Delphi Complete Works of William Wordsworth

by William Wordsworth

  That, in an easy temper lulled asleep,

  Is still with Innocence its own reward,

  This was not wanting. Carelessly I roamed

  As through a wide museum from whose stores

  A casual rarity is singled out

  And has its brief perusal, then gives way

  To others, all supplanted in their turn; 620

  Till ‘mid this crowded neighbourhood of things

  That are by nature most unneighbourly,

  The head turns round and cannot right itself;

  And though an aching and a barren sense

  Of gay confusion still be uppermost,

  With few wise longings and but little love,

  Yet to the memory something cleaves at last,

  Whence profit may be drawn in times to come.

  Thus in submissive idleness, my Friend!

  The labouring time of autumn, winter, spring, 630

  Eight months! rolled pleasingly away; the ninth

  Came and returned me to my native hills.

  THE PRELUDE BOOK FOURTH

  SUMMER VACATION

  BRIGHT was the summer’s noon when quickening steps

  Followed each other till a dreary moor

  Was crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose top

  Standing alone, as from a rampart’s edge,

  I overlooked the bed of Windermere,

  Like a vast river, stretching in the sun.

  With exultation, at my feet I saw

  Lake, islands, promontories, gleaming bays,

  A universe of Nature’s fairest forms

  Proudly revealed with instantaneous burst, 10

  Magnificent, and beautiful, and gay.

  I bounded down the hill shouting amain

  For the old Ferryman; to the shout the rocks

  Replied, and when the Charon of the flood

  Had staid his oars, and touched the jutting pier,

  I did not step into the well-known boat

  Without a cordial greeting. Thence with speed

  Up the familiar hill I took my way

  Towards that sweet Valley where I had been reared;

  ‘Twas but a short hour’s walk, ere veering round 20

  I saw the snow-white church upon her hill

  Sit like a throned Lady, sending out

  A gracious look all over her domain.

  Yon azure smoke betrays the lurking town;

  With eager footsteps I advance and reach

  The cottage threshold where my journey closed.

  Glad welcome had I, with some tears, perhaps,

  From my old Dame, so kind and motherly,

  While she perused me with a parent’s pride.

  The thoughts of gratitude shall fall like dew 30

  Upon thy grave, good creature! While my heart

  Can beat never will I forget thy name.

  Heaven’s blessing be upon thee where thou liest

  After thy innocent and busy stir

  In narrow cares, thy little daily growth

  Of calm enjoyments, after eighty years,

  And more than eighty, of untroubled life;

  Childless, yet by the strangers to thy blood

  Honoured with little less than filial love.

  What joy was mine to see thee once again, 40

  Thee and thy dwelling, and a crowd of things

  About its narrow precincts all beloved,

  And many of them seeming yet my own!

  Why should I speak of what a thousand hearts

  Have felt, and every man alive can guess?

  The rooms, the court, the garden were not left

  Long unsaluted, nor the sunny seat

  Round the stone table under the dark pine,

  Friendly to studious or to festive hours;

  Nor that unruly child of mountain birth, 50

  The famous brook, who, soon as he was boxed

  Within our garden, found himself at once,

  As if by trick insidious and unkind,

  Stripped of his voice and left to dimple down

  (Without an effort and without a will)

  A channel paved by man’s officious care.

  I looked at him and smiled, and smiled again,

  And in the press of twenty thousand thoughts,

  “Ha,” quoth I, “pretty prisoner, are you there!”

  Well might sarcastic Fancy then have whispered, 60

  “An emblem here behold of thy own life;

  In its late course of even days with all

  Their smooth enthralment;” but the heart was full,

  Too full for that reproach. My aged Dame

  Walked proudly at my side: she guided me;

  I willing, nay—nay, wishing to be led.

  —The face of every neighbour whom I met

  Was like a volume to me; some were hailed

  Upon the road, some busy at their work,

  Unceremonious greetings interchanged 70

  With half the length of a long field between.

  Among my schoolfellows I scattered round

  Like recognitions, but with some constraint

  Attended, doubtless, with a little pride,

  But with more shame, for my habiliments,

  The transformation wrought by gay attire.

  Not less delighted did I take my place

  At our domestic table: and, dear Friend!

  In this endeavour simply to relate

  A Poet’s history, may I leave untold 80

  The thankfulness with which I laid me down

  In my accustomed bed, more welcome now

  Perhaps than if it had been more desired

  Or been more often thought of with regret;

  That lowly bed whence I had heard the wind

  Roar, and the rain beat hard; where I so oft

  Had lain awake on summer nights to watch

  The moon in splendour couched among the leaves

  Of a tall ash, that near our cottage stood;

  Had watched her with fixed eyes while to and fro 90

  In the dark summit of the waving tree

  She rocked with every impulse of the breeze.

