Descriptive Sketches taken during a Pedestrian Tour among the Alps
Reading edition
Composed 1791-2A—Published 1793
The Poem
To the Rev. Robert Jones, Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge Dear SirB,—However desirous I might have been of giving you proofs of the high place you hold in my esteem, I should have been cautious of wounding your delicacy by thus publicly addressing you, had not the circumstance of our having been companions among the Alps, seemed to give this dedication a propriety sufficient to do away any scruples which your modesty might otherwise have suggestedC. In inscribing this little work to you, I consult my heart. You know well how great is the difference between two companions lolling in a post-chaise, and two travellers plodding slowly along the road, side by side, each with his little knapsack of necessaries upon his shoulders. How much more of heart between the two latter! I am happy in being conscious that I shall have one reader who will approach the conclusion of these few pages with regret. You they must certainly interest, in reminding you of moments to which you can hardly look back without a pleasure not the less dear from a shade of melancholy. You will meet with few images without recollecting the spot where we observed them together; consequently, whatever is feeble in my design, or spiritless in my colouring, will be amply supplied by your own memory. With still greater propriety I might have inscribed to you a description of some of the features of your native mountains, through which we have wandered together, in the same manner, with so much pleasure. But the sea-sunsets, which give such splendour to the vale of Clwyd, Snowdon, the chair of Idris, the quiet village of Bethgelert, Menai and her Druids, the Alpine steeps of the Conway, and the still more interesting windings of the wizard stream of the Dee, remain yet untouched. Apprehensive that my pencil may never be exercised on these subjects, I cannot let slip this opportunity of thus publicly assuring you with how much affection and esteem I am, dear Sir, Most sincerely yours, W. Wordsworth. London, 1793.
Much the greatest part of this poem was composed during my walks upon the banks of the Loire, in the years 1791, 1792. I will only notice that the description of the valley filled with mist, beginning—'In solemn shapes'—was taken from that beautiful region of which the principal features are Lungarn and Sarnen. Nothing that I ever saw in Nature left a more delightful impression on my mind than that which I have attempted, alas, how feebly! to convey to others in these lines. Those two lakes have always interested me especially, from bearing in their size and other features, a resemblance to those of the North of England. It is much to be deplored that a district so beautiful should be so unhealthy as it is.—I. F.
As the original text of the Descriptive Sketches is printed in Appendix I. (p. 309) to this volume—with all the notes to that edition of 1793—it is not quoted in the footnotes to the final text in the pages which follow, except in cases which will justify themselves. Therefore the various readings which follow begin with the edition of 1815, which was, however, a mere fragment of the original text. Almost the whole of the poem of 1793 was reproduced in 1820, but there were many alterations of the text in that edition, and in those of 1827, 1832, 1836 and 1845. Wordsworth's own footnotes here reproduced are those which he retained in the edition of 1849. Descriptive Sketches was ranked among the "Juvenile Pieces" from 1815 onwards: but in 1836 it was put in a class by itself along with the Female VagrantD.—Ed.
'Happiness (if she had been to be found on earth) among the charms of Nature—
Pleasures of the pedestrian Traveller—
Author crosses France to the Alps—
Present state of the Grande Chartreuse—
Lake of Como—
Time, Sunset—
Same Scene, Twilight—
Same Scene, Morning; its voluptuous Character; Old man and forest-cottage music—
River Tusa—
Via Mala and Grison Gipsy—
Sckellenen-thal—
Lake of Uri—
Stormy sunset—
Chapel of William Tell—
Force of local emotion—
Chamois-chaser—
View of the higher Alps—
Manner of Life of a Swiss mountaineer, interspersed with views of the higher Alps—
Golden Age of the Alps—
Life and views continued—
Ranz des Vaches, famous Swiss Air—
Abbey of Einsiedlen and its pilgrims—
Valley of Chamouny—
Mont Blanc—
Slavery of Savoy—
Influence of liberty on cottage-happiness—
France—
Wish for the Extirpation of slavery—
Conclusion'.
