty gone
And admiration lost, by change of place
That brings to the inward creature no disgrace?
But if the change restore his birth-right, then, 25
Whate'er the difference, boundless is the gain.
Who can divine what impulses from God
Reach the caged lark, within a town-abode,
From his poor inch or two of daisied sod?
O yield him back his privilege!--No sea 30
Swells like the bosom of a man set free;
A wilderness is rich with liberty.
Roll on, ye spouting whales, who die or keep
Your independence in the fathomless Deep!
Spread, tiny nautilus, the living sail; 35
Dive, at thy choice, or brave the freshening gale!
If unreproved the ambitious eagle mount
Sunward to seek the daylight in its fount,[607]
Bays, gulfs, and ocean's Indian width, shall be,
Till the world perishes, a field for thee! 40

While musing here I sit in shadow cool,
And watch these mute Companions, in the pool,
(Among reflected boughs of leafy trees)
By glimpses caught--disporting at their ease,
Enlivened, braced, by hardy luxuries, 45
I ask what warrant fixed them (like a spell
Of witchcraft fixed them) in the crystal cell;
To wheel with languid motion round and round,
Beautiful, yet in mournful durance bound.
Their peace, perhaps, our lightest footfall marred; 50
On their quick sense our sweetest music jarred;
And whither could they dart, if seized with fear?
No sheltering stone, no tangled root was near.
When fire or taper ceased to cheer the room,
They wore away the night in starless gloom; 55
And, when the sun first dawned upon the streams,
How faint their portion of his vital beams!
Thus, and unable to complain, they fared,
While not one joy of ours by them was shared.

Is there a cherished bird (I venture now 60
To snatch a sprig from Chaucer's reverend brow)--[608]
Is there a brilliant fondling of the cage,
Though sure of plaudits on his costly stage,
Though fed with dainties from the snow-white hand
Of a kind mistress, fairest of the land, 65
But gladly would escape; and, if need were,
Scatter the colours from the plumes that bear
The emancipated captive through blithe air
Into strange woods, where he at large may live
On best or worst which they and Nature give? 70
The beetle loves his unpretending track,
The snail the house he carries on his back;
The far-fetched worm with pleasure would disown
The bed we give him, though of softest down;
A noble instinct; in all kinds the same, 75
All ranks! What Sovereign, worthy of the name,
If doomed to breathe against his lawful will
An element that flatters him--to kill,
But would rejoice to barter outward show
For the least boon that freedom can bestow? 80

But most the Bard is true to inborn right,
Lark of the dawn, and Philomel of night,
Exults in freedom, can with rapture vouch
For the dear blessings of a lowly couch, 84
A natural meal--days, months, from Nature's hand;
Time, place, and business, all at his command!--
Who bends to happier duties, who more wise
Than the industrious Poet, taught to prize,
Above all grandeur, a pure life uncrossed
By cares in which simplicity is lost? 90
That life--the flowery path that[609] winds by stealth--
Which Horace needed for his spirit's health;[610]
Sighed for, in heart and genius, overcome
By noise and strife, and questions wearisome,
And the vain splendours of Imperial Rome?--[611] 95
Let easy mirth his social hours inspire,
And fiction animate his sportive lyre,
Attuned to verse that, crowning light Distress
With garlands, cheats her into happiness;
Give _me_ the humblest note of those sad strains 100
Drawn forth by pressure of his gilded chains,
As a chance-sunbeam from his memory fell
Upon the Sabine farm he loved so well;[612]
Or when the prattle of Blandusia's spring[613]
Haunted his ear--he only listening-- 105
He proud to please, above all rivals, fit
To win the palm of gaiety and wit;
He, doubt not, with involuntary dread,
Shrinking from each new favour to be shed,
By the world's Ruler, on his honoured head! 110

