THE POETICAL WORKS
OF
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
VOL. VI

THE POETICAL WORKS
OF
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

EDITED BY

WILLIAM KNIGHT

VOL. VI

London

MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd.
NEW YORK: MACMILLAN & CO.
1896

[Pg v]

CONTENTS

1814

1815

1816

1817

1818

1819

1820

[Pg 1]

WORDSWORTH'S POETICAL WORKS
1814

The Excursion—to which the fifth volume of this edition is devoted—has been assigned to the year 1814; since it was finished, and first published, in that year,—although commenced in 1795. During the earlier stages of its composition, this poem was known, in the Wordsworth household, as "The Pedlar"; and Dorothy Wordsworth tells us in one of her letters to the Beaumonts, preserved amongst the Coleorton MSS., that "The Pedlar" was finished at Christmas 1804. See also the Memoirs of Wordsworth, by his nephew (vol. i. p. 304, etc.), and Dorothy's Grasmere Journal, passim. But The Excursion, as we have it now, was finished for press in 1814. The poems more immediately belonging to that year are Laodamia, the Memorials of a Tour in Scotland, Dion, and two Sonnets.—Ed.

LAODAMIA

Composed 1814.—Published 1815.

[Written at Rydal Mount. The incident of the trees growing and withering put the subject into my thoughts, and I wrote with the hope of giving it a loftier tone than, so far as I know, has been given to it by any of the Ancients who have treated of it. It cost me more trouble than almost anything of equal length I have ever written.—I.F.]

In 1815 and 1820 this poem was one of those "founded on the Affections"; afterwards it was classed among the "Poems of the Imagination."—Ed.

[Pg 2]

[Pg 9]

After meeting the Wordsworths at Charles Lamb's, on the 9th May 1815, Henry Crabb Robinson wrote in his Diary: "It is the mere power which he is conscious of exerting in which he delights, not the production of a work in which men rejoice on account of the sympathies and sensibilities it excites in them. Hence, he does not much esteem his Laodamia, as it belongs to the inferior class of poems founded on the affections." (See Diary, Reminiscences, and Correspondence, vol. i. p. 482.)

Wordsworth wrote thus to Walter Savage Landor, from Rydal Mount, on the 21st of January 1824:—

"You have condescended to minute criticism upon the Laodamia.[D] I concur with you in the first stanza, and had several times attempted to alter it upon your grounds. I cannot, however, accede to your objection to the 'second birth,' merely because the expression has been degraded by Conventiclers.[E] I certainly meant nothing more by it than the eadem cura, and the largior æther, etc., of Virgil's Sixth Æneid. All religions owe their origin or acceptation to the wish of the human heart to supply in another state of existence the deficiencies of this, and to carry still nearer to perfection what we admire in our present condition, so that there must be many modes of expression arising out of this coincidence, or rather identity of feeling common to all Mythologies; and under this observation I should shelter the phrase from your censure—but I may be wrong in the particular case, though certainly not in the general principle. This leads to a remark in your last—'that you are disgusted with all books that treat of religion.' I am afraid it is a bad sign in me, that I have little relish for any other. Even in poetry it is the imaginative only, viz., that which is conversant with or turns upon Infinity, that powerfully affects me. Perhaps I ought to explain: I mean to say that except in those passages, where things are lost in each other, and limits vanish, and aspirations are raised, I read with something too like indifference; but all great Poets are in this view powerful Religionists."

In 1815 Charles Lamb wrote to Wordsworth, "Laodamia is a very original poem; I mean original with reference to your own manner. You have nothing like it. I should have seen it in a strange place, and greatly admired it, but not suspected its [Pg 10]derivation." (The Letters of Charles Lamb, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p. 284.)

Mr. Hazlitt wrote of Laodamia: "It breathes the pure spirit of the finest fragments of antiquity—the sweetness, the gravity, the strength, the beauty, and the languor of Death. Its glossy brilliancy arises from the perfection of the finishing, like that of careful sculpture, not from gaudy colouring—the texture of the thoughts has the smoothness and solidity of marble. It is a poem that might be read aloud in Elysium, and the spirits of departed heroes and sages would gather round to listen to it."

I am indebted to the Headmaster of Fettes College, Edinburgh, the Rev. W. A. Heard, for the following illustrative notes on Laodamia:—

"This poem illustrates more completely than any other the sympathy of the poet with the spirit of antiquity in its purest and most exalted forms. The idea that underlies the poem is the same conception of 'pietas' which Virgil has embodied in the Æneid, and with which he has associated, especially in the sixth book, which Wordsworth in many passages recalls, great ethical and religious conceptions, derived in the main from the philosophy of Plato. 'Pietas' embraces all the duties of life that are based upon the affections—love of home and parents and children, love of the Gods of our Fathers, and a reverence for that great order of things in which man finds himself a part. The pious man believes in a destiny, or order transcending his own will: to exalt any passion, however innocent, above this, is a rebellion; to intensify any passion, so as to disturb the appropriate calm of resignation, is to act irreverently against the gods. Lesser duties must give way to greater: love of wife must give way to love of country, and the sorrow of bereavement must not obscure the larger issues of life. Thus, not only did Laodamia's yearning for the restoration of her husband to life show a failure to recognise the fixity of eternal laws, but her death was 'ὑπὲρ μόρον' and in reason's spite; it was, after all, self-will, and could not win the favour of heaven.

Blending with this notion of 'pietas,' we find the Platonic repudiation of sensuous and material life. This life is only a discipline under imperfect conditions, and to be set free from the passion and fretfulness of existence is the choice and longing of the wise.

The poem is thus notable, not so much for the assimilation of details, as for natural affinity to the spirituality of antiquity, of which Virgil is the purest exponent. Virgil's seriousness, his[Pg 11] tenderness, his conception of the inevitable, and yet moral, order of the world, his desire for purification, his sadness, and yet complete freedom from unmanliness, his love of nature and belief in the sympathy of nature with man—all these are points of contact between the ancient and modern poet.

Offerings were made to the infernal deities in the interval between midnight and sunrise. See Virgil's Æneid, vi. 242-258. Sil. Ital., xiii. 405.

It is men's wont to offer to the buried shades the proper expiations of black sheep on the verge of dawn.

Neither face nor hue remained unchanged, nor braided the locks of her hair: but the bosom heaves and the heart swells wild with frenzy, and she is more majestic to behold, and her voice has no mortal sound.

Then he takes the wand: with this he summons pale ghosts from Orcus, others he sends to gloomy Tartarus below: with this he gives and takes away sleep.

Thrice thereon he tried to cast his arms around his neck: thrice was the phantom grasped in vain and escaped the embrace, unsubstantial as the fleeting winds and shadowy like as winged sleep.

[Pg 12]

'Vicit iter durum pietas,' is realised by these lines. 'Fidelity has prevailed to traverse the awful path.'