The Poem
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Were there, below, a spot of holy ground Where from distress a refuge might be found, And solitude prepare the soul for heaven; Sure, nature's God that spot to man had given Where falls the purple morning far and wide In flakes of light upon the mountain-side; Where with loud voice the power of water shakes The leafy wood, or sleeps in quiet lakes. Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam, Who at the call of summer quits his home, And plods through some wide realm o'er vale and height, Though seeking only holiday delight; At least, not owning to himself an aim To which the sage would give a prouder name. No gains too cheaply earned his fancy cloy, Though every passing zephyr whispers joy; Brisk toil, alternating with ready ease, Feeds the clear current of his sympathies. For him sod-seats the cottage-door adorn; And peeps the far-off spire, his evening bourn! Dear is the forest frowning o'er his head, And dear the velvet green-sward to his tread: Moves there a cloud o'er mid-day's flaming eye? Upward he looks—"and calls it luxury:" Kind Nature's charities his steps attend; In every babbling brook he finds a friend; While chastening thoughts of sweetest use, bestowed By wisdom, moralise his pensive road. Host of his welcome inn, the noon-tide bower, To his spare meal he calls the passing poor; He views the sun uplift his golden fire, Or sink, with heart alive like Memnon's lyre; Blesses the moon that comes with kindly ray, To light him shaken by his rugged way. Back from his sight no bashful children steal; He sits a brother at the cottage-meal; His humble looks no shy restraint impart; Around him plays at will the virgin heart. While unsuspended wheels the village dance, The maidens eye him with enquiring glance, Much wondering by what fit of crazing care, Or desperate love, bewildered, he came there. A hope, that prudence could not then approve, That clung to Nature with a truant's love, O'er Gallia's wastes of corn my footsteps led; Her files of road-elms, high above my head In long-drawn vista, rustling in the breeze; Or where her pathways straggle as they please By lonely farms and secret villages. But lo! the Alps ascending white in air, Toy with the sun and glitter from afar. And now, emerging from the forest's gloom, I greet thee, Chartreuse, while I mourn thy doom. Whither is fled that Power whose frown severe Awed sober Reason till she crouched in fear? That Silence, once in deathlike fetters bound, Chains that were loosened only by the sound Of holy rites chanted in measured round? —The voice of blasphemy the fane alarms, The cloister startles at the gleam of arms. The thundering tube the aged angler hears, Bent o'er the groaning flood that sweeps away his tears. Cloud-piercing pine-trees nod their troubled heads, Spires, rocks, and lawns a browner night o'erspreads; Strong terror checks the female peasant's sighs, And start the astonished shades at female eyes. From Bruno's forest screams the affrighted jay, And slow the insulted eagle wheels away. A viewless flight of laughing Demons mock The Cross, by angels planted on the aërial rock. The "parting Genius" sighs with hollow breath Along the mystic streams of Life and Death. Swelling the outcry dull, that long resounds Portentous through her old woods' trackless bounds, Vallombre, 'mid her falling fanes deplores For ever broke, the sabbath of her bowers. More pleased, my foot the hidden margin roves Of Como, bosomed deep in chestnut groves. No meadows thrown between, the giddy steeps Tower, bare or sylvan, from the narrow deeps. —To towns, whose shades of no rude noise complain, From ringing team apart and grating wain— To flat-roofed towns, that touch the water's bound, Or lurk in woody sunless glens profound, Or, from the bending rocks, obtrusive cling, And o'er the whitened wave their shadows fling— The pathway leads, as round the steeps it twines; And Silence loves its purple roof of vines. The loitering traveller hence, at evening, sees From rock-hewn steps the sail between the trees; Or marks, 'mid opening cliffs, fair dark-eyed maids Tend the small harvest of their garden glades; Or stops the solemn mountain-shades to view Stretch o'er the pictured mirror broad and blue, And track the yellow lights from steep to steep, As up the opposing hills they slowly creep. Aloft, here, half a village shines, arrayed In golden light; half hides itself in shade: While, from amid the darkened roofs, the spire, Restlessly flashing, seems to mount like fire: There, all unshaded, blazing forests throw Rich golden verdure on the lake below. Slow glides the sail along the illumined shore, And steals into the shade the lazy oar; Soft bosoms breathe around contagious sighs, And amorous music on the water dies. How blest, delicious scene! the eye that greets Thy open beauties, or thy lone retreats; Beholds the unwearied sweep of wood that scales Thy cliffs; the endless waters of thy vales; Thy lowly cots that sprinkle all the shore, Each with its household boat beside the door; Thy torrents shooting from the clear-blue sky; Thy towns, that cleave, like swallows' nests, on high; That glimmer hoar in eve's last light descried Dim from the twilight water's shaggy side, Whence lutes and voices down the enchanted woods Steal, and compose the oar-forgotten floods; —Thy lake, that, streaked or dappled, blue or grey, 'Mid smoking woods gleams hid from morning's ray Slow-travelling down the western hills, to' enfold Its green-tinged margin in a blaze of gold; Thy glittering steeples, whence the matin bell Calls forth the woodman from his desert cell, And quickens the blithe sound of oars that pass Along the steaming lake, to early mass. But now farewell to each and all—adieu To every charm, and last and chief to you, Ye lovely maidens that in noontide shade Rest near your little plots of wheaten glade; To all that binds the soul in powerless trance, Lip-dewing song, and ringlet-tossing dance; Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume The sylvan cabin's lute-enlivened gloom. —Alas! the very murmur of the streams Breathes o'er the failing soul voluptuous dreams, While Slavery, forcing the sunk mind to dwell On joys that might disgrace the captive's cell, Her shameless timbrel shakes on Como's marge, And lures from bay to bay the vocal barge. Yet are thy softer arts with power indued To soothe and cheer the poor man's solitude. By silent cottage-doors, the peasant's home Left vacant for the day, I loved to roam. But once I pierced the mazes of a wood In which a cabin undeserted stood; There an old man an olden measure scanned On a rude viol touched with withered hand. As lambs or fawns in April clustering lie Under a hoary oak's thin canopy, Stretched at his feet, with stedfast upward eye, His children's children listened to the sound; —A Hermit