In a deep vision's intellectual scene,
Such earnest longings and regrets as keen
Depressed the melancholy Cowley, laid
Under a fancied yew-tree's luckless shade;
A doleful bower for penitential song, 115
Where Man and Muse complained of mutual wrong;
While Cam's ideal current glided by,
And antique towers nodded their foreheads high,
Citadels dear to studious privacy.
But Fortune, who had long been used to sport 120
With this tried Servant of a thankless Court,
Relenting met his wishes; and to you
The remnant of his days at least was true;
You, whom, though long deserted, he loved best;
You, Muses, books, fields, liberty, and rest![614] 125

Far[615] happier they who, fixing hope and aim
On the humanities of peaceful fame,
Enter betimes with more than martial fire
The generous course, aspire, and still aspire;
Upheld by warnings heeded not too late 130
Stifle the contradictions of their fate,
And to one purpose cleave, their Being's godlike mate!

Thus, gifted Friend, but with the placid brow
That woman ne'er should forfeit, keep _thy_ vow;
With modest scorn reject whate'er would blind 135
The ethereal eyesight, cramp the wingèd mind!
Then, with a blessing granted from above
To every act, word, thought, and look of love,
Life's book for Thee may lie unclosed, till age
Shall with a thankful tear bedrop its latest page.[616] 140

FOOTNOTES:

[600] 1835.

SEQUEL TO THE PRECEDING 1837.

The text of 1857 returns to that of 1835.

[601] See the Sonnet (p. 168) beginning--

While Anna's peers and early playmates tread.

ED.

[602] See _The Faërie Queene_, book i. canto 2, stanza 43--

Till we be bathed in a living well.

ED.

[603] This "elfin pool," to which the gold and silver fishes were removed, still exists beneath the pollard oak tree in "Dora's Field," at Rydal Mount. The field is now the property of Mr. Gordon Wordsworth.--ED.

[604] 1845.

... Well;
That spreads into an elfin pool opaque
Of which close boughs a glimmering mirror make,
On whose smooth breast with dimples light and small 1835.

[605] 1845.

The fly may settle, leaf or blossom fall. 1835.
The fly may settle, or the blossom fall. 1837.

[606] 1845.

They pined, perhaps, ... 1835.

[607] See the reference to the Eagle in _The Power of Sound_ (p. 212), and in the "Poems composed or suggested during a Tour in the Summer of 1833," _The Dunolly Eagle_.--ED.

[608] See, in "The Canterbury Tales," _The Squire's Tale_, ll. 598-611.--ED.

[609] 1837.

... which ... 1835.

[610] These last five lines are amongst the best instances of Wordsworth's appreciation of one of his great predecessors. Compare the second of the two poems _September_ 1819.--ED.

[611] "The Sabine farm was situated in the valley of Ustica, thirty miles from Rome and twelve miles from Tivoli. It possessed the attraction, no small one to Horace, of being very secluded: yet, at the same time, within an easy distance of Rome. When his spirits wanted the stimulus of society or the bustle of the capital, which they often did, his ambling mule would speedily convey him thither; and when jaded, on the other hand, by the noise and racket and dissipations of Rome, he could, in the same homely way, bury himself in a few hours among the hills, and there, under the shadow of his favourite Lucretilis, or by the banks of the clear-flowing and ice-cold Digentia, either stretch himself to dream upon the grass, lulled by the murmurs of the stream, or do a little farming in the way of clearing his fields of stones, or turning over a furrow here and there with the hoe." (See Sir Theodore Martin's _Horace_, p. 68.)--ED.

[612] See Horace, _Odes_, II. 18--

Satis beatus unicis Sabinis.
With what I have completely blest,
My happy little Sabine nest.--ED.

[613] See _Odes_, III. 13.--ED.

[614] Abraham Cowley (born 1618), educated at Westminster and Trinity College, Cambridge, a Royalist, and therefore expelled from Cambridge, settled in St. John's College, Oxford, crossed over with the Queen Mother to France for twelve years, returned at the Restoration, but was neglected at Court, and retired to a farm at Chertsey, on the Thames, where he lived for some years, "the melancholy Cowley."--ED.