An oracle, moreover, destines some one or other for a cruel doom, who first of the Greeks sets foot on Trojan soil.

Unhappy wife who shall be the first to lament a husband slain: God grant you may not choose the forward part: this warning too I give, be last to disembark: 'tis no fatherland to hasten to, no fatherland for you.

When will the time be that you will share the couch, and lovingly at my side recount the glorious deeds of your warfare?

Cf. Euripides, Iphigeneia in Aulide, 547:

And again:

This refers to the struggle between Hercules and Θάνατος.

The story is found in Ovid, Metamorphoses, vii. 159-293.

This is a perfect rendering of the tone of the Sixth Æneid.

The charm of chariot and armour that they had in life, and the same care to pasture their glossy steeds, follow them deep buried under earth.

Here an 'ampler ether' spreads around the plains, and clothes them in purple light, and they recognise a sun of their own, their own constellations.—Æneid vi. 640.

But his wife too had been left at Phylace, her cheeks all marred with grief, and his palace half-finished.

For neither of a surety ought I to cling to life too fondly.—Iphigeneia in Aulide, 1385.

It is from the character of Iphigeneia that Wordsworth derives these traits.

[Pg 14]

We think of Virgil's tender line in the similar passage about Orpheus and Eurydice. Georg. iv. 488.

Pardonable indeed, were pardon known in the world of death.

Virg. Æn. vi. 445—

Those who died of love dwelt in the 'Lugentes Campi,' in the outer regions of Orcus.

The passage in Pliny is—

Sunt hodie ex adverso Iliensium urbis juxta Hellespontum in Protesilai sepulcro arbores, quae omnibus aevis cum in tantum accrevere ut Ilium aspiciant, inarescunt rursusque adolescunt.—Hist. Nat. 16, 44 (88).

Opposite to Ilium and close to the Hellespont there are to this day trees growing on Protesilaus' tomb, which, in every generation, as soon as they have grown high enough to see Ilium, wither away and again shoot up.

Cf. Anthologia Graeca Pal. vii. 141.

But right opposite hated Ilium the nymphs shroud thy tomb with a roof of elms; trees blighting with a lasting wrath, and if ever they see the walls of Troy, they shed their withering leaves.

And again, vii. 385—

For a legend showing a similar sympathy between nature and man, see Æneid, iii. 22."

[Pg 15]

As Wordsworth tells us in the Fenwick note to Laodamia, that "it cost him more trouble than almost anything of equal length he had ever written," and as there are many incomplete passages and suppressed readings among his MSS., the two following stanzas—intended at first to follow the second stanza in the poem as it now stands—may be given in a supplementary note.—Ed.

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN SCOTLAND

1814

On the 18th July 1814, Wordsworth left Rydal, on a second visit to Scotland, accompanied by his wife, and her sister, Sarah Hutchinson.—Ed.

[In this tour, my wife and her sister Sara were my companions. The account of the "Brownie's Cell" and the Brownies was given me by a man we met with on the banks of Loch Lomond, a little above Tarbert, and in front of a huge mass of rock, by the side of which, we were told, preachings were often held in the open air. The place is quite a solitude, and the surrounding scenery very striking. How much is it to be regretted that, instead of writing such Poems as the Holy Fair and others, in which the religious observances of his country are treated with so much levity and too often with indecency, Burns had not employed his genius in describing religion under the serious and affecting[Pg 16] aspects it must so frequently take.[F]—I.F.]

The poems of this series were collected under their common title in the edition of 1827.—Ed.

I

SUGGESTED BY A BEAUTIFUL RUIN UPON ONE OF THE ISLANDS OF LOCH LOMOND, A PLACE CHOSEN FOR THE RETREAT OF A SOLITARY INDIVIDUAL,[13] FROM WHOM THIS HABITATION ACQUIRED THE NAME OF

THE BROWNIE'S CELL

Composed 1814.—Published 1820

I

[Pg 17]

II

III

IV

V

[Pg 19]

VI

VII

[Pg 20]

VIII

IX

X

The text of this poem was unaltered in the successive editions with a single exception, occurring in the first line. It was suggested by, and was a reminiscence of the tour in Scotland of 1814; but in 1803 Wordsworth visited the same spot alluded to in the Fenwick note, accompanied by his sister, who thus describes it: "The most remarkable object we saw was a huge single stone, I believe three or four times the size of Bowder Stone. The top of it, which on one side was sloping like the roof of a house, was covered with heather.... The ferryman told us that a preaching was held there once in three months by a certain minister—I think of Arrochar—who engages, as a part of his office, to perform the service. The interesting feelings we had connected with the Highland Sabbath and Highland worship returned here with double force. The rock, though on one side a high perpendicular wall, in no place overhung so as to form a shelter, in no place could it be more than a screen from the elements. Why then had it been selected for such a purpose? Was it merely from being a central situation and a conspicuous object? Or did there belong to it some inheritance of superstition from old times? It is impossible to look at the stone without asking, How came it hither? Had then that obscurity and unaccountableness, that mystery of power which is about it, any influence over the first persons who resorted hither for worship? Or have they now on those who continue to frequent it? The lake is in front of the perpendicular wall, and behind, at some distance, and totally detached from it, is the continuation of the ridge of mountain which forms the Vale of Loch Lomond—a magnificent temple, of which this spot is a noble Sanctum Sanctorum." (Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland, A.D. 1803, pp. 225-6.) The late Rev. William Macintosh of Buchanan supplied me with the following information in reference to the Brownie's Cell and the Pulpit Rock:—"I have little doubt that the Brownie's Cell is the name given by Wordsworth to a small vault, itself a ruin among the ruins of an old stronghold of the Macfarlanes in Eilan Vhow, an islet about three miles from the head of the Loch. The name of the islet is spelt in different ways; sometimes as I [Pg 22]have given it, sometimes Eilan Vow, or Eilan-a Vhu; no one whom I consulted could tell me the right spelling. In the early part of this century, the vault was the headquarters of a pedlar of the name of Macfarlane. He may have been the Hermit; and there is a story of his having been frightened by the sudden apparition of a negro, (probably the first he had ever seen), who had been ordered by his master—an English officer—to swim across for that purpose: and it is said that he never again visited the cell.

The Pulpit Rock, also called by a Gaelic name meaning the Bull Stone, is a very large boulder, or detached rock, which is likely to 'stand' as long as Ben Lomond. In the face of it, there is an artificial doorway and recess, which at one time the Parish Minister used to occupy as a Pulpit for occasional services. The audience sat on turf seats ranged round the foot of the Rock. The pulpit was reached by a few steps cut out, I suppose, in the Rock: but it has never been used for the last twenty years. The 'occasional' services are now held in a neighbouring schoolroom."