with his family around! But let us hence; for fair Locarno smiles Embowered in walnut slopes and citron isles: Or seek at eve the banks of Tusa's stream, Where, 'mid dim towers and woods, her waters gleam. From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire The dull-red steeps, and, darkening still, aspire To where afar rich orange lustres glow Round undistinguished clouds, and rocks, and snow: Or, led where Via Mala's chasms confine The indignant waters of the infant Rhine, Hang o'er the abyss, whose else impervious gloom His burning eyes with fearful light illume. The mind condemned, without reprieve, to go O'er life's long deserts with its charge of woe, With sad congratulation joins the train Where beasts and men together o'er the plain Move on—a mighty caravan of pain: Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings, Freshening the wilderness with shades and springs. —There be whose lot far otherwise is cast: Sole human tenant of the piny waste, By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here, A nursling babe her only comforter; Lo, where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock, A cowering shape half hid in curling smoke! When lightning among clouds and mountain-snows Predominates, and darkness comes and goes, And the fierce torrent, at the flashes broad Starts, like a horse, beside the glaring road— She seeks a covert from the battering shower In the roofed bridge; the bridge, in that dread hour, Itself all trembling at the torrent's power. Nor is she more at ease on some still night, When not a star supplies the comfort of its light; Only the waning moon hangs dull and red Above a melancholy mountain's head, Then sets. In total gloom the Vagrant sighs, Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes; Or on her fingers counts the distant clock, Or, to the drowsy crow of midnight cock, Listens, or quakes while from the forest's gulf Howls near and nearer yet the famished wolf. From the green vale of Urseren smooth and wide Descend we now, the maddened Reuss our guide; By rocks that, shutting out the blessed day, Cling tremblingly to rocks as loose as they; By cells upon whose image, while he prays, The kneeling peasant scarcely dares to gaze; By many a votive death-cross planted near, And watered duly with the pious tear, That faded silent from the upward eye Unmoved with each rude form of peril nigh; Fixed on the anchor left by Him who saves Alike in whelming snows, and roaring waves. But soon a peopled region on the sight Opens—a little world of calm delight; Where mists, suspended on the expiring gale, Spread roof like o'er the deep secluded vale, And beams of evening slipping in between, Gently illuminate a sober scene:— Here, on the brown wood-cottages they sleep, There, over rock or sloping pasture creep. On as we journey, in clear view displayed, The still vale lengthens underneath its shade Of low-hung vapour: on the freshened mead The green light sparkles;—the dim bowers recede. While pastoral pipes and streams the landscape lull, And bells of passing mules that tinkle dull, In solemn shapes before the admiring eye Dilated hang the misty pines on high, Huge convent domes with pinnacles and towers, And antique castles seen through gleamy showers. From such romantic dreams, my soul, awake! To sterner pleasure, where, by Uri's lake In Nature's pristine majesty outspread, Winds neither road nor path for foot to tread: The rocks rise naked as a wall, or stretch, Far o'er the water, hung with groves of beech; Aerial pines from loftier steeps ascend, Nor stop but where creation seems to end. Yet here and there, if 'mid the savage scene Appears a scanty plot of smiling green, Up from the lake a zigzag path will creep To reach a small wood-hut hung boldly on the steep. —Before those thresholds (never can they know The face of traveller passing to and fro,) No peasant leans upon his pole, to tell For whom at morning tolled the funeral bell; Their watch-dog ne'er his angry bark foregoes, Touched by the beggar's moan of human woes; The shady porch ne'er offered a cool seat To pilgrims overcome by summer's heat. Yet thither the world's business finds its way At times, and tales unsought beguile the day, And there are those fond thoughts which Solitude, However stern, is powerless to exclude. There doth the maiden watch her lover's sail Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale; At midnight listens till his parting oar, And its last echo, can be heard no more. And what if ospreys, cormorants, herons cry, Amid tempestuous vapours driving by, Or hovering over wastes too bleak to rear That common growth of earth, the foodful ear; Where the green apple shrivels on the spray, And pines the unripened pear in summer's kindliest ray; Contentment shares the desolate domain With Independence, child of high Disdain. Exulting 'mid the winter of the skies, Shy as the jealous chamois, Freedom flies, And grasps by fits her sword, and often eyes; And sometimes, as from rock to rock she bounds The Patriot nymph starts at imagined sounds, And, wildly pausing, oft she hangs aghast, Whether some old Swiss air hath checked her haste Or thrill of Spartan fife is caught between the blast. Swoln with incessant rains from hour to hour, All day the floods a deepening murmur pour: The sky is veiled, and every cheerful sight: Dark is the region as with coming night; But what a sudden burst of overpowering light! Triumphant on the bosom of the storm, Glances the wheeling eagle's glorious form! Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine The wood-crowned cliffs that o'er the lake recline; Those lofty cliffs a hundred streams unfold, At once to pillars turned that flame with gold: Behind his sail the peasant shrinks, to shun The west, that burns like one dilated sun, A crucible of mighty compass, felt By mountains, glowing till they seem to melt. But, lo! the boatman, overawed, before The pictured fane of Tell suspends his oar; Confused the Marathonian tale appears, While his eyes sparkle with heroic tears. And who, that walks where men of ancient days Have wrought with godlike arm the deeds of praise, Feels not the spirit of the place control, Or rouse and agitate his labouring soul? Say, who, by thinking on Canadian hills, Or wild Aosta lulled by Alpine rills, On Zutphen's plain; or on that highland dell, Through which rough Garry cleaves his way, can tell What high resolves exalt the tenderest thought Of him whom passion rivets to the spot, Where breathed the gale that caught Wolfe's happiest sigh, And the last sunbeam fell on Bayard's eye; Where bleeding Sidney from the cup retired, And glad Dundee in "faint huzzas" expired? But now with other mind I stand alone Upon the summit of this naked cone, And watch the fearless chamois-hunter chase His prey, through tracts abrupt of desolate space, Through vacant worlds where