[615] 1837.

But ... 1835.

[616] There is now, alas! no possibility of the anticipation, with which the above Epistle concludes, being realised: nor were the verses ever seen by the Individual for whom they were intended. She accompanied her husband, the Rev. Wm. Fletcher, to India, and died of cholera, at the age of thirty-two or thirty-three years, on her way from Shalapore to Bombay, deeply lamented by all who knew her.

Her enthusiasm was ardent, her piety steadfast; and her great talents would have enabled her to be eminently useful in the difficult path of life to which she had been called. The opinion she entertained of her own performances, given to the world under her maiden name, Jewsbury, was modest and humble, and, indeed, far below their merits; as is often the case with those who are making trial of their powers, with a hope to discover what they are best fitted for. In one quality, viz., quickness in the motions of her mind, she had,[617] within the range of the Author's acquaintance, no equal.--W. W. 1835.

[617] 1837.

She was in the author's estimation unequalled.--W. W. 1835.

HUMANITY[618]

Composed 1829.--Published 1835

Not from his fellows only man may learn
Rights to compare and duties to discern:
All creatures and all objects, in degree,
Are friends and patrons of humanity.--MS. 1835.

The Rocking-stones, alluded to in the beginning of the following verses, are supposed to have been used, by our British ancestors, both for judicial and religious purposes. Such stones are not uncommonly found, at this day, both in Great Britain and in Ireland.--W. W. 1835.

[These verses and those entitled "Liberty" were composed as one piece, which Mrs. Wordsworth complained of as unwieldy and ill-proportioned; and accordingly it was divided into two, on her judicious recommendation.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--ED.

What though the Accused, upon his own appeal
To righteous Gods when man has ceased to feel,
Or at a doubting Judge's stern command,
Before the STONE OF POWER no longer stand--
To take his sentence from the balanced Block, 5
As, at his touch, it rocks, or seems to rock;[619]
Though, in the depths of sunless groves, no more
The Druid-priest the hallowed Oak adore;
Yet, for the Initiate, rocks and whispering trees
Do still perform mysterious offices! 10
And functions dwell in beast and bird that sway
The reasoning mind, or with the fancy play,
Inviting, at all seasons, ears and eyes
To watch for undelusive auguries:--[620]
Not uninspired appear their simplest ways; 15
Their voices mount symbolical of praise--
To mix with hymns that Spirits make and hear;
And to fallen man their innocence is dear.
Enraptured Art draws from those sacred springs
Streams that reflect the poetry of things! 20
Where christian Martyrs stand in hues portrayed,
That, might a wish avail, would never fade,
Borne in their hands the lily and the palm
Shed round the altar a celestial calm;
There, too, behold the lamb and guileless dove 25
Prest in the tenderness of virgin love
To saintly bosoms!--Glorious in the blending
Of right affections climbing or descending
Along a scale of light and life, with cares
Alternate; carrying holy thoughts and prayers 30
Up to the sovereign seat of the Most High;
Descending to the worm in charity;[621]
Like those good Angels whom a dream of night
Gave, in the field of Luz, to Jacob's sight[622]
All, while _he_ slept, treading the pendent stairs 35
Earthward or heavenward, radiant messengers,
That, with a perfect will in one accord
Of strict obedience, serve[623] the Almighty Lord;
And with untired humility forbore
To speed their errand by[624] the wings they wore. 40