Mr. Malcolm M'Farlane, a very intelligent sheep farmer in Buchanan parish, supplies the following additional information about the Cell and the Rock:—"The 'Pulpit Rock' is a cell in the face of a large stone, blasted out with gunpowder. The proper appellation is, in Gaelic, 'Clach-nan-Tairbh,' literally translated the 'Stone of the Bulls.' It was formed about 50 or 60 years ago, the then minister of Arrochar, Mr. Proudfoot, had promised to preach in that part of his parish, on several occasions during the year, provided they would get up a place for his reception.... It was capable of containing three or four persons inside, was done up with wood work, an outer and inner door, with stone steps leading to the recess. They were not formed out of the rock, but other stones got up for the purpose, and turf seats laid out for the hearers, who were all exposed to the weather, except so far as they might be sheltered by the rock. The service has been discontinued at the rock for about twenty-five years, and is now held at a schoolhouse. The doors are gone, and no portion of the wood work remains. The cell is now used only as a nightly retreat for mendicants, tinkers," etc. Wordsworth's reference, in the Fenwick note, to Burns's Holy Fair induces me to quote what follows in Mr. M'Farlane's letter:—"Open air preaching was then very general in the Highlands: the people came long distances, travelled over hills, even in inclement weather, to attend them.[Pg 23] An individual who kept a small inn, on the loch side opposite Inversnaid, used regularly to attend the meetings with a supply of whisky; but he remained behind the 'rock' till the services were over, when the people partook of his refreshments. Also, on the north side of Loch Katrine, the minister of Callander used to conduct services in the open air, on several occasions during the year, in that distant part of his parish. An old man, who lived near the Trossachs, whom I remember very well, regularly attended with a supply of whisky. Dr. Robertson, who was then minister, after concluding the sermon, had gone to an adjoining farm house. The people had indulged too freely, so that a fight commenced (the same thing had happened on several occasions before). The Doctor had to leave his dinner in order to get them separated, and to put an end to the battle, but he never allowed any more whisky to be brought to the place afterwards.... These may be irrelevant matters, but they might illustrate a chapter in Lecky's History of Morals, as there is more decorum now observed. Since writing the above, I have thought that if the pulpit-rock is mentioned in Miss Wordsworth's Tour, Mr. M'Nicol, my informant, must have made a mistake in stating the time it was made, as about 50 or 60 years ago; but it cannot have been much more than 80 years, as it is not very long since some of the people who were engaged in the operation died.

"Regarding the island near the head of Loch Lomond which is termed 'Eilan (Island) Vow' in Black's Guide, and somewhat differently spelt in others, in the original Gaelic it is 'Eilan a Bhūth.' Būth is a Gaelic name for a shop, so that it is 'the island of the shop.' The English Vow has no connection whatever with the Gaelic, and is perfectly unintelligible. It is part of undoubted traditional history that the chiefs of the Clan M'Farlane, who owned a considerable portion of the adjoining lands, had their residence here. In these turbulent times islands were considered more secure, as surrounded with water. They kept a 'shop' in the island, from which they supplied the little wants of the surrounding population, so that it is perfectly clear how the Island derived its name. A good portion of the stronghold is still in good preservation. A part of the wall is about thirty feet high. It is a very old building. Mr. M'Nicol states that he had learned from his grandfather, by the tradition in the family, that it was erected between the eleventh and the twelfth century. The late Sir James Colquhoun, about twelve years ago, laid out some money for keeping the walls in[Pg 24] preservation. At the bottom of the Fort, and below the level of the floor, is the 'Brownie's Cell,' several steps leading down to it, and it is partly underground. It is about twelve feet wide, and sixteen feet long, with an arched roof, the mason work being still in good repair. There is some glimmering light emitted by two small apertures formed in the walls at each end. I have been unable to obtain any specific information what purpose it served in connection with the other building. Some said that it must have been a prison, and others a store for the shop. It might have been a prison at first, and afterwards, in more pacific times, used as a store.

"About the beginning of this century, the Island was occupied by a very eccentric individual, who led the life of a hermit, and took up his abode in this recess. He made frequent excursions out of it, but always returned to his Island-home before the end of the week. It was not then planted with wood, so that he cultivated a part of the ground, raised some crops, kept some poultry. He trained the poultry to fly on the approach of any stranger, so that they could not be got hold of, or taken away in his absence from the Island. He also kept a curious diary, in which local events, his own doings and opinions, were recorded in great detail, expressed in very quaint language. It was by the age of the moon, and not by the days of the month, that events were entered in the diary. He also cultivated astrology, and believed in the evil influence of some of the stars. He had a firm belief in ghosts; but he never was so frightened as when the Black Man (that is the negro), who he thought belonged to the invisible world, swam to the island. Of that adventure I have not been able to obtain a more detailed account, but his landing there very nearly put him out of his wits. The grandfather of the present Duke of Montrose had, on one occasion, visited the Island; and, when landing, the Hermit addressed him, 'James Graham, the Duke of Montrose, you are welcome to come and see my Island.'..."

There is no evidence that the ruin was once "a consecrated Pile," as stated in the poem. Wordsworth had evidently heard of the Hermit's writings, as mentioned by Mr. M'Farlane. See stanza vi., "guiding a pen unwearied."

In the Diary, Reminiscences, and Correspondence of Henry Crabb Robinson, there is an entry, dated January 2, 1820:—"Went to Lamb's, where I found Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth.... Not much was said about his (W.'s) new volume of Poems. He himself spoke of The Brownie's Cell as his favourite" [Pg 25](vol. ii. p. 162). In the following year Mr. Crabb Robinson himself visited Scotland, and wrote thus on the 16th September:—"Being on the western side of Loch Lomond, opposite the Mill at Inversnaid, some women kindled a fire, the smoke of which was to be a signal for a ferryboat. No ferryman came; and a feeble old man offering himself as a boatman, I intrusted myself to him. I asked the women who he was. They said, 'That's old Andrew.' According to their account he lived a hermit's life in a lone island on the lake; the poor peasantry giving him meal, and what he wanted, and he picking up pence. On my asking him whether he would take me across the lake, he said, 'I wull, if you'll gi'e me saxpence.' So I consented. But before I was half over I repented of my rashness, for I feared the oars would fall out of his hands. A breath of wind would have rendered half the voyage too much for him. There was some cunning mixed up with the fellow's seeming imbecility, for when his strength was failing he rested, and entered into talk, manifestly to amuse me. He said he could see things before they happened. He saw the Radicals before they came, etc. He had picked up a few words of Spanish and German, which he uttered ridiculously, and laughed. But when I put troublesome questions he affected not to understand me; and was quite astonished, as well as delighted, when I gave him two sixpences instead of the one he had bargained for. The simple-minded women, who affected to look down on him, seemed, however, to stand in awe of him, and no wonder. On my telling Wordsworth this history, he exclaimed, 'That's my "Brownie!"' His Brownie's Cell is by no means one of my favourite poems. My sight of old Andrew showed me the stuff out of which a poetical mind can weave such a web" (vol. ii. pp. 212, 213).