  Among the favourites whom it pleased me well

  To see again, was one by ancient right

  Our inmate, a rough terrier of the hills;

  By birth and call of nature pre-ordained

  To hunt the badger and unearth the fox

  Among the impervious crags, but having been

  From youth our own adopted, he had passed

  Into a gentler service. And when first 100

  The boyish spirit flagged, and day by day

  Along my veins I kindled with the stir,

  The fermentation, and the vernal heat

  Of poesy, affecting private shades

  Like a sick Lover, then this dog was used

  To watch me, an attendant and a friend,

  Obsequious to my steps early and late,

  Though often of such dilatory walk

  Tired, and uneasy at the halts I made.

  A hundred times when, roving high and low, 110

  I have been harassed with the toil of verse,

  Much pains and little progress, and at once

  Some lovely Image in the song rose up

  Full-formed, like Venus rising from the sea;

  Then have I darted forwards to let loose

  My hand upon his back with stormy joy,

  Caressing him again and yet again.

  And when at evening on the public way

  I sauntered, like a river murmuring

  And talking to itself when all things else 120

  Are still, the creature trotted on before;

  Such was his custom; but whene’er he met

  A passenger approaching, he would turn

  To give me timely notice, and straightway,

  Grateful for that admonishment, I hushed

  My voice, composed my gait, and, with the air

 
And mien of one whose thoughts are free, advanced

  To give and take a greeting that might save

  My name from piteous rumours, such as wait

  On men suspected to be crazed in brain. 130

  Those walks well worthy to be prized and loved—

  Regretted!—that word, too, was on my tongue,

  But they were richly laden with all good,

  And cannot be remembered but with thanks

  And gratitude, and perfect joy of heart—

  Those walks in all their freshness now came back

  Like a returning Spring. When first I made

  Once more the circuit of our little lake,

  If ever happiness hath lodged with man,

  That day consummate happiness was mine, 140

  Wide-spreading, steady, calm, contemplative.

  The sun was set, or setting, when I left

  Our cottage door, and evening soon brought on

  A sober hour, not winning or serene,

  For cold and raw the air was, and untuned:

  But as a face we love is sweetest then

  When sorrow damps it, or, whatever look

  It chance to wear, is sweetest if the heart

  Have fulness in herself; even so with me

  It fared that evening. Gently did my soul 150

  Put off her veil, and, self-transmuted, stood

  Naked, as in the presence of her God.

  While on I walked, a comfort seemed to touch

  A heart that had not been disconsolate:

  Strength came where weakness was not known to be,

  At least not felt; and restoration came

  Like an intruder knocking at the door

  Of unacknowledged weariness. I took

  The balance, and with firm hand weighed myself.

  —Of that external scene which round me lay, 160

  Little, in this abstraction, did I see;

  Remembered less; but I had inward hopes

  And swellings of the spirit, was rapt and soothed,

  Conversed with promises, had glimmering views

  How life pervades the undecaying mind;

  How the immortal soul with God-like power

  Informs, creates, and thaws the deepest sleep

  That time can lay upon her; how on earth,

  Man, if he do but live within the light

  Of high endeavours, daily spreads abroad 170

  His being armed with strength that cannot fail.

  Nor was there want of milder thoughts, of love,

  Of innocence, and holiday repose;

  And more than pastoral quiet, ‘mid the stir

  Of boldest projects, and a peaceful end

  At last, or glorious, by endurance won.

  Thus musing, in a wood I sate me down

  Alone, continuing there to muse: the slopes

  And heights meanwhile were slowly overspread

  With darkness, and before a rippling breeze 180

  The long lake lengthened out its hoary line,

  And in the sheltered coppice where I sate,

  Around me from among the hazel leaves,

  Now here, now there, moved by the straggling wind,

  Came ever and anon a breath-like sound,

  Quick as the pantings of the faithful dog,

  The off and on companion of my walk;

  And such, at times, believing them to be,

  I turned my head to look if he were there;

  Then into solemn thought I passed once more. 190

  A freshness also found I at this time

  In human Life, the daily life of those

  Whose occupations really I loved;

  The peaceful scene oft filled me with surprise

  Changed like a garden in the heat of spring

  After an eight-days’ absence. For (to omit

  The things which were the same and yet appeared

  Far otherwise) amid this rural solitude,

  A narrow Vale where each was known to all,

  ‘Twas not indifferent to a youthful mind 200

  To mark some sheltering bower or sunny nook

  Where an old man had used to sit alone,

  Now vacant; pale-faced babes whom I had left

  In arms, now rosy prattlers at the feet

  Of a pleased grandame tottering up and down;

  And growing girls whose beauty, filched away

  With all its pleasant promises, was gone

  To deck some slighted playmate’s homely cheek.