What a fair world were ours for verse to paint,
If Power could live at ease with self-restraint!
Opinion bow before the naked sense
Of the great Vision,--faith in Providence;
Merciful over all his creatures, just[625] 45
To the least particle of sentient dust;[626]
But,[627] fixing by immutable decrees,
Seedtime and harvest for his purposes!
Then would be closed the restless oblique eye
That looks for evil like a treacherous spy; 50
Disputes would then relax, like stormy winds
That into breezes sink; impetuous minds
By discipline endeavour to grow meek
As Truth herself, whom they profess to seek.
Then Genius, shunning fellowship with Pride, 55
Would braid his golden locks at Wisdom's side;
Love ebb and flow untroubled by caprice;
And not alone _harsh_ tyranny would cease,
But unoffending creatures find release
From qualified oppression, whose defence 60
Rests on a hollow plea of recompense;
Thought-tempered wrongs, for each humane respect
Oft worse to bear, or deadlier in effect.
Witness those glances of indignant scorn
From some high-minded Slave, impelled to spurn 65
The kindness that would make him less forlorn;
Or, if the soul to bondage be subdued,
His look of pitiable gratitude!

Alas for thee, bright Galaxy of Isles,
Whose[628] day departs in pomp, returns with smiles--
To greet the flowers and fruitage of a land, 71
As the sun mounts, by sea-born breezes fanned;
A land whose azure mountain-tops are seats
For Gods in council, whose green vales, retreats
Fit for the shades of heroes, mingling there 75
To breathe Elysian peace in upper air.

Though cold as winter, gloomy as the grave,
Stone-walls a prisoner make, but not a slave.[629]
Shall man assume a property in man?
Lay on the moral will a withering ban? 80
Shame that our laws at distance still protect[630]
Enormities, which they at home reject!
"Slaves cannot breathe in England"[631]--yet that boast
Is but a mockery! when[632] from coast to coast,
Though _fettered_ slave be none, her floors and soil 85
Groan underneath a weight of slavish toil,
For the poor Many, measured out by rules
Fetched with cupidity from heartless schools,
That to an Idol, falsely called[633] "the Wealth
Of Nations,"[634] sacrifice a People's health, 90
Body and mind and soul; a thirst so keen[635]
Is ever urging on the vast machine
Of sleepless Labour, 'mid whose dizzy wheels
The Power least prized is that which thinks and feels.

Then, for the pastimes of this delicate age, 95
And all the heavy or light vassalage
Which for their sakes we fasten, as may suit
Our varying moods, on human kind or brute,
'Twere well in little, as in great, to pause,
Lest Fancy trifle with eternal laws. 100
Not from his fellows only man may learn
Rights to compare and duties to discern!
All creatures and all objects, in degree,
Are friends and patrons of humanity.
There are to whom the[636] garden, grove, and field, 105
Perpetual lessons of forbearance yield;
Who would not lightly violate the grace
The lowliest flower possesses in its place;
Nor shorten the sweet life, too fugitive, 109
Which nothing less than Infinite Power could give.[637]

FOOTNOTES:

[618] 1837.

HUMANITY.

(WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1829.) 1835.

[619] There are several, so-called, "rocking-stones" in Yorkshire and Lancashire, in Derbyshire, in Cornwall, and in Wales. There are one or two in Scotland, and there used to be several in the Lake District. Some are natural; others artificial.--ED.

[620] 1837.

... offices!
And still in beast and bird a function dwells,
That, while we look and listen, sometimes tells
Upon the heart, in more authentic guise
Than Oracles, or winged Auguries,
Spake to the Science of the ancient wise. 1835.

[621] The author is indebted, here, to a passage in one of Mr. Digby's valuable works.--W. W. 1835.

See his _Of Bodies, and of man's Soul_.--ED.

[622] Genesis xxviii. 12.--ED.

[623] 1845.

... served ... 1835.

[624] 1837.

The ready service of ... 1835.

[625] 1840.

Merciful over all existence, just 1835.

[626] 1837.

Compassionate to all that suffer, just
In the end to every creature born of dust. C.

[627] 1840.

And, ... 1835.

[628] 1837.

Where ... 1835.

[629] Compare Richard Lovelace, _To Althea, from Prison_--

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage.
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for a hermitage.--ED.

[630] 1837.

... should protect 1835.

[631] Compare Cowper's _Task_, book ii. l. 40.--ED.

[632] 1837.

...--a proud boast!
And yet a mockery! if, ... 1835.