Compare the sequel to this poem, The Brownie, in the "Yarrow Revisited and other Poems," of the Tour made in Scotland in the autumn of 1831.—Ed.

[Pg 26]

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

II
COMPOSED AT CORA LINN,

In sight of Wallace's Tower

Composed 1814.—Published 1820

[I had seen this celebrated Waterfall twice before; but the feelings to which it had given birth were not expressed till they recurred in presence of the object on this occasion.—I.F.]

VARIANT:

FOOTNOTES:

III
EFFUSION,

In the Pleasure-Ground on the Banks of the Bran, near Dunkeld

Composed 1814.—Published 1827

[I am not aware that this condemnatory effusion was ever seen by the owner of the place. He might be disposed to pay little attention to it; but were it to prove otherwise I should be glad, for the whole exhibition is distressingly puerile.—I.F.]

"The waterfall, by a loud roaring, warned us when we must expect it. We were first, however, conducted into a small apartment, where the Gardener desired us to look at a picture of Ossian, which, while he was telling the history of the young [Pg 29]Artist who executed the work, disappeared, parting in the middle—flying asunder as by the touch of magic—and lo! we are at the entrance of a splendid apartment, which was almost dizzy and alive with waterfalls, that tumbled in all directions; the great cascade, opposite the window, which faced us, being reflected in innumerable mirrors upon the ceiling and against the walls."—Extract from the Journal of my Fellow-Traveller.[L]

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

"FROM THE DARK CHAMBERS OF DEJECTION FREED"

Composed 1814.—Published 1815

[Composed in Edinburgh, during my Scotch tour with Mrs. Wordsworth and my sister, Miss Hutchinson, in the year 1814. Poor Gillies never rose above that course of extravagance in which he was at that time living, and which soon reduced him to poverty and all its degrading shifts, mendicity being far from the worst. I grieve whenever I think of him, for he was far from being without genius, and had a generous heart, not always to be found in men given up to profusion. He was nephew of Lord Gillies, the Scotch judge, and also of the [Pg 34]historian of Greece. He was cousin to Miss Margaret Gillies, who painted so many portraits with success in our house.—I.F.]

Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." In 1815 the sonnet was headed To ——.—Ed.

I am indebted to Miss Margaret Gillies—the artist referred to in the Fenwick note—for information in reference to her cousin, the subject of this sonnet. Robert Pearce Gillies was a man of unquestionable talent, but eccentric and extravagant. He inherited a considerable fortune, some £1500 a year, from his father, which he lost. He was editor of the Foreign Quarterly Review, was very intimate with De Quincey, and knew Sir Walter Scott, Wordsworth, and Quillinan well. He translated several German poems and novels, of which Scott thought highly. He was the author of Memoirs of a Literary Veteran (1851), in which (vol. ii. pp. 137-173) there is a sketch of Wordsworth, and several letters from him. He was [Pg 35]also an accomplished musician, playing the violin admirably. He lived near Hawthornden.

The expression "faded" or "fading grove," which Wordsworth applies to Roslin, may refer merely to the season of the year, viz. September.—Ed.

A sonnet written by Gillies, and addressed to Wordsworth, may be quoted in this note. It was transcribed by Mrs. Wordsworth into a copy of the 4to edition of The Excursion (1814), which was presented by the Poet to his grandson.

To the Author of The Excursion

VARIANTS:

IV
YARROW VISITED

September, 1814

Composed 1814.—Published 1815

[As mentioned in my verses on the death of the Ettrick Shepherd, my first visit to Yarrow was in his company. We had lodged the night before at Traquair, where Hogg had joined us, and also Dr. Anderson, the Editor of the British Poets, who was on a visit at the Manse. Dr. A. walked with[Pg 36] us till we came in view of the Vale of Yarrow, and, being advanced in life, he then turned back. The old man was passionately fond of poetry, though with not much of a discriminating judgment, as the Volumes he edited sufficiently shew. But I was much pleased to meet with him, and to acknowledge my obligation to his collection, which had been my brother John's companion in more than one voyage to India, and which he gave me before his departure from Grasmere, never to return. Through these Volumes I became first familiar with Chaucer, and so little money had I then to spare for books, that, in all probability, but for this same work, I should have known little of Drayton, Daniel, and other distinguished poets of the Elizabethan age, and their immediate successors, till a much later period of my life. I am glad to record this, not from any importance of its own, but, as a tribute of gratitude to this simple-hearted old man, whom I never again had the pleasure of meeting. I seldom read or think of this poem without regretting that my dear Sister was not of the party, as she would have had so much delight in recalling the time, when, travelling together in Scotland, we declined going in search of this celebrated stream, not altogether, I will frankly confess, for the reasons assigned in the poem on the occasion.—I.F.]

In 1815 and 1820 this was one of the "Poems of the Imagination." In 1827 it became one of the "Memorials of a Tour in Scotland" of 1814.

The MS. readings to this poem are taken from a copy in a letter by Dorothy Wordsworth to Mrs. Clarkson, dated November 11, 1814.—Ed.

Compare Yarrow Unvisited, vol. ii. p. 411; also Yarrow Revisited, composed in 1831; and Principal Shairp's Essay entitled "The Three Yarrows," in his Aspects of Poetry. "I meant to mention Yarrow Visited, with that stanza, 'But thou, that didst appear so fair'; than which I think no lovelier stanza can be found in the wide world of poetry;—yet the poem, on the whole, seems condemned to leave behind it a melancholy of imperfect satisfaction, as if you had wronged the feeling with which, in what preceded it, you had resolved never to visit it, and as if the Muse had determined, in the most[Pg 40] delicate manner, to make you, and scarce make you, feel it. Else, it is far superior to the other,[R] which has but one exquisite verse in it, the last but one, or the last two: this is all fine, except perhaps that that of 'studious ease, and generous cares,' has a little tinge of the less romantic about it." Charles Lamb to Wordsworth, in 1815. (See The Letters of Charles Lamb, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p. 286.)—Ed.

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

LINES

Written[40] on a blank leaf in a copy of the author's poem "The Excursion," upon hearing of the death of the late Vicar of Kendal.

Composed 1814.—Published 1815

One of the "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces."—Ed.

The Annals of Kendal—an octavo volume containing information on all subjects of historical or antiquarian interest connected with the town—contains no reference to Mr. Murfitt, except a copy of the inscription on his monument. He was instituted vicar of Kendal in 1806, and died on the 7th November 1814. The following is a copy of the inscription.

[Pg 41]

The monument is erected against the north wall of the Parish Church of Kendal.

The phrase in the second line of the sonnet, "this unfinished Song," refers to The Excursion being only part of a longer unfinished poem, The Recluse. (See the preface to the edition of 1814.)—Ed.

