Selections from Wordsworth and Tennyson Part 4

Farewell, farewell the heart that lives alone, Housed in a dream, at distance from the Kind!

Such happiness, wherever it be known, 55 Is to be pitied: for 'tis surely blind.

But welcome fort.i.tude, and patient cheer, And frequent sights of what is to be borne!

Such sights, or worse, as are before me here.-- Not without hope we suffer and we mourn. 60

2. FOUR SUMMER WEEKS. In 1794 Wordsworth spent part of a summer vacation at the house of his cousin, Mr. Barker, at Rampside, a village near Peele Castle.

6-7. Sh.e.l.ley has twice imitated these lines. Compare:--

Within the surface of Time's fleeting river Its wrinkled Image lies, as then it lay Immovably unquiet, and for ever It trembles, but it cannot pa.s.s away.

_Ode to Liberty_, vi.

also the following:

Within the surface of the fleeting river The wrinkled image of the city lay, Immovably unquiet, and for ever It trembles, but it never fades away.

_Evening_.

9-10. The calm was so complete that it did not seem a transient mood of the sea, a pa.s.sing sleep.

13-16. Compare with the above original reading of 1807 (restored after 1827) the lines which Wordsworth subst.i.tuted in 1820 and 1827.

Ah! THEN, if mine had been the Painter's hand, To express what then I saw; and add a gleam, The l.u.s.tre, known to neither sea nor land, But borrowed from the youthful Poet's dream.

35-36. A POWER IS GONE--SOUL. The reference is to the death at sea of his brother Captain John Wordsworth. The poet can no longer see things wholly idealized. His brother's death has revealed to him, however, the enn.o.bling virtue of grief. Thus a personal loss is converted into human gain. Note especially in this connection l. 35 and ll. 53-60.

54. FROM THE KIND. From our fellow-beings.

"IT IS NOT TO BE THOUGHT OF"

It is not to be thought of that the Flood Of British freedom, which to the open sea Of the world's praise from dark antiquity Hath flowed, 'with pomp of waters, unwithstood,'

Roused though it be full often to a mood 5 Which spurns the check of salutary bands, That this most famous Stream in bogs and sands Should perish, and to evil and to good Be lost forever. In our halls is hung Armoury of the invincible Knights of old: 10 We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.--In everything we are sprung Of Earth's first blood, have t.i.tles manifold.

4. 'WITH POMP OF WATERS, UNWITHSTOOD.' This is quoted from Daniel's _Civil War_, Bk. ii, stanza 7.

WRITTEN IN LONDON, SEPTEMBER, 1802

O Friend! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, oppressed, To think that now our life is only dressed For show; mean handiwork of craftsman, cook, Or groom!--We must run glittering like a brook 5 In the open suns.h.i.+ne, or we are unblessed: The wealthiest man among us is the best: No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: 10 Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.

LONDON, 1802

Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters; altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower 5 Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.

Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart: Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: 10 Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful G.o.dliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.

"DARK AND MORE DARK THE SHADES OF EVENING FELL"

Dark and more dark the shades of evening fell; The wished-for point was reached--but at an hour When little could be gained from that rich dower Of Prospect, whereof many thousands tell.

Yet did the glowing west with marvellous power 5 Salute us; there stood Indian citadel, Temple of Greece, and minster with its tower Substantially expressed--a place for bell Or clock to toll from! Many a tempting isle, With groves that never were imagined, lay 10 'Mid seas how steadfast! objects all for the eye Of silent rapture, but we felt the while We should forget them; they are of the sky And from our earthly memory fade away.

"SURPRISED BY JOY--IMPATIENT AS THE WIND"

Surprised by joy--impatient as the wind I turned to share the transport--Oh! with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find?

Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind-- 5 But how could I forget thee? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss?--That thought's return Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, 10 Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; That neither present time, nor years unborn Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

"HAIL, TWILIGHT, SOVEREIGN OF ONE PEACEFUL HOUR"

Hail, Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour!

Not dull art Thou as undiscerning Night; But studious only to remove from sight Day's mutable distinctions.--Ancient Power!

Thus did the waters gleam, the mountains lower, 5 To the rude Briton, when, in wolf-skin vest Here roving wild, he laid him down to rest On the bare rock, or through a leafy bower Looked ere his eyes were closed. By him was seen The self-same Vision which we now behold, 10 At thy meek bidding, shadowy Power! brought forth These mighty barriers, and the gulf between; The flood, the stars,--a spectacle as old As the beginning of the heavens and earth!

"I THOUGHT OF THEE, MY PARTNER AND MY GUIDE"

I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide, As being past away.--Vain sympathies!

For, backward, Duddon, as I cast my eyes, I see what was, and is, and will abide; Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide; 5 The Form remains, the Function never dies, While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise, We Men, who in our morn of youth defied The elements, must vanish;--be it so!

Enough, if something from our hands have power 10 To live, and act, and serve the future hour; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.

"SUCH AGE, HOW BEAUTIFUL!"

Such age, how beautiful! O Lady bright, Whose mortal lineaments seem all refined By favouring Nature and a saintly Mind To something purer and more exquisite Than flesh and blood; whene'er thou meet'est my sight, 5 When I behold thy blanched unwithered cheek, Thy temples fringed with locks of gleaming white, And head that droops because the soul is meek, Thee with the welcome Snowdrop I compare; That child of winter, prompting thoughts that climb 10 From desolation toward the genial prime; Or with the Moon conquering earth's misty air, And filling more and more with crystal light As pensive Evening deepens into night.