[633]

That to a monstrous idol, called ... C.

[634] Compare _The Prelude_, book xiii. ll. 77, 78--

... that idol proudly named
"The Wealth of Nations."--ED.

[635]

The weal of body and soul; so keen a thirst C.

The weal of body, mind, and soul; so keen
A thirst urging ... C.

[636] 1837.

... eternal laws.
There are to whom even ... 1835.

[637] Compare the closing lines of the _Ode, Intimations of Immortality_--

To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.--ED.

"THIS LAWN, A CARPET ALL ALIVE"

Composed 1829.--Published 1835

[This Lawn is the sloping one approaching the kitchen-garden, and was made out of it. Hundreds of times have I watched the dancing of shadows amid a press of sunshine, and other beautiful appearances of light and shade, flowers and shrubs. What a contrast between this and the cabbages and onions and carrots that used to grow there on a piece of ugly-shaped unsightly ground! No reflection, however, either upon cabbages or onions; the latter we know were worshipped by the Egyptians, and he must have a poor eye for beauty who has not observed how much of it there is in the form and colour which cabbages and plants of that genus exhibit through the various stages of their growth and decay. A richer display of colour in vegetable nature can scarcely be conceived than Coleridge, my sister, and I saw in a bed of potato-plants in blossom near a hut upon the moor between Inversneyd and Loch Katrine.[638] These blossoms were of such extraordinary beauty and richness that no one could have passed them without notice. But the sense must be cultivated through the mind before we can perceive these inexhaustible treasures of Nature, for such they really are, without the least necessary reference to the utility of her productions, or even to the laws whereupon, as we learn by research, they are dependent. Some are of opinion that the habit of analysing, decomposing, and anatomising, is inevitably unfavourable to the perception of beauty. People are led into this mistake by overlooking the fact that such processes being to a certain extent within the reach of a limited intellect, we are apt to ascribe to them that insensibility of which they are in truth the effect and not the cause. Admiration and love, to which all knowledge truly vital must tend, are felt by men of real genius in proportion as their discoveries in natural Philosophy are enlarged; and the beauty in form of a plant or an animal is not made less but more apparent as a whole by more accurate insight into its constituent properties and powers. A _Savant_ who is not also a poet in soul and a religionist in heart is a feeble and unhappy creature.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--ED.

This Lawn, a carpet all alive
With shadows flung from leaves--to strive
In dance, amid a press
Of sunshine, an apt emblem yields
Of Worldlings revelling in the fields 5
Of strenuous idleness;[639]

Less quick the stir when tide and breeze
Encounter, and to narrow seas
Forbid a moment's rest;
The medley less when boreal Lights 10
Glance to and fro, like aery Sprites
To feats of arms addrest!

Yet, spite of all this eager strife,
This ceaseless play, the genuine life
That serves the stedfast hours, 15
Is in the grass beneath, that grows
Unheeded, and the mute repose
Of sweetly-breathing flowers.

FOOTNOTES:

[638] In 1803, Miss Wordsworth thus records it:--"We passed by one patch of potatoes that a florist might have been proud of; no carnation-bed ever looked more gay than this square plot of ground on the waste common. The flowers were in very large bunches, and of an extraordinary size, and of every conceivable shade of colouring from snow-white to deep purple. It was pleasing in that place, where perhaps was never yet a flower cultivated by man for his own pleasure, to see these blossoms grow more gladly than elsewhere, making a summer garden near the mountain dwellings." (_Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland in 1803_, p. 85).--ED.

[639] Compare _The Prelude_, book iv. l. 378.--ED.

THOUGHTS[640] ON THE SEASONS

Composed 1829.--Published 1835

[Written at Rydal Mount.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--ED.

Flattered with promise of escape
From every hurtful blast,
Spring takes, O sprightly May! thy shape,
Her loveliest and her last.[641]

Less fair is summer riding high 5
In fierce solstitial power,
Less fair than when a lenient sky
Brings on her parting hour.