VARIANT:

1815

In 1815 few poems were written, with the exception of the Dedication to The White Doe of Rylstone, one or two sonnets, and Artegal and Elidure. If we were to trust entirely to the Fenwick note to Laodamia, Artegal and Elidure would require to be transferred, along with it and Dion, to 1814. When Wordsworth, in 1845, separated the Ode, beginning

from the Ode, the morning of the Day appointed for a General Thanksgiving, January 18, 1816, he gave to the former the date 1815; and it is possible that it was composed towards the close of that year. But it was originally published in 1816 as part of the Thanksgiving Ode; and, although (in conformity with the plan of adopting the Author's latest view of his own text) it is printed by itself,—as finally approved by him,—it is not placed in the year 1815, but in 1816. The chief reason for this is, that it is kindred in theme, structure, and tendency with the other Odes belonging to that year; and it seems better—when there is a doubt as to the date—to bring together those poems that are kindred in character. It does not follow, however, that part of the Thanksgiving Ode itself may not have been written in 1815. Wordsworth, writing to Southey in 1816, said:—"It is a poem composed, or supposed to be composed, on the morning of the thanksgiving." Those belonging to the year 1815 are, therefore, few in number.—Ed.

DEDICATION TO THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE

In trellised shed, with clustering roses gay, etc.

Although this Dedication was only written in April 1815, it has, for obvious reasons, been already published—along with the[Pg 43] poem itself—in its chronological place (1807) (see vol. iv. p. 100); but as I have seen a MS. copy of this Dedication, which differs considerably from the final text, and was probably the first draft of the poem, it may be printed here. In the MS. I refer to, it is called Epistle Dedicatory.—Ed.

EPISTLE DEDICATORY

FOOTNOTES:

[Pg 45]

ARTEGAL AND ELIDURE

(SEE THE CHRONICLE OF GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH AND MILTON'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND)

Composed 1815.—Published 1820

[This was written at Rydal Mount, as a token of affectionate respect for the memory of Milton. "I have determined," says he, in his preface to his History of England, "to bestow the telling over even of these reputed tales, be it for nothing else but in favour of our English Poets and Rhetoricians, who by their wit will know how to use them judiciously."—I.F.]

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."

The extract given in the Fenwick note is not from the "preface," but from the first book of Milton's History of England.—Ed.

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

TO B. R. HAYDON

Composed December 1815.—Published March 31, 1816.

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." The title "Esq." was appended to the name in the editions of 1820 to 1832.—Ed.

This sonnet was first published in The Examiner (March 31, 1816). It was composed in December 1815. On November 27, Haydon wrote to Wordsworth: "I have benefited, and have been supported in the troubles of life by your poetry. I will bear want, pain, misery, and blindness, but I will never yield one step I have gained on the road I am determined to travel over." (See his Correspondence and Table Talk, vol. ii. pp. 19, 20.) To this Wordsworth replied in the following letter which is explanatory of the above sonnet, and of the two sonnets that follow it.

"Rydal Mount, near Ambleside,
December 21st, 1815.

      *      *      *      *      *      *

"Now for the poems, which are sonnets: one composed the evening I received your letter; the other the next day; and the third the day following. I shall not transcribe them in the order in which they were written, but inversely.

"The last you will find was occasioned, I might say inspired, by your last letter, if there be any inspiration in it; the second records a feeling excited in me by the object it describes in the month of October last; and the first by a still earlier sensation, which the revolution of the year impressed me with last autumn."

(Then follow the three sonnets transcribed in the following order—

      *      *      *      *      *      *

"With high respect, I am, my dear sir, most faithfully yours.
"William Wordsworth."

(See the Autobiography of B. R. Haydon, vol. i. chap. xvi. p. 325.)

Haydon replied to Wordsworth, December 29 (see his Correspondence, vol. ii. pp. 20-23): "I must say that I have felt melancholy ever since receiving your sonnets, as if I was [Pg 63]elevated so exceedingly, with such a drunken humming in my brain, that my nature took refuge in quiet humbleness and gratitude to God."

It will be observed that in his letter of December 21, Wordsworth mentions the order in which these three sonnets were composed in three consecutive days. In his subsequent arrangement of the sonnets he altered this order, assigning "While not a leaf seems faded" to "September," and "How clear, how keen," to "November 1" (another instance of the inaccuracy of his dates). The detailed statement in this letter to Haydon must be trusted, however, in preference to the "afterthought" of the editions of 1820 and 1827. It may not be superfluous to note the dates of the first publication of this trilogy of sonnets, all of which Wordsworth sent to The Examiner.

NOVEMBER 1

Composed October 1815.—Published January 28, 1816

[Suggested on the banks of the Brathay by the sight of Langdale Pikes. It is delightful to remember these moments of far-distant days, which probably would have been forgotten if the impression had not been transferred to verse. The same observation applies to the next.[AK]—I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." In the editions of 1816 and 1820 the title was November 1, 1815.—Ed.

This sonnet originally appeared in The Examiner, January 28, 1816. It is rare indeed, if ever, that the Langdale Pikes retain the first snows of November till spring; although, as described in another poem, the cove on Helvellyn, in which Red Tarn lies—sheltered from the sun, and high up on the mountain—may

See Fidelity (vol. iii. p. 44), and the note to the sonnet addressed to Haydon, p. 62 of this vol.—Ed.

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

SEPTEMBER, 1815

Composed October 1815.—Published February 11, 1816

["For me, who under kindlier laws." This conclusion has more than once, to my great regret, excited painfully sad feelings in the hearts of young persons fond of poetry and poetic composition, by contrast of their feeble and declining health with that state of robust constitution which prompted me to rejoice in a season of frost and snow as more favourable to the Muses than summer itself.—I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.

[Pg 65]

This sonnet was first published in The Examiner, February 11, 1816. See the note to the sonnet addressed to Haydon, p. 62.—Ed.

"THE FAIREST, BRIGHTEST, HUES OF
ETHER FADE"

Published 1815

[Suggested at Hackett, which is on the craggy ridge that rises between the two Langdales, and looks towards Windermere. The Cottage of Hackett was often visited by us, and at the time when this Sonnet was written, and long after, was occupied by the husband and wife described in The Excursion, where it is mentioned that she was in the habit of walking in the front of the dwelling with a light to guide her husband home at night. The same cottage is alluded to in the Epistle to Sir George Beaumont, as that from which the female peasant hailed us on[Pg 66] our morning journey. The musician mentioned in the sonnet was the Rev. Samuel Tillbrook of Peter-house, Cambridge, who remodelled the Ivy Cottage at Rydal after he had purchased it.—I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.

The following reference to Mr. Tillbrook, referred to in the Fenwick note, is from the Diary, Correspondence, etc., of Henry Crabb Robinson, September 5, 1816:—"An evening was spent at Wordsworth's. Mr. Tillbrook, of Cambridge, formerly Thomas Clarkson's tutor, was there.... Mr. Walter sang some airs to Mr. Tillbrook's flute."—Ed.

