Delphi Complete Works of William Wordsworth

by William Wordsworth

  Though with such awful proof before their eyes

  That he, who would sow death, reaps death, or worse,

  And can reap nothing better—child-like longed

  To imitate, not wise enough to avoid;

  Or left (by mere timidity betrayed)70

  The plain straight road, for one no better chosen

  Than if their wish had been to undermine

  Justice, and make an end of Liberty.

  But from these bitter truths I must return

  To my own history. It hath been told

  That I was led to take an eager part

  In arguments of civil polity,

  Abruptly, and indeed before my time:

  I had approached, like other youths, the shield

  Of human nature from the golden side, 80

  And would have fought, even to the death, to attest

  The quality of the metal which I saw.

  What there is best in individual man,

  Of wise in passion, and sublime in power,

  Benevolent in small societies,

  And great in large ones, I had oft revolved,

  Felt deeply, but not thoroughly understood

  By reason: nay, far from it; they were yet,

  As cause was given me afterwards to learn,

  Not proof against the injuries of the day; 90

  Lodged only at the sanctuary’s door,

  Not safe within its bosom. Thus prepared,

  And with such general insight into evil,

  And of the bounds which sever it from good,

  As books and common intercourse with life

  Must needs have given—to the inexperienced mind,

  When the world travels in a beaten road,

  Guide faithful as is needed—I began

  To meditate with ardour on the rule

  And management of nations; what it is 100

  And ought to be; and strove to learn how far

  Their power or weakness, wealth or poverty,

  Their happiness or misery, depends

  Upon their laws, and fashion of the State.

  O pleasant exercise of hope and joy!

  For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood

  Upon our side, us who were strong in love!

  Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,

  But to be young was very Heaven! O times,

  In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways 110

  Of custom, law, and statute, took at once

  The attraction of a country in romance!

  When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights

  When most intent on making of herself

  A prime enchantress—to assist the work,

  Which then was going forward in her name!

  Not favoured spots alone, but the whole Earth,

  The beauty wore of promise—that which sets

  (As at some moments might not be unfelt

  Among the bowers of Paradise itself) 120

  The budding rose above the rose full blown.

  What temper at the prospect did not wake

  To happiness unthought of? The inert

  Were roused, and lively natures rapt away!

  They who had fed their childhood upon dreams,

  The play-fellows of fancy, who had made

  All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength

  Their ministers,—who in lordly wise had stirred

  Among the grandest objects of the sense,

  And dealt with whatsoever they found there 130

  As if they had within some lurking right

  To wield it;—they, too, who of gentle mood

  Had watched all gentle motions, and to these

  Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more mild,

  And in the region of their peaceful selves;—

  Now was it that ‘both’ found, the meek and lofty

  Did both find, helpers to their hearts’ desire,

  And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish,—

  Were called upon to exercise their skill,

  Not in Utopia,—subterranean fields,— 140

  Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where!

  But in the very world, which is the world

  Of all of us,—the place where, in the end,

  We find our happiness, or not at all!

  Why should I not confess that Earth was then

  To me, what an inheritance, new-fallen,

  Seems, when the first time visited, to one

  Who thither comes to find in it his home?

  He walks about and looks upon the spot

  With cordial transport, moulds it and remoulds, 150

  And is half-pleased with things that are amiss,

  ‘Twill be such joy to see them disappear.

  An active partisan, I thus convoked

  From every object pleasant circumstance

  To suit my ends; I moved among mankind

  With genial feelings still predominant;

  When erring, erring on the better part,

  And in the kinder spirit; placable,

  Indulgent, as not uninformed that men

  See as they have been taught—Antiquity 160

  Gives rights to error; and aware, no less

  That throwing off oppression must be work

  As well of License as of Liberty;

  And above all—for this was more than all—

  Not caring if the wind did now and then

  Blow keen upon an eminence that gave

  Prospect so large into futurity;

  In brief, a child of Nature, as at first,

  Diffusing only those affections wider

  That from the cradle had grown up with me, 170

  And losing, in no other way than light

  Is lost in light, the weak in the more strong.

  In the main outline, such it might be said

  Was my condition, till with open war

  Britain opposed the liberties of France.

  This threw me first out of the pale of love;

  Soured and corrupted, upwards to the source,

  My sentiments; was not, as hitherto,

  A swallowing up of lesser things in great,

  But change of them into their contraries; 180

  And thus a way was opened for mistakes

  And false conclusions, in degree as gross,

  In kind more dangerous. What had been a pride,

  Was now a shame; my likings and my loves

  Ran in new channels, leaving old ones dry;

  And hence a blow that, in maturer age,

  Would but have touched the judgment, struck more deep

  Into sensations near the heart: meantime,

  As from the first, wild theories were afloat,

  To whose pretensions, sedulously urged, 190

  I had but lent a careless ear, assured

  That time was ready to set all things right,

  And that the multitude, so long oppressed,

  Would be oppressed no more.