When earth repays with golden sheaves
The labours of the plough, 10
And ripening fruits and forest leaves
All brighten on the bough;

What pensive beauty autumn shows,
Before she hears the sound
Of winter rushing in, to close 15
The emblematic round!

Such be our Spring, our Summer such;
So may our Autumn blend
With hoary Winter, and Life touch,
Through heaven-born hope, her end! 20

FOOTNOTES:

[640] 1850.

THOUGHT ... 1835.

The text of 1857 returns to that of 1835.

[641] Compare _Ode, composed on May Morning_, 1826 (p. 146); also _To May_, 1826 (p. 148).--ED.

A TRADITION OF OKER HILL IN DARLEY DALE, DERBYSHIRE[642]

Composed 1829.--Published 1829[643]

[This pleasing tradition was told me by the coachman at whose side I sate while he drove down the dale, he pointing to the trees on the hill as he related the story.--I.F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

'Tis said that to the brow of yon fair hill
Two Brothers clomb, and, turning face from face,
Nor one look more exchanging, grief to still
Or feed, each planted on that lofty place
A chosen Tree;[644] then, eager to fulfil 5
Their courses, like two new-born rivers, they
In opposite directions urged their way
Down from the far-seen mount. No blast might kill
Or blight that fond memorial;--the trees grew,
And now entwine their arms; but ne'er again 10
Embraced those Brothers upon earth's wide plain;
Nor aught of mutual joy or sorrow knew
Until their spirits mingled in the sea
That to itself takes all, Eternity.

FOOTNOTES:

[642] 1837.

A TRADITION OF DARLEY DALE, DERBYSHIRE. 1832.

[643] In _The Keepsake_.--ED.

[644] Mr. T. W. Shore (Southampton), writes to me: "The two trees referred to by the poet are still on the hill, and called the Shore Trees. The family of Shore is an ancient one in Derbyshire, extending back to the reign of Richard II. In the time of Charles I, several members of the family impoverished themselves in support of the Royalist cause.... The trees on Oker Hill are supposed to have been planted by those who remembered the family misfortunes, or who succeeded the family which took part in the 17th century struggle."--ED.

FILIAL PIETY

(ON THE WAYSIDE BETWEEN PRESTON AND LIVERPOOL)

Composed 1829 (probably).--Published 1832

[This was also communicated to me by a coachman in the same way.[645] In the course of my many coach rambles and journeys, which, during the day-time always, and often in the night, were taken on the outside of the coach, I had good and frequent opportunities of learning the characteristics of this class of men. One remark I made that is worth recording; that whenever I had occasion especially to notice their well-ordered, respectful and kind behaviour to women, of whatever age, I found them, I may say almost always, to be married men.--I.F.]

This happened near Ormskirk. Thomas Scarisbrick was killed by a flash of lightning, whilst building a turf-stack in 1799. His son James completed the work, and kept it intact during his life-time. James was buried April 21st, 1824. Wordsworth was therefore wrong as to the "fifty winters."--ED.

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

Untouched through all severity of cold;
Inviolate, whate'er the cottage hearth
Might need for comfort, or for festal mirth;
That Pile of Turf is half a century old:
Yes, Traveller! fifty winters have been told 5
Since suddenly the dart of death went forth
'Gainst him who raised it,--his last work on earth:
Thence has it, with the Son, so strong a hold
Upon his Father's memory, that his hands,
Through reverence, touch it only to repair[646] 10
Its waste.--Though crumbling with each breath of air,
In annual renovation thus it stands--
Rude Mausoleum! but wrens nestle there,
And red-breasts warble when sweet sounds are rare.

FOOTNOTES:

[645] Compare the Fenwick note to _A Tradition of Oker Hill in Darley_ _Dale, Derbyshire_, p. 230.--ED.

[646] 1837.

Thence by his Son more prized than aught which gold
Could purchase--watched, preserved by his own hands,
That, faithful to the Structure, still repair 1832.