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTE:

[Pg 67]

"WEAK IS THE WILL OF MAN, HIS JUDGMENT BLIND"

Published 1815

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.

FOOTNOTES:

"HAIL, TWILIGHT, SOVEREIGN OF ONE
PEACEFUL HOUR"

Published 1815

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.

VARIANTS:

"THE SHEPHERD, LOOKING EASTWARD,
SOFTLY SAID"

Published 1815

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.

[Pg 69]

"EVEN AS A DRAGON'S EYE THAT FEELS THE STRESS"

Published 1815

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.

The light of the "Taper" referred to shone from Allan Bank; the "black recess of mountains" described the heights of Silver Howe, and Easdale, round to Helm Crag; the "lake below," which "reflected it not" (because of the distance of Allan Bank from the side of the mere), was, of course, Grasmere. Wordsworth is looking at this "lamp suddenly glaring through sepulchral damp," however, from the eastern side of the lake, perhaps from the neighbourhood of "The Wishing Gate." I am indebted to the Rev. W. A. Harrison, Vicar of St. Anne's, Lambeth, for the following note to this sonnet:—

[Pg 70]

'In the Sonnet No. xxiv., 'Poems of the Imagination,' [i.e. 'Miscellaneous Sonnets'] these lines occur:—

"In line 3, all the later editions read 'Suddenly glaring.' But why 'suddenly'? There is nothing in the imagery of the poem which is at all suggestive of suddenness or unexpectedness in the appearance of the burning taper. The idea is alien from the spirit of the context. The dragon is drowsy and overborne with sleep. The taper is 'dreary' and 'motionless.' Everything is suggestive of 'sluggish stillness,' not of rapid, flashing movement.

"Yet I find the reading 'suddenly' in the one vol. ed. of 1828, which is said to be a reprint of the edition of 1827 in 5 vols.; in that of 1836-7; in that of 1840; and in all the later editions.

"In the edition of 1815, however, the reading given is one that is in strict keeping with the rest of the imagery, namely—

'Sullenly glaring.'

"Is it likely that 'sullenly' was deliberately altered by Wordsworth to 'suddenly,' or is 'suddenly' a misprint that has been perpetuated through successive editions?

"The sonnet in question is not dated, but it was probably written after 1807 and before 1815.

"Now, in a well-known and often-quoted passage in Wordsworth's letter in answer to Mathetes (Friend, vol. iii. 35, etc.), he speaks of the 'sullen light' which survives the extinguished flame of the candle that the schoolboy has blown out. 'It continues,' he says, 'to shine with an endurance which in its apparent weakness is a mystery; it protracts its existence so long ... that the observer who had lain down in his bed so easy-minded, becomes sad and melancholy,' etc. etc. etc.

"In the sonnet the same ideas occur, only the 'melancholy' is here predicated figuratively of the 'light' itself:—

"This paper in The Friend was written in 1810; and it is possible that the sonnet was written at about the same time.—W. A. Harrison."—Ed.

VARIANTS:

"MARK THE CONCENTRED HAZELS THAT ENCLOSE"

Published 1815

[Suggested in the wild hazel wood at the foot of Helm-crag, where the stone still lies, with others of like form and character, though much of the wood that veiled it from the glare of day has been felled. This beautiful ground was lately purchased by our friend Mrs. Fletcher; the ancient owners, most respected persons, being obliged to part with it in consequence of the imprudence of a son. It is gratifying to mention that, instead of murmuring and repining at this change of fortune, they offered their services to Mrs. Fletcher, the husband as an outdoor labourer, and the wife as a domestic servant. I have witnessed the pride and pleasure with which the man worked at improvements of the ground round the house. Indeed he expressed those feelings to me himself, and the countenance and manner of his wife always denoted feelings of the same character. I believe a similar disposition to contentment under change of fortune is common among the class to which these good people belong. Yet, in proof that to part with their patrimony is most painful to them, I may refer to those stanzas entitled Repentance, no inconsiderable part of which was taken verbatim from the language of the speaker herself.—I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.

This "old grey Stone" is a prominent feature in the Lancrigg Terrace-Walk. It is still moss-grown, and embowered by the hazel underwood. Not far from it, the path opens to the spot where the most of The Prelude was composed; first hummed aloud—as the poet walked to and fro along the terrace—and then dictated to his wife or sister. See Lady Richardson's account of this, in her article in Sharpe's London Magazine, in 1851, and in the Autobiography of Mrs. Fletcher (her mother), p. 244; also her contributions to the Memoirs of Wordsworth, vol. ii. p. 438, etc.—Ed.

"SURPRISED BY JOY—IMPATIENT AS THE WIND"

Published 1815

[This was in fact suggested by my daughter Catherine long after her death.[AN]—I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.

Compare the poem entitled Characteristics of a Child three years old (vol. iv. p. 252), written in 1811, and which referred, like this one, to the poet's daughter Catherine, who died the year after. Compare also The Excursion, book iii. ll. 636-649, and the sonnet beginning, "Desponding Father! mark this altered bough," 1835.—Ed.

[Pg 74]

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

1816

Most of the poems belonging to 1816 were suggested by the stirring political events of that year on the Continent of Europe. Four odes, and a number of sonnets,—referring to the Fall of Napoleon, the French army in Russia, the battle of Waterloo, etc.,—a translation of part of Virgil's Æneid, and one or two smaller fragments, make up the series. Wordsworth had not been so much inspired by the political events of his time, since the years 1809 and 1810—when he wrote the Tyrolese Sonnets, and others, "Dedicated to Liberty," etc.—but, both before and during the year 1816, he spent some time in preparing his eldest son for the University. He read the Latin poets with him; and very probably it was this that led him to translate into English verse, the three first books of the Æneid, which he did at this time. Some fragments of his Translations will be found in the Appendix to vol. viii.—Ed.

ODE
The Morning of the Day appointed for a General Thanksgiving. January 18, 1816

Composed 1816.—Published 1816.

[The first stanza of this Ode was composed almost extempore, in front of Rydal Mount, before church-time, and on such a morning and precisely with such objects before my eyes as are here described. The view taken of Napoleon's character and proceedings is little in accordance with that taken by some historians and critical philosophers. I am glad and proud of the difference, and trust that this series of poems, infinitely below the subject as they are, will survive to counteract, in[Pg 75] unsophisticated minds, the pernicious and degrading tendency of those views and doctrines that lead to the idolatry of power, as power, and, in that false splendour, to lose sight of its real nature and constitution as it often acts for the gratification of its possessor without reference to a beneficial end—an infirmity that has characterised men of all ages, classes, and employments, since Nimrod became a mighty hunter before the Lord.—I. F.]