  But when events

  Brought less encouragement, and unto these

  The immediate proof of principles no more

  Could be entrusted, while the events themselves,

  Worn out in greatness, stripped of novelty,

  Less occupied the mind, and sentiments

  Could through my understanding’s natural growth 200

  No longer keep their ground, by faith maintained

  Of inward consciousness, and hope that laid

  Her hand upon her object—evidence

  Safer, of universal application, such

  As could not be impeached, was sought elsewhere.

  But now, become oppressors in their turn,

  Frenchmen had changed a war of self-defence

  For one of conquest, losing sight of all

  Which they had struggled for: up mounted now,

  Openly in the eye of earth and heaven, 210

  The scale of li
berty. I read her doom,

  With anger vexed, with disappointment sore,

  But not dismayed, nor taking to the shame

  Of a false prophet. While resentment rose

  Striving to hide, what nought could heal, the wounds

  Of mortified presumption, I adhered

  More firmly to old tenets, and, to prove

  Their temper, strained them more; and thus, in heat

  Of contest, did opinions every day

  Grow into consequence, till round my mind 220

  They clung, as if they were its life, nay more,

  The very being of the immortal soul.

  This was the time, when, all things tending fast

  To depravation, speculative schemes—

  That promised to abstract the hopes of Man

  Out of his feelings, to be fixed thenceforth

  For ever in a purer element—

  Found ready welcome. Tempting region ‘that’

  For Zeal to enter and refresh herself,

  Where passions had the privilege to work, 230

  And never hear the sound of their own names.

  But, speaking more in charity, the dream

  Flattered the young, pleased with extremes, nor least

  With that which makes our Reason’s naked self

  The object of its fervour. What delight!

  How glorious! in self-knowledge and self-rule,

  To look through all the frailties of the world,

  And, with a resolute mastery shaking off

  Infirmities of nature, time, and place,

  Build social upon personal Liberty, 240

  Which, to the blind restraints of general laws,

  Superior, magisterially adopts

  One guide, the light of circumstances, flashed

  Upon an independent intellect.

  Thus expectation rose again; thus hope,

  From her first ground expelled, grew proud once more.

  Oft, as my thoughts were turned to human kind,

  I scorned indifference; but, inflamed with thirst

  Of a secure intelligence, and sick

  Of other longing, I pursued what seemed 250

  A more exalted nature; wished that Man

  Should start out of his earthy, worm-like state,

  And spread abroad the wings of Liberty,

  Lord of himself, in undisturbed delight—

  A noble aspiration! ‘yet’ I feel

  (Sustained by worthier as by wiser thoughts)

  The aspiration, nor shall ever cease

  To feel it;—but return we to our course.

  Enough, ‘tis true—could such a plea excuse

  Those aberrations—had the clamorous friends 260

  Of ancient Institutions said and done

  To bring disgrace upon their very names;

  Disgrace, of which, custom and written law,

  And sundry moral sentiments as props

  Or emanations of those institutes,

  Too justly bore a part. A veil had been

  Uplifted; why deceive ourselves? in sooth,

  ‘Twas even so; and sorrow for the man

  Who either had not eyes wherewith to see,

  Or, seeing, had forgotten! A strong shock 270

  Was given to old opinions; all men’s minds

  Had felt its power, and mine was both let loose,

  Let loose and goaded. After what hath been

  Already said of patriotic love,

  Suffice it here to add, that, somewhat stern

  In temperament, withal a happy man,

  And therefore bold to look on painful things,

  Free likewise of the world, and thence more bold,

  I summoned my best skill, and toiled, intent

  To anatomise the frame of social life; 280

  Yea, the whole body of society

  Searched to its heart. Share with me, Friend! the wish

  That some dramatic tale, endued with shapes

  Livelier, and flinging out less guarded words

  Than suit the work we fashion, might set forth

  What then I learned, or think I learned, of truth,

  And the errors into which I fell, betrayed

  By present objects, and by reasonings false

  From their beginnings, inasmuch as drawn

  Out of a heart that had been turned aside 290

  From Nature’s way by outward accidents,

  And which was thus confounded, more and more

  Misguided, and misguiding. So I fared,

  Dragging all precepts, judgments, maxims, creeds,

  Like culprits to the bar; calling the mind,

  Suspiciously, to establish in plain day

  Her titles and her honours; now believing,

  Now disbelieving; endlessly perplexed

  With impulse, motive, right and wrong, the ground

  Of obligation, what the rule and whence 300

  The sanction; till, demanding formal ‘proof’,

  And seeking it in every thing, I lost

  All feeling of conviction, and, in fine,

  Sick, wearied out with contrarieties,

  Yielded up moral questions in despair.