1830

The Poems written in 1830 include, _The Armenian Lady's Love_, _The Russian Fugitive_, _The Egyptian Maid_, the Elegiac Stanzas on Sir George Beaumont, and several minor pieces.--ED.

THE ARMENIAN LADY'S LOVE

Composed 1830.--Published 1835

The subject of the following poem is from the Orlandus of the author's friend, Kenelm Henry Digby: and the liberty is taken of inscribing it to him as an acknowledgment, however unworthy, of pleasure and instruction derived from his numerous and valuable writings, illustrative of the piety and chivalry of the olden time.--W. W.

[Written at Rydal Mount.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."--ED.

I

You have heard "a Spanish Lady
How she wooed an English man;"[647]
Hear now of a fair Armenian,
Daughter of the proud Soldàn;
How she loved a Christian Slave, and told her pain 5
By word, look, deed, with hope that he might love again.

II

"Pluck that rose, it moves my liking,"
Said she, lifting up her veil;
"Pluck it for me, gentle gardener,
Ere it wither and grow pale." 10
"Princess fair, I till the ground, but may not take
From twig or bed an humbler flower, even for your sake!"

III

"Grieved am I, submissive Christian!
To behold thy captive state;
Women, in your land, may pity 15
(May they not?) the unfortunate."
"Yes, kind Lady! otherwise man could not bear
Life, which to every one that breathes is full of care."

IV

"Worse than idle is compassion
If it end in tears and sighs; 20
Thee from bondage would I rescue
And from vile indignities;
Nurtured, as thy mien bespeaks, in high degree,
Look up--and help a hand that longs to set thee free."

V

"Lady! dread the wish, nor venture 25
In such peril to engage;
Think how it would stir against you
Your most loving father's rage:
Sad deliverance would it be, and yoked with shame,
Should troubles overflow on her from whom it came." 30

VI

"Generous Frank! the just in effort
Are of inward peace secure:
Hardships for the brave encountered,
Even the feeblest may endure:
If almighty grace through me thy chains unbind 35
My father for slave's work may seek a slave in mind."

VII

"Princess, at this burst of goodness,
My long-frozen heart grows warm!"
"Yet you make all courage fruitless,
Me to save from chance of harm: 40
Leading such companion I that gilded dome,
Yon minarets, would gladly leave for his worst home."

VIII

"Feeling tunes your voice, fair Princess!
And your brow is free from scorn,
Else these words would come like mockery, 45
Sharper than the pointed thorn."
"Whence the undeserved mistrust? Too wide apart
Our faith hath been,--O would that eyes could see the heart!"

IX

"Tempt me not, I pray; my doom is
These base implements to wield; 50
Rusty lance, I ne'er shall grasp thee,
Ne'er assoil my cobwebb'd shield!
Never see my native land, nor castle towers,
Nor Her who thinking of me there counts widowed hours."

X

"Prisoner! pardon youthful fancies; 55
Wedded? If you _can_, say no!
Blessed is and be your consort;
Hopes I cherished--let them go!
Handmaid's privilege would leave my purpose free,
Without another link to my felicity." 60

XI

"Wedded love with loyal Christians,
Lady, is a mystery rare;
Body, heart, and soul in union,
Make one being of a pair."
"Humble love in me would look for no return, 65
Soft as a guiding star that cheers, but cannot burn."

XII

"Gracious Allah! by such title
Do I dare to thank the God,
Him who thus exalts thy spirit,
Flower of an unchristian sod! 70
Or hast thou put off wings which thou in heaven dost wear?
What have I seen, and heard or dreamt? where am I? where?"

XIII

Here broke off the dangerous converse:
Less impassioned words might tell
How the pair escaped together, 75
Tears not wanting, nor a knell
Of sorrow in her heart while through her father's door,
And from her narrow world, she passed for evermore.