"It is not to bespeak favour or indulgence, but to guard against misapprehension, that the author presumes to state that the present publication owes its existence to a patriotism, anxious to exert itself in commemorating that course of action, by which Great Britain has, for some time past, distinguished herself above all other countries.

"Wholly unworthy of touching upon so momentous a subject would that Poet be, before whose eyes the present distresses under which this kingdom labours, could interpose a veil sufficiently thick to hide, or even to obscure, the splendour of this great moral triumph. If the author has given way to exultation, unchecked by these distresses, it might be sufficient to protect him from a charge of insensibility, should he state his own belief that these sufferings will be transitory. On the wisdom of a very large majority of the British nation, rested that generosity which poured out the treasures of this country for the deliverance of Europe: and in the same national wisdom, presiding in time of peace over an energy not inferior to that which has been displayed in war, they confide, who encourage a firm hope, that the cup of our wealth will be gradually replenished. There will, doubtless, be no few ready to indulge in regrets and repinings; and to feed a morbid satisfaction, by aggravating these burthens in imagination, in order that calamity so confidently prophesied, as it has not taken the shape which their sagacity allotted to it, may appear as grievous as possible under another. But the body of the nation will not quarrel with the gain, because it might have been purchased at a less price: and acknowledging in these sufferings, which they feel to have been in a great degree unavoidable, a consecration of their noble efforts, they will vigorously apply themselves to remedy the evil.

"Nor is it at the expense of rational patriotism, or in disregard of sound philosophy, that the author hath given vent to feelings tending to encourage a martial spirit in the bosoms of his countrymen, at a time when there is a general outcry [Pg 76]against the prevalence of these dispositions. The British army, both by its skill and valour in the field, and by the discipline which has rendered it much less formidable than the armies of other powers, to the inhabitants of the several countries where its operations were carried on, has performed services for humanity too important and too obvious to allow any one to recommend, that the language of gratitude and admiration be suppressed, or restrained (whatever be the temper of the public mind), through a scrupulous dread, lest the tribute due to the past, should prove an injurious incentive for the future. Every man, deserving the name of Briton, adds his voice to the chorus which extols the exploits of his countrymen, with a consciousness, at times overpowering the effort, that they transcend all praise. But this particular sentiment, thus irresistibly excited, is not sufficient. The nation would err grievously, if she suffered the abuse which other states have made of military power, to prevent her from perceiving that no people ever was, or can be, independent, free, or secure, much less great, in any sane application of the word, without martial propensities, and an assiduous cultivation of military virtues[AO]. Nor let it be overlooked, that the benefits derivable from these sources, are placed within the reach of Great Britain, under conditions peculiarly favourable. The same insular position which, by rendering territorial incorporation impossible, utterly precludes the desire of conquest under the most seductive shape it can assume, enables her to rely, for her defence against foreign foes, chiefly upon a species of armed force from which her own liberties have nothing to fear. Such are the blessed privileges of her situation; and, by permitting, they invite her to give way to the courageous instincts of human nature, and to strengthen and to refine them by culture.

"But some have more than insinuated, that a design exists to subvert the civil character of the English people by unconstitutional applications and unnecessary increase of military power. The advisers and abettors of such a design, were it possible that it should exist, would be guilty of the most heinous crime, which, upon this planet, can be committed. The author, trusting that this apprehension arises from the delusive influences of an honourable jealousy, hopes that the martial qualities, which he venerates, will be fostered by adhering to those good old usages which experience has sanctioned; and by availing ourselves of new means of indisputable promise; particularly by [Pg 77]applying, in its utmost possible extent, that system of tuition, of which the master-spring is a habit of gradually enlightened subordination; by imparting knowledge, civil, moral, and religious, in such measure that the mind, among all classes of the community, may love, admire, and be prepared and accomplished to defend that country, under whose protection its faculties have been unfolded, and its riches acquired; by just dealing towards all orders of the state, so that no members of it being trampled upon, courage may everywhere continue to rest immoveably upon its ancient English foundation, personal self-respect; by adequate rewards, and permanent honours, conferred upon the deserving; by encouraging athletic exercises and manly sports among the peasantry of the country; and by especial care to provide and support sufficient institutions, in which, during a time of peace, a reasonable proportion of the youth of the country may be instructed in military science.

"Bent upon instant savings, a member of the House of Commons lately recommended that the Military College should be suppressed as an unnecessary expense; for, said he, 'our best officers have been formed in the field.' More unwise advice has rarely been given! Admirable officers, indeed, have been formed in the field, but at how deplorable an expense of the lives of their surrounding brethren in arms, a history of the military operations in Spain, and particularly of the sieges, composed with thorough knowledge, and published without reserve, would irresistibly demonstrate.[AP]

"The author has only to add that he should feel little satisfaction in giving to the world these limited attempts to celebrate the virtues of his country, if he did not encourage a hope that a subject, which it has fallen within his province to treat only in the mass, will by other poets be illustrated in that detail which its importance calls for, and which will allow opportunities to give the merited applause to persons as well as to things."W. Wordsworth.
"Rydal Mount, March 18, 1816."[AQ]

[Pg 78]

This Ode was originally published—along with the three that follow it, and some sonnets—in 1816, under the title, Thanksgiving Ode, January 18, 1816, with other short pieces, chiefly referring to recent public events, and with the prefatory announcement: "This Publication may be considered as a sequel to the Author's 'Sonnets dedicated to Liberty.'" To the whole there was prefixed an "Advertisement," beginning as at p. 75, "It is not," etc., and continuing to "W. Wordsworth," p. 77.—Ed.

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

Replying to some criticism on this Ode by Southey, Wordsworth wrote to his friend as follows:—"I am much of your mind in respect to my Ode. Had it been a hymn, uttering the sentiments of a multitude, a stanza would have been indispensable. But though I have called it a 'Thanksgiving Ode,' strictly speaking it is not so, but a poem, composed, or supposed to be composed, on the morning of the thanksgiving, uttering the sentiments of an individual upon that occasion. It is a dramatised ejaculation; and this, if anything can, must excuse the irregular frame of the metre. In respect to a stanza for a grand subject designed to be treated comprehensively, there are great objections. If the stanza be short, it will scarcely allow of fervour and importunity, unless so short, as that the sense is run perpetually from one stanza to another, as in Horace's[Pg 88] Alcaics; and if it be long, it will be as apt to generate diffuseness as to check it. Of this we have innumerable instances in Spenser and the Italian poets. The sense required cannot be included in one given stanza, so that another whole stanza is added, not infrequently, for the sake of matter which would naturally include itself in a very few lines.

"If Gray's plan be adopted, there is not time to become acquainted with the arrangement, and to recognise with pleasure the recurrence of the movement.

"Be so good as let me know where you found most difficulty in following me. The passage which I most suspect of being misunderstood is

and the passage where I doubt most about the reasonableness of expecting that the reader should follow me in the luxuriance of the imagery and the language, is the one that describes, under so many metaphors, the spreading of the news of the Waterloo victory over the globe."