  This was the crisis of that strong disease,

  This the soul’s last and lowest ebb; I drooped,

  Deeming our blessed reason of least use

  Where wanted most: “The lordly attributes

  Of will and choice,” I bitterly exclaimed 310

  “What are they but a mockery of a Being

  Who hath in no concerns of his a test

  Of good and evil; knows not what to fear

  Or hope for, what to covet or to shun;

  And who, if those could be discerned, would yet

  Be little profited, would see, and ask

  Where is the obligation to enforce?

  And, to acknowledged law rebellious, still,

  As selfish passion urged, would act amiss;

  The dupe of folly, or the slave of crime.” 320

  Depressed, bewildered thus, I did not walk

  With scoffers, seeking light and gay revenge

  From indiscriminate laughter, nor sate down

  In reconcilement with an utter waste

  Of intellect; such sloth I could not brook,

  (Too well I loved, in that my spring of life,

  Pains-taking thoughts, and truth, their dear reward)

  But turned to abstract science, and there sought

  Work for the reasoning faculty enthroned

  Where the disturbances of space and time— 330

  Whether in matters various, properties

  Inherent, or from human will and power

  Derived—find no admission. Then it was—

  Thanks to the bounteous Giver of all good!—

  That the beloved Sister in whose sight

  Those days were passed, now speaking in a voice

  Of sudden admonition—like a brook

  That did but ‘cross’ a lonely road, and now

  Is seen, heard, felt, and caught at every turn,

  Companion never lost through many a league— 340

  Maintained for me a saving intercourse

  With my true self; for, though bedimmed and changed

  Much, as it seemed, I was no further changed

  Than as a clouded and a waning moon:

  She whispered still that brightness would return;

  She, in the midst of all, preserved me still

  A Poet, made me seek beneath that name,

  And that alone, my office upon earth;

  And, lastly, as hereafter will be shown,

  If willing audience fail not, Nature’s self, 350

  By all varieties of human love

  Assisted, led me back through opening day

  To those sweet counsels between head and heart

  Whence grew that genuine knowledge, fraught with peace,

  Which, through the later sinkings of this cause
,

  Hath still upheld me, and upholds me now

  In the catastrophe (for so they dream,

  And nothing less), when, finally to close

  And seal up all the gains of France, a Pope

  Is summoned in, to crown an Emperor— 360

  This last opprobrium, when we see a people,

  That once looked up in faith, as if to Heaven

  For manna, take a lesson from the dog

  Returning to his vomit; when the sun

  That rose in splendour, was alive, and moved

  In exultation with a living pomp

  Of clouds—his glory’s natural retinue—

  Hath dropped all functions by the gods bestowed,

  And, turned into a gewgaw, a machine,

  Sets like an Opera phantom.

  Thus, O Friend! 370

  Through times of honour and through times of shame

  Descending, have I faithfully retraced

  The perturbations of a youthful mind

  Under a long-lived storm of great events—

  A story destined for thy ear, who now,

  Among the fallen of nations, dost abide

  Where Etna, over hill and valley, casts

  His shadow stretching towards Syracuse,

  The city of Timoleon! Righteous Heaven!

  How are the mighty prostrated! They first, 380

  They first of all that breathe should have awaked

  When the great voice was heard from out the tombs

  Of ancient heroes. If I suffered grief

  For ill-requited France, by many deemed

  A trifler only in her proudest day;

  Have been distressed to think of what she once

  Promised, now is; a far more sober cause

  Thine eyes must see of sorrow in a land,

  To the reanimating influence lost

  Of memory, to virtue lost and hope, 390

  Though with the wreck of loftier years bestrewn.

  But indignation works where hope is not,

  And thou, O Friend! wilt be refreshed. There is

  One great society alone on earth:

  The noble Living and the noble Dead.

  Thine be such converse strong and sanative,

  A ladder for thy spirit to reascend

  To health and joy and pure contentedness;

  To me the grief confined, that thou art gone

  From this last spot of earth, where Freedom now 400

  Stands single in her only sanctuary;

  A lonely wanderer, art gone, by pain

  Compelled and sickness, at this latter day,

  This sorrowful reverse for all mankind.

  I feel for thee, must utter what I feel:

  The sympathies erewhile in part discharged,

  Gather afresh, and will have vent again:

  My own delights do scarcely seem to me

  My own delights; the lordly Alps themselves,

  Those rosy peaks, from which the Morning looks 410