XIV

But affections higher, holier,
Urged her steps; she shrunk from trust 80
In a sensual creed that trampled
Woman's birthright into dust.
Little be the wonder then, the blame be none,
If she, a timid Maid, hath put such boldness on.

XV

Judge both Fugitives with knowledge: 85
In those old romantic days
Mighty were the soul's commandments
To support, restrain, or raise.
Foes might hang upon their path, snakes rustle near,
But nothing from their inward selves had they to fear. 90

XVI

Thought infirm ne'er came between them,
Whether printing desert sands
With accordant steps, or gathering
Forest-fruit with social hands; 94
Or whispering like two reeds that in the cold moonbeam
Bend with the breeze their heads, beside a crystal stream.

XVII

On a friendly deck reposing
They at length for Venice steer;
There, when they had closed their voyage,
One, who daily on the pier 100
Watched for tidings from the East, beheld his Lord,
Fell down and clasped his knees for joy, not uttering word.

XVIII

Mutual was the sudden transport;
Breathless questions followed fast,
Years contracting to a moment, 105
Each word greedier than the last;
"Hie thee to the Countess, friend! return with speed,
And of this Stranger speak by whom her lord was freed.

XIX

Say that I, who might have languished,
Drooped and pined till life was spent, 110
Now before the gates of Stolberg[648]
My Deliverer would present
For a crowning recompense, the precious grace
Of her who in my heart still holds her ancient place.

XX

Make it known that my Companion 115
Is of royal eastern blood,
Thirsting after all perfection,
Innocent, and meek, and good,
Though with misbelievers bred; but that dark night
Will holy Church disperse by beams of gospel-light." 120

XXI

Swiftly went that grey-haired Servant,
Soon returned a trusty Page
Charged with greetings, benedictions,
Thanks and praises, each a gage
For a sunny thought to cheer the Stranger's way, 125
Her virtuous scruples to remove, her fears allay.

XXII

And how blest the Reunited,
While beneath their castle-walls,
Runs a deafening noise of welcome!--
Blest, though every tear that falls 130
Doth in its silence of past sorrow tell,
And makes[649] a meeting seem most like a dear farewell.

XXIII

Through a haze of human nature,
Glorified by heavenly light,
Looked the beautiful Deliverer 135
On that overpowering sight,
While across her virgin cheek pure blushes strayed,
For every tender sacrifice her heart had made.

XXIV

On the ground the weeping Countess
Knelt, and kissed the Stranger's hand; 140
Act of soul-devoted homage,
Pledge of an eternal band:
Nor did aught of future days that kiss belie,
Which, with a generous shout, the crowd did ratify.

XXV

Constant to the fair Armenian, 145
Gentle pleasures round her moved,
Like a tutelary spirit
Reverenced, like a sister, loved.
Christian meekness smoothed for all the path of life, 149
Who, loving most, should wiseliest love, their only strife.

XXVI

Mute memento of that union
In a Saxon church survives,
Where a cross-legged Knight lies sculptured
As between two wedded Wives--
Figures with armorial signs of race and birth, 155
And the vain rank the pilgrims bore while yet on earth.

FOOTNOTES:

[647] See, in Percy's _Reliques_, that fine old ballad, "The Spanish Lady's Love;" from which Poem the form of stanza, as suitable to dialogue, is adopted.--W. W. 1835.

[648] A small town in Prussian-Saxony, the residence of the Counts of Stolberg-Stolberg.--ED.

[649] 1836.

Fancy (while, to banners floating
High on Stolberg's Castle walls,
Deafening noise of welcome mounted,
Trumpets, Drums, and Atabals,)
The devout embraces still, while such tears fell
As made ... 1835.

THE RUSSIAN FUGITIVE[650]

Composed 1830.--Published 1835

[Early in life this story had interested me, and I often thought it would make a pleasing subject for an opera or musical drama.--I. F.]

In 1837 this poem was placed among those grouped as "Yarrow revisited, etc." In 1845 it was transferred to the "Miscellaneous Poems."--ED.