Nature never gave A brook to murmur or a bough to wave, Which unsubstantial Phantoms sacred keep; Thro' worlds where Life, and Voice, and Motion sleep; Where silent Hours their death-like sway extend, Save when the avalanche breaks loose, to rend Its way with uproar, till the ruin, drowned In some dense wood or gulf of snow profound, Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound. —'Tis his, while wandering on from height to height, To see a planet's pomp and steady light In the least star of scarce-appearing night; While the pale moon moves near him, on the bound Of ether, shining with diminished round, And far and wide the icy summits blaze, Rejoicing in the glory of her rays: To him the day-star glitters small and bright, Shorn of its beams, insufferably white, And he can look beyond the sun, and view Those fast-receding depths of sable blue Flying till vision can no more pursue! —At once bewildering mists around him close, And cold and hunger are his least of woes; The Demon of the snow, with angry roar Descending, shuts for aye his prison door. Soon with despair's whole weight his spirits sink; Bread has he none, the snow must be his drink; And, ere his eyes can close upon the day, The eagle of the Alps o'ershades her prey. Now couch thyself where, heard with fear afar, Thunders through echoing pines the headlong Aar; Or rather stay to taste the mild delights Of pensive Underwalden's pastoral heights. —Is there who 'mid these awful wilds has seen The native Genii walk the mountain green? Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal, Soft music o'er the aërial summit steal? While o'er the desert, answering every close, Rich steam of sweetest perfume comes and goes. —And sure there is a secret Power that reigns Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes, Nought but the chalets, flat and bare, on high Suspended 'mid the quiet of the sky; Or distant herds that pasturing upward creep, And, not untended, climb the dangerous steep. How still! no irreligious sound or sight Rouses the soul from her severe delight. An idle voice the sabbath region fills Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills, And with that voice accords the soothing sound Of drowsy bells, for ever tinkling round; Faint wail of eagle melting into blue Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods' steady sugh; The solitary heifer's deepened low; Or rumbling, heard remote, of falling snow. All motions, sounds, and voices, far and nigh, Blend in a music of tranquillity; Save when, a stranger seen below the boy Shouts from the echoing hills with savage joy. When, from the sunny breast of open seas, And bays with myrtle fringed, the southern breeze Comes on to gladden April with the sight Of green isles widening on each snow-clad height; When shouts and lowing herds the valley fill, And louder torrents stun the noon-tide hill, The pastoral Swiss begin the cliffs to scale, Leaving to silence the deserted vale; And like the Patriarchs in their simple age Move, as the verdure leads, from stage to stage; High and more high in summer's heat they go, And hear the rattling thunder far below; Or steal beneath the mountains, half-deterred, Where huge rocks tremble to the bellowing herd. One I behold who, 'cross the foaming flood, Leaps with a bound of graceful hardihood; Another high on that green ledge;—he gained The tempting spot with every sinew strained; And downward thence a knot of grass he throws, Food for his beasts in time of winter snows. —Far different life from what Tradition hoar Transmits of happier lot in times of yore! Then Summer lingered long; and honey flowed From out the rocks, the wild bees' safe abode: Continual waters welling cheered the waste, And plants were wholesome, now of deadly taste: Nor Winter yet his frozen stores had piled, Usurping where the fairest herbage smiled: Nor Hunger driven the herds from pastures bare, To climb the treacherous cliffs for scanty fare. Then the milk-thistle flourished through the land, And forced the full-swoln udder to demand, Thrice every day, the pail and welcome hand. Thus does the father to his children tell Of banished bliss, by fancy loved too well. Alas! that human guilt provoked the rod Of angry Nature to avenge her God. Still, Nature, ever just, to him imparts Joys only given to uncorrupted hearts. 'Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows; More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose. Far-stretched beneath the many-tinted hills, A mighty waste of mist the valley fills, A solemn sea! whose billows wide around Stand motionless, to awful silence bound: Pines, on the coast, through mist their tops uprear, That like to leaning masts of stranded ships appear. A single chasm, a gulf of gloomy blue, Gapes in the centre of the sea—and through That dark mysterious gulf ascending, sound Innumerable streams with roar profound. Mount through the nearer vapours notes of birds, And merry flageolet; the low of herds, The bark of dogs, the heifer's tinkling bell, Talk, laughter, and perchance a church-tower knell: Think not, the peasant from aloft has gazed And heard with heart unmoved, with soul unraised: Nor is his spirit less enrapt, nor less Alive to independent happiness, Then, when he lies, out-stretched, at even-tide Upon the fragrant mountain's purple side: For as the pleasures of his simple day Beyond his native valley seldom stray, Nought round its darling precincts can he find But brings some past enjoyment to his mind; While Hope, reclining upon Pleasure's urn, Binds her wild wreaths, and whispers his return. Once, Man entirely free, alone and wild, Was blest as free—for he was Nature's child. He, all superior but his God disdained, Walked none restraining, and by none restrained: Confessed no law but what his reason taught, Did all he wished, and wished but what he ought. As man in his primeval dower arrayed The image of his glorious Sire displayed, Even so, by faithful Nature guarded, here The traces of primeval Man appear; The simple dignity no forms debase; The eye sublime, and surly lion-grace: The slave of none, of beasts alone the lord, His book he prizes, nor neglects his sword; —Well taught by that to feel his rights, prepared With this "the blessings he enjoys to guard." And, as his native hills encircle ground For many a marvellous victory renowned, The work of Freedom daring to oppose, With few in arms, innumerable foes, When to those famous fields his steps are led, An unknown power connects him with the dead: For images of other worlds are there; Awful the light, and holy is the air. Fitfully, and in flashes, through his soul, Like sun-lit tempests, troubled transports roll; His bosom heaves, his Spirit towers amain, Beyond the senses and their little reign. And oft, when that dread vision hath past by, He holds with God himself communion high, There