The last reference in this letter is to the lines in that part of the Ode, which follows—

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

ODE

Composed 1816.—Published 1816

The first and the fourth stanzas of this Ode formed stanzas ix. and xii. of the Thanksgiving Ode from 1816 to 1842. In 1845 it was printed as number XLV. of the "Poems of the Imagination."—Ed.

I

II

III

IV

V

In an early MS. copy of this Ode, it concludes thus, after the line "And that we need no further victory!"

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

[Pg 95]

INVOCATION TO THE EARTH[BI]

FEBRUARY, 1816

Composed 1816.—Published 1816

[Composed immediately after the Thanksgiving Ode, to which it may be considered as a second part.—I. F.]

One of the "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces."—Ed.

I

[Pg 96]

II

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

ODE[BL]

Composed January 1816.—Published 1816

[Pg 97]

This was one of the "Poems of the Imagination," in 1820. In 1827 it was placed among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.

I

II

III

IV

V

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

ODE

Composed 1816.—Published 1816

Included in 1820 among the "Poems of the Imagination," afterwards placed among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.

I

II

III

IV

V

The date of the composition of this Ode is uncertain. Wordsworth himself gives no clue: but it seems to refer to the rise of the French Republic, with its illusive promises of Liberty: the freedom of the many being sacrificed to the despotism of one. The Republic passed "through many a change of form." It became both tyrannous and aggressive. The "Principalities" of Europe "melted" before it. It stood forth "an armèd creature," and "a terror to the Earth." It in turn put down "Justice," "Faith," and "Hope" throughout Europe; and the writer of the Ode says,

How long shall vengeance sleep? Ye patient Heavens, how long?

The allusions in stanza iv. suggest that this Ode was written before Waterloo, and the final overthrow of the power of Napoleon, but it is difficult, if not impossible, to determine the point with exactness from internal evidence.

The reference in the last stanza may be to the legend of Amphion moving stones, and building up the walls of Thebes, by the sound of his lyre; the stones advancing to their places, and being fitted together, as he played his instrument. Compare Tennyson's Amphion.—Ed.

VARIANTS:

THE FRENCH ARMY IN RUSSIA, 1812-13[160]

Composed 1816.—Published 1816

This was first published in 1816 in the "Miscellaneous Pieces, referring chiefly to recent public Events," in the volume entitled Thanksgiving Ode, January 18, 1816, with other short pieces, etc. In 1820 it was placed among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty, Part II."—Ed.

The French "retreat from Moscow was perhaps the most disastrous on record since the days of Xerxes.... On the night of 6th November, the temperature suddenly fell to that of the most rigorous winter. In that dreadful night thousands of men perished, and nearly all the horses, which compelled the abandonment of the greater part of the convoys. From this point the road began to be strewn with corpses, presenting the aspect of one continuous battlefield.... At Smolensk the cold was at 20 degrees of Réaumur." (Dyer's History of Modern Europe, vol. iv. pp. 518, 519.)—Ed.

VARIANTS:

ON THE SAME OCCASION[162]

Composed 1816.—Published 1816

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.

VARIANTS:

[Pg 110]

SIEGE OF VIENNA RAISED BY JOHN
SOBIESKI[BV]

February, 1816

Composed February 4, 1816.—Published 1816

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

[Pg 111]

OCCASIONED BY THE BATTLE
OF WATERLOO[166]

(The last six lines intended for an Inscription.)

February, 1816

Composed February 4, 1816.—Published 1816

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.

It need hardly be said that the intention of using the six last lines as an "Inscription" was never carried into effect. The infelicity of the second last line is fatal to its use on any "monument." The punctuation of the Sonnet as it appeared in The Champion, January 2, 1814, differs slightly from the above.—Ed.

VARIANTS:

OCCASIONED BY THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO[167]

February, 1816

Composed February 4, 1816.—Published 1816

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

"EMPERORS AND KINGS, HOW OFT HAVE TEMPLES RUNG"

Composed 1816.—Published 1827

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.

VARIANTS:

FOOTNOTES:

FEELINGS OF A FRENCH ROYALIST,[172]

On the Disinterment of the Remains of The Duke D'Enghien

Composed 1816.—Published 1816.

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.

[Pg 115]

The Duc d'Enghien, grandson of the Prince de Condé, and only son of the Duc de Bourbon, born at Chantilly in 1772, commanded the corps of Emigrés gathered on the Rhine by his grandfather. After the peace of Luneville, he retired to Ettenheim, near Strasburg, in German territory. There he married the Princess Charlotte of Rohan-Rochefort, and lived peacefully as a private citizen. He was, though wholly innocent, suspected by Napoleon of complicity in the plot of Pichegru, Cadoudal (one of the Chouans), Moreau, and others, to overthrow him as first Consul, and to restore the Bourbon dynasty. "The Duke was residing at Ettenheim, in the neutral territory of Baden, when Bonaparte, in violation of international law and the rights of the German Empire, caused him to be seized on the night of 15th March by a party of French gens d'armes, and to be carried to the castle of Vincennes, where, after a sort of mock trial, he was shot in the fosse of the fortress, March 21st" (1804).—Dyer's Modern Europe (vol. iv. p. 378). The whole of the proceedings against the Duc d'Enghien were illegal (as was confessed by the presiding judge), and his execution was one of the blackest stains on the character of Napoleon. After the Restoration, in 1814, his remains were disinterred by order of Louis XVIII., and buried in the chapel of the castle at Vincennes, where the restored king erected a monument to his memory. The "pit of vilest mould" mentioned in the sonnet, is, of course, the moat of the castle, and the phrase "to lodge among ancestral kings," refers to Vincennes having been a royal residence, where many princes died and were buried, e.g. Queen Jeanne (wife of Philippe le Bel), Louis le Hutin, and Charles le Bel. Vincennes is close to Paris, the fortress being only about five miles south-east of the Louvre. The chapel, which has a fine Gothic front, was begun in 1248, and was finished in 1552. The monument to the Duc d'Enghien is in the old Sacristy. It consists of four figures in marble, representing the Duke, supported by Religion and bewailed by France, while Vengeance waits behind. It was executed by Deseine.—Ed.

VARIANTS:

[Pg 116]

DION

(See Plutarch)

Composed 1816.—Published 1820

[This poem was first introduced by a stanza that I have since transferred to the Notes, for reasons there given,[BZ] and I cannot comply with the request expressed by some of my friends that the rejected stanza should be restored. I hope[Pg 117] they will be content if it be, hereafter, immediately attached to the poem, instead of its being degraded to a place in the Notes.—I. F.]

FOOTNOTE:

From 1820 to 1843 Dion was classed among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection." In the edition of 1845 it was placed next to Laodamia among the "Poems of the Imagination."—Ed.

VARIANT:

I