  Yes, I had something of a subtler sense,

  And often looking round was moved to smiles 210

  Such as a delicate work of humour breeds;

  I read, without design, the opinions, thoughts,

  Of those plain-living people now observed

  With clearer knowledge; with another eye

  I saw the quiet woodman in the woods,

  The shepherd roam the hills. With new delight,

  This chiefly, did I note my grey-haired Dame;

  Saw her go forth to church or other work

  Of state equipped in monumental trim;

  Short velvet cloak, (her bonnet of the like), 220

  A mantle such as Spanish Cavaliers

  Wore in old times. Her smooth domestic life,

  Affectionate without disquietude,

  Her talk, her business, pleased me; and no less

  Her clear though shallow stream of piety

  That ran on Sabbath days a fresher course;

  With thoughts unfelt till now I saw her read

  Her Bible on hot Sunday afternoons,

  And loved the book, when she had dropped asleep

  And made of it a pillow for her head. 230

  Nor less do I remember to have felt,

  Distinctly manifested at this time,

  A human-heartedness about my love

  For objects hitherto the absolute wealth

  Of my own private being and no more;

  Which I had loved, even as a blessed spirit

  Or Angel, if he were to dwell on earth,

  Might love in individual happiness.

  But now there opened on me other thoughts

  Of change, congratulation or regret, 240

  A pensive feeling! It spread far and wide;

  The trees, the mountains shared it, and the brooks,

  The stars of Heaven, now seen in their old haunts—

  White Sirius glittering o’er the southern crags,

  Orion with his belt, and those fair Seven,

  Acquaintances of every little child,

  And Jupiter, my own beloved star!

  Whatever shadings of mortality,

  Whatever imports from the world of death

  Had come among these objects heretofore, 250

  Were, in the main, of mood less tender: strong,

  Deep, gloomy were they, and severe; the scatterings

  Of awe or tremulous dread, that had given way

  In later youth to yearnings of a love

  Enthusiastic, to delight and hope.

  As one who hangs down-bending from the side

  Of a slow-moving boat, upon the breast

  Of a still water, solacing himself

  With such discoveries as his eye can make

  Beneath him in the bottom of the deep, 260

  Sees many beauteous sights—weeds, fishes, flowers,

  Grots, pebbles, roots of trees, and fancies more,

  Yet often is perplexed, and cannot part

  The shadow from the substance, rocks and sky,

  Mountains and clouds, reflected in the depth

  Of the clear flood, from things which there abide

  In their true dwelling; now is crossed by gleam

  Of his own image, by a sunbeam now,

  And wavering motions sent he knows not whence,

  Impediments that make his task more sweet; 270

  Such pleasant office have we long pursued

  Incumbent o’er
the surface of past time

  With like success, nor often have appeared

  Shapes fairer or less doubtfully discerned

  Than these to which the Tale, indulgent Friend!

  Would now direct thy notice. Yet in spite

  Of pleasure won, and knowledge not withheld,

  There was an inner falling off—I loved,

  Loved deeply all that had been loved before,

  More deeply even than ever: but a swarm 280

  Of heady schemes jostling each other, gawds

  And feast and dance, and public revelry,

  And sports and games (too grateful in themselves,

  Yet in themselves less grateful, I believe,

  Than as they were a badge glossy and fresh

  Of manliness and freedom) all conspired

  To lure my mind from firm habitual quest

  Of feeding pleasures, to depress the zeal

  And damp those yearnings which had once been mine—

  A wild, unworldly-minded youth, given up 290

  To his own eager thoughts. It would demand

  Some skill, and longer time than may be spared

  To paint these vanities, and how they wrought

  In haunts where they, till now, had been unknown.

  It seemed the very garments that I wore

  Preyed on my strength, and stopped the quiet stream

  Of self-forgetfulness.

  Yes, that heartless chase

  Of trivial pleasures was a poor exchange

  For books and nature at that early age.

  ‘Tis true, some casual knowledge might be gained 300

  Of character or life; but at that time,

  Of manners put to school I took small note,

  And all my deeper passions lay elsewhere.

  Far better had it been to exalt the mind

  By solitary study, to uphold

  Intense desire through meditative peace;

  And yet, for chastisement of these regrets,

  The memory of one particular hour

  Doth here rise up against me. ‘Mid a throng

  Of maids and youths, old men, and matrons staid, 310

  A medley of all tempers, I had passed

  The night in dancing, gaiety, and mirth,

  With din of instruments and shuffling feet,

  And glancing forms, and tapers glittering,

  And unaimed prattle flying up and down;

  Spirits upon the stretch, and here and there

  Slight shocks of young love-liking interspersed,

  Whose transient pleasure mounted to the head,

  And tingled through the veins. Ere we retired,

  The cock had crowed, and now the eastern sky 320

  Was kindling, not unseen, from humble copse

  And open field, through which the pathway wound,

  And homeward led my steps. Magnificent

  The morning rose, in memorable pomp,