where the peal of swelling torrents fills The sky-roofed temple of the eternal hills; Or, when upon the mountain's silent brow Reclined, he sees, above him and below, Bright stars of ice and azure fields of snow; While needle peaks of granite shooting bare Tremble in ever-varying tints of air. And when a gathering weight of shadows brown Falls on the valleys as the sun goes down; And Pikes, of darkness named and fear and storms, Uplift in quiet their illumined forms, In sea-like reach of prospect round him spread, Tinged like an angel's smile all rosy red— Awe in his breast with holiest love unites, And the near heavens impart their own delights. When downward to his winter hut he goes, Dear and more dear the lessening circle grows; That hut which on the hills so oft employs His thoughts, the central point of all his joys. And as a swallow, at the hour of rest, Peeps often ere she darts into her nest, So to the homestead, where the grandsire tends A little prattling child, he oft descends, To glance a look upon the well-matched pair; Till storm and driving ice blockade him there. There, safely guarded by the woods behind, He hears the chiding of the baffled wind, Hears Winter calling all his terrors round, And, blest within himself, he shrinks not from the sound. Through Nature's vale his homely pleasures glide, Unstained by envy, discontent, and pride; The bound of all his vanity, to deck, With one bright bell, a favourite heifer's neck; Well pleased upon some simple annual feast, Remembered half the year and hoped the rest, If dairy-produce, from his inner hoard, Of thrice ten summers dignify the board. —Alas! in every clime a flying ray Is all we have to cheer our wintry way; And here the unwilling mind may more than trace The general sorrows of the human race: The churlish gales of penury, that blow Cold as the north-wind o'er a waste of snow, To them the gentle groups of bliss deny That on the noon-day bank of leisure lie. Yet more;—compelled by Powers which only deign That solitary man disturb their reign, Powers that support an unremitting strife With all the tender charities of life, Full oft the father, when his sons have grown To manhood, seems their title to disown; And from his nest amid the storms of heaven Drives, eagle-like, those sons as he was driven; With stern composure watches to the plain— And never, eagle-like, beholds again! When long familiar joys are all resigned, Why does their sad remembrance haunt the mind? Lo! where through flat Batavia's willowy groves, Or by the lazy Seine, the exile roves; O'er the curled waters Alpine measures swell, And search the affections to their inmost cell; Sweet poison spreads along the listener's veins, Turning past pleasures into mortal pains; Poison, which not a frame of steel can brave, Bows his young head with sorrow to the grave. Gay lark of hope, thy silent song resume! Ye flattering eastern lights, once more the hills illume! Fresh gales and dews of life's delicious morn, And thou, lost fragrance of the heart, return! Alas! the little joy to man allowed, Fades like the lustre of an evening cloud; Or like the beauty in a flower installed, Whose season was, and cannot be recalled. Yet, when opprest by sickness, grief, or care, And taught that pain is pleasure's natural heir, We still confide in more than we can know; Death would be else the favourite friend of woe. 'Mid savage rocks, and seas of snow that shine, Between interminable tracts of pine, Within a temple stands an awful shrine, By an uncertain light revealed, that falls On the mute Image and the troubled walls. Oh! give not me that eye of hard disdain That views, undimmed, Ensiedlen's wretched fane. While ghastly faces through the gloom appear, Abortive joy, and hope that works in fear; While prayer contends with silenced agony, Surely in other thoughts contempt may die. If the sad grave of human ignorance bear One flower of hope—oh, pass and leave it there! The tall sun, pausing on an Alpine spire, Flings o'er the wilderness a stream of fire: Now meet we other pilgrims ere the day Close on the remnant of their weary way; While they are drawing toward the sacred floor Where, so they fondly think, the worm shall gnaw no more. How gaily murmur and how sweetly taste The fountains reared for them amid the waste! Their thirst they slake:—they wash their toil-worn feet, And some with tears of joy each other greet. Yes, I must see you when ye first behold Those holy turrets tipped with evening gold, In that glad moment will for you a sigh Be heaved, of charitable sympathy; In that glad moment when your hands are prest In mute devotion on the thankful breast! Last, let us turn to Chamouny that shields With rocks and gloomy woods her fertile fields: Five streams of ice amid her cots descend, And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend;— A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains; Here all the seasons revel hand in hand: 'Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned They sport beneath that mountain's matchless height That holds no commerce with the summer night. From age to age, throughout his lonely bounds The crash of ruin fitfully resounds; Appalling havoc! but serene his brow, Where daylight lingers on perpetual snow; Glitter the stars, and all is black below. What marvel then if many a Wanderer sigh, While roars the sullen Arve in anger by, That not for thy reward, unrivall'd Vale! Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale; That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed to pine And droop, while no Italian arts are thine, To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine. Hail Freedom! whether it was mine to stray, With shrill winds whistling round my lonely way, On the bleak sides of Cumbria's heath-clad moors, Or where dank sea-weed lashes Scotland's shores; To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose, And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows; Still have I found, where Tyranny prevails, That virtue languishes and pleasure fails, While the remotest hamlets blessings share In thy loved presence known, and only there; Heart-blessings—outward treasures too which the eye Of the sun peeping through the clouds can spy, And every passing breeze will testify. There, to the porch, belike with jasmine bound Or woodbine wreaths, a smoother path is wound; The housewife there a brighter garden sees, Where hum on busier wing her happy bees; On infant cheeks there fresher roses blow; And grey-haired men look up with livelier brow,— To greet the traveller needing food and rest; Housed for the night, or but a half-hour's guest. And oh, fair France! though now the traveller sees Thy three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze; Though martial songs have banished songs of love, And nightingales desert the village grove, Scared by the fife and rumbling drum's alarms, And the short thunder, and the flash of arms; That cease not till night falls, when far and nigh, Sole sound, the Sourd prolongs his mournful cry! —Yet, hast thou found that Freedom spreads her power Beyond the cottage-hearth, the cottage-door: All nature smiles, and owns beneath her eyes Her fields peculiar, and peculiar skies. Yes, as I roamed where Loiret's waters glide Through rustling aspens heard from side to side, When from October clouds a milder light Fell where the blue flood rippled into white; Methought from every cot the watchful bird Crowed with ear-piercing power till then unheard; Each clacking mill, that broke the murmuring streams, Rocked the charmed thought in more delightful dreams; Chasing those pleasant dreams, the falling leaf Awoke a fainter sense of moral grief; The measured echo of the distant flail Wound in more welcome cadence down the vale; With more majestic course the water rolled, And ripening foliage shone with richer gold. —But foes are gathering—Liberty must raise Red on the hills her beacon's far-seen blaze; Must bid the tocsin ring from tower to tower!— Nearer and nearer comes the trying hour! Rejoice, brave Land, though pride's perverted ire Rouse hell's own aid, and wrap thy fields in fire: Lo, from the flames a great and glorious birth; As if a new-made heaven were hailing a new earth! —All cannot be: the promise is too fair For creatures doomed to breathe terrestrial air: Yet not for this will sober reason frown Upon that promise, not the hope disown; She knows that only from high aims ensue Rich guerdons, and to them alone are due. Great God! by whom the strifes of men are weighed In an impartial balance, give thine aid To the just cause; and, oh! do thou preside Over the mighty stream now spreading wide: So shall its waters, from the heavens supplied In copious showers, from earth by wholesome springs, Brood o'er the long-parched lands with Nile-like wings! And grant that every sceptred child of clay Who cries presumptuous, "Here the flood shall stay," May in its progress see thy guiding hand, And cease the acknowledged purpose to withstand; Or, swept in anger from the insulted shore, Sink with his servile bands, to rise no more! To-night, my Friend, within this humble cot Be scorn and fear and hope alike forgot In timely sleep; and when, at break of day, On the tall peaks the glistening sunbeams play, With a light heart our course we may renew, The first whose footsteps print the mountain dew. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 / 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 E F G H J K L M N P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Aa Bb Cc Dd Ee Ee Ee Ff Gg Hh 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 130 135 140 145 150 155 160 165 170 175 180 185 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 225 230 235 240 245 250 255 260 265 270 275 280 285 290 295 300 305 310 315 320 325 330 335 340 345 350 355 360 365 370 375 380 385 390 395 400 405 410 415 420 425 430 435 440 445 450 455 460 465 470 475 480 485 490 495 500 505 510 515 520 525 530 535 540 545 550 555 560 565 570 575 580 585 590 595 600 605 610 615 620 625 630 635 640 645 650 655 660 665 670
Variant 1:
1827
... a spot of holy ground, By Pain and her sad family unfound, Sure, Nature's God that spot to man had given, Where murmuring rivers join the song of even; Where falls ... 1820
return to variant mark
Variant 2:
1836
Where the resounding power of water shakes Where with loud voice the power of waters shakes 1820 1827
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Variant 3:
1836
And not unrecompensed the man shall roam, Who, to converse with Nature, quits his home, And plods o'er hills and vales his way forlorn, Wooing her various charms from eve to morn. Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam, Who at the call of summer quits his home, And plods through some far realm o'er vale and height, Though seeking only holiday delight; 1820 1827
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Variant 4:
Lines 13 and 14 were introduced in 1827.
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Variant 5:
1827
No sad vacuitiesi his heart annoy;— Blows not a Zephyr but it whispers joy; For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale; He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale; For him sod-seats ... Breathes not a zephyr but it whispers joy; For him the loneliest flowers their sweets exhale; He marks "the meanest note that swells theii gale;" 1815 1820
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Variant 6:
1820
And dear the green-sward to his velvet tread; 1815
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Variant 7:
1815
Whilst ... Only in 1820.
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Variant 8:
1820
... with kindest ray To light him shaken by his viewless way. 1815
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Variant 9:
1836
With bashful fear no cottage children steal From him, a brother at the cottage meal, 1815
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Variant 10:
1845
Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing Care, Or desperate Love could lead a wanderer there. Much wondering in what fit of crazing care, Or desperate love, a wanderer came there. 1815 1836
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Variant 11:
1836
Me, lured by hope her sorrows to remove, A heart that could not much itself approve, O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led, Her road elms rustling high above my head, Or through her truant pathways' native charms, By secret villages and lonely farms, To where the Alps ... ... could not much herself approve, ... lured by hope its sorrows to remove, 1820 1827 1832
The lines 46, 47, were expanded in the edition of 1836 from one line in the editions of 1820-1832.
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Variant 12:
1836
I sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom. Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear? That breathed a death-like peace these woods around; The cloister startles ... Even now, emerging from the forest's gloom, I heave a sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom. Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear? 1815 1820
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Variant 13:
1836
That breathed a death-like silence wide around, Broke only by the unvaried torrent's sound, Or prayer-bell by the dull cicada drown'd. 1820
The editions of 1827 and 1832 omit these lines.
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Variant 14:
1836
The cloister startles at the gleam of arms, And Blasphemy the shuddering fane alarms; 1815
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Variant 15:
1793
That ... 1827
The edition of 1836 returns to the text of 1793.
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Variant 16:
1836
And swells the groaning torrent with his tears. 1815
In the editions 1815-1832 lines 61, 62 followed line 66.
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Variant 17:
1836
Nod the cloud-piercing pines their troubled heads, 1815
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Variant 18:
1836
The cross with hideous laughter Demons mock, By angels planted on the aereal rock. The cross, by angels on the aërial rock Planted, a flight of laughing demons mock. 1815 1832
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Variant 19:
1836
... sound ... 1815
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Variant 20:
1836
To ringing team unknown ... 1815
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Variant 21:
1827
Wild round the steeps the little pathway twines, 1815
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Variant 22:
1836
The viewless lingerer ... 1815
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Variant 23:
1845
Tracking the yellow sun from steep to steep, As up the opposing hills, with tortoise foot, they creep. And track the yellow light ... ... on naked steeps As up the opposing hill it slowly creeps. 1815 1836 C.
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Variant 24:
1845
Here half a village shines, in gold arrayed, Bright as the moon; ... 1815
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Variant 25:
1827
From the dark sylvan roofs the restless spire Inconstant glancing, mounts like springing fire. 1815
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Variant 26:
1836
... the waves ... 1815
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Variant 27:
1836
Th' unwearied sweep of wood thy cliffs that scales; The never-ending waters of thy vales; 1815
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Variant 28:
1836 Line 111 was previously three lines, thus:
The cots, those dim religious groves embower, Or, under rocks that from the water tower Insinuated, sprinkling all the shore, 1815
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Variant 29:
1836
... his ... 1815
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Variant 30:
1836
Whose flaccid sails in forms fantastic droop, Bright'ning the gloom where thick the forests stoop; Only in the editions 1815 to 1832.
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Variant 31:
1827
... like swallows' nests that cleave on high; 1815
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Variant 32:
1827
While Evening's solemn bird melodious weeps, Heard, by star-spotted bays, beneath the steeps; Only in the editions of 1815 and 1820.
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Variant 33:
1836
—Thy lake, mid smoking woods, that blue and grey Gleams, streaked or dappled, hid from morning's ray As beautiful the flood where blue or grey Dappled, or streaked, as hid from morning's ray. 1815 C.
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Variant 34:
1836
... to fold 1815
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Variant 35:
1836
From thickly-glittering spires the matin bell Calling the woodman from his desert cell, A summons to the sound of oars, that pass, Spotting the steaming deeps, to early mass; Slow swells the service o'er the water born, While fill each pause the ringing woods of morn. Calls forth the woodman with its cheerful knell. 1815 C.
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Variant 36:
This couplet was first added in 1845.
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Variant 37:
1845
Farewell those forms that in thy noon-tide shade, Rest, near their little plots of wheaten glade; Ye lovely forms that in the noontide shade Rest near their little plots of wheaten glade. 1820 C.
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Variant 38:
1845
Those charms that bind ... 1820
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Variant 39:
1836
And winds, ... 1820
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Variant 40:
1836
Yet arts are thine that soothe the unquiet heart, And smiles to Solitude and Want impart. I lov'd, 'mid thy most desart woods astray, With pensive step to measure my slow way, By lonely, silent cottage-doors to roam, The far-off peasant's day-deserted home. I loved by silent cottage-doors to roam, The far-off peasant's day-deserted home; 1820 1827
These two lines take the place of the second and third couplets of the 1820 text quoted above.
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Variant 41:
1836
Once did I pierce to where a cabin stood; The red-breast peace had buried it in wood, And once I pierced the mazes of a wood, Where, far from public haunt, a cabin stood; 1820 1827
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Variant 42:
1836
There, by the door a hoary-headed Sire Touched with his withered hand an ancient lyre; 1820
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Variant 43:
1836 This and the following line were expanded from:
Beneath an old-grey oak, as violets lie, 1820
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Variant 44:
1836
... joined the holy sound; 1820
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Variant 45:
1836
While ... 1820
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Variant 46:
1845
Bend o'er th' abyss, the else impervious gloom Hang o'er th' abyss:— ... ... the abyss:— ... 1820 1827 1832
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Variant 47:
1836
Freshening the waste of sand with shades and springs. —She, solitary, through the desart drear Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear. By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here, Companionless, or hand in hand with fear; Lo! where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock, A cowering shape half-seen through curling smoke. 1820 MS.
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Variant 48:
1836
The Grison gypsey here her tent hath placed, Sole human tenant of the piny waste; Her tawny skin, dark eyes, and glossy locks, Bend o'er the smoke that curls beneath the rocksiii. 1820
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Variant 49:
Lines 179-185 were substituted in 1845 for:
A giant moan along the forest swells Protracted, and the twilight storm foretels, And, ruining from the cliffs, their deafening load Tumbles,—the wildering Thunder slips abroad; On the high summits Darkness comes and goes, Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows; The torrent, traversed by the lustre broad, Starts like a horse beside the flashing road; In the roofed bridge, at that terrific hour, She seeks a shelter from the battering show'r. —Fierce comes the river down; the crashing wood Gives way, and half it's pines torment the flood; ivFearful, beneath, the Water-spirits call, And the bridge vibrates, tottering to its fall. When rueful moans along the forest swell Protracted, and the twilight storm foretel, And, headlong from the cliffs, a deafening load Tumbles,—and wildering thunder slips abroad; When on the summits Darkness comes and goes, Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows; And the fierce torrent, from the lustre broad, Starts, like a horse beside the flashing road— She seeks a covert from the battering shower In the roofed bridge; the bridge, in that dread hour, Itself all quaking at the torrent's power. 1820 1836
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Variant 50:
1845 Lines 186-195 were substituted in 1845 for:
—Heavy, and dull, and cloudy is the night; No star supplies the comfort of it's light, Glimmer the dim-lit Alps, dilated, round, And one sole light shifts in the vale profound1; While2, opposite, the waning moon hangs still, And red, above her3 melancholy hill. By the deep quiet gloom appalled, she sighs,4 Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes. She hears, upon the mountain forest's brow, The death-dog, howling loud and long, below; —Breaking th' ascending roar of desert floods, And insect buzz, that stuns the sultry woods5, On viewless fingers6 counts the valley-clock, Followed by drowsy crow of midnight cock. —Bursts from the troubled larch's giant boughs The pie, and, chattering, breaks the night's repose7. The dry leaves stir as with the serpent's walk, And, far beneath, Banditti voices talk; Behind her hill8, the Moon, all crimson, rides, And his red eyes the slinking Water hides. —Vexed by the darkness, from the piny gulf Ascending, nearer howls the famished wolf9, While thro' the stillness scatters wild dismay Her babe's small cry, that leads him to his prey. 1820
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Variant 51:
1836
Now, passing Urseren's open vale serene, Her quiet streams, and hills of downy green, Plunge with the Russ embrowned by Terror's breath, Where danger roofs the narrow walks of death; Plunge where the Reuss with fearless might has rent His headlong way along a dark descent. 1815 MS.
In the edition of 1836 these two couplets of 1815 were compressed into one, and in that edition lines 200-201 preceded lines 198-199. They were transposed in 1840.
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Variant 52:
1836
By floods, that, thundering from their dizzy height, Swell more gigantic on the stedfast sight; Black drizzling crags, that beaten by the din, Vibrate, as if a voice complained within; Bare steeps, where Desolation stalks afraid, Unstedfast, by a blasted yew unstayed; By cells whose image, trembling as he prays, Awe-struck, the kneeling peasant scarce surveys; Loose hanging rocks the Day's bless'd eye that hide, And crosses reared to Death on every side, Which with cold kiss Devotion planted near, And bending water'd with the human tear; That faded "silent" from her upward eye, Unmoved with each rude form of Danger nigh, 1815
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Variant 53:
1836
On as we move a softer prospect opes, Calm huts, and lawns between, and sylvan slopes. 1815
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Variant 54:
1845
While mists, suspended on the expiring gale, Moveless o'er-hang the deep secluded vale, Where mists, Where mists suspended on the evening gale, Spread roof-like o'er a deep secluded vale, Given to clear view beneath a hoary veil Of mists suspended on the evening gale. 1815 1836 C. MS.
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Variant 55:
1836
The beams of evening, slipping soft between, Light up of tranquil joy a sober scene. Gently illuminate a sober scene; 1815 1827
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Variant 56:
In the editions 1815-1832 ll. 214, 215 follow, instead of preceding, ll. 216-219.
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Variant 57:
1845
On the low brown wood-huts delighted sleep Along the brightened gloom reposing deep. Here, on the brown wood-cottages they sleep, There, over lawns and sloping woodlands creep. There, over lawn or sloping pasture creep. 1815 1836 C.
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Variant 58:
1845
Winding its dark-green wood and emerald glade, The still vale lengthens underneath the shade; While in soft gloom the scattering bowers recede, Green dewy lights adorn the freshened mead, Winding its darksome wood and emerald glade, The still vale lengthens underneath the shade Of low-hung vapour: on the freshened mead The green light sparkles;—the dim bowers recede. 1815 1836
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Variant 59:
1836
... drizzling ... 1815
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Variant 60:
1845
... my soul awake, Lo! Fear looks silent down on Uri's lake; Where by the unpathwayed margin still and dread Was never heard the plodding peasant's tread: 1815
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Variant 61:
1845
Tower like a wall the naked rocks, or reach Far o'er the secret water dark with beech; Tower-like rise up the naked rocks, or stretch 1815 1836
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Variant 62:
1845
More high, to where creation seems to end, Shade above shade the desert pines ascend. ... the aërial pines ... Shade above shade, the aërial pines ascend, Nor stop but where creation seems to end. 1815 1820 1836
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Variant 63:
1845 (Compressing eight lines into four:)
Yet, with his infants, man undaunted creeps And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps, Where'er, below, amid the savage scene Peeps out a little speck of smiling green. A garden-plot the mountain air perfumes, Mid the dark pines a little orchard blooms; A zig-zag path from the domestic skiff, Threading the painful crag, surmounts the cliff. ... wood-cabin on the steeps. ... the desert air perfumes, Thridding the painful crag, ... Yet, wheresoe'er amid the savage scene Peeps out a little spot of smiling green, Man with his babes undaunted thither creeps, And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps. A garden-plot ... 1815 1820 1820 1832 1836
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Variant 64:
1845
—Before those hermit doors, that never know —Before those lonesome doors, ... 1815 1836
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Variant 65:
1845
The grassy seat beneath their casement shade The pilgrim's wistful eye hath never stayed. The shady porch ne'er offered a cool seat To pilgrims overpowered by summer's heat. 1815 1836
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Variants 66 & 67:
See
Appendix III.
—Ed.
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Variant 68:
1845 Lines 246 to 253 were previously:
—There, did the iron Genius not disdain The gentle Power that haunts the myrtle plain, There might the love-sick Maiden sit, and chide Th' insuperable rocks and severing tide, There watch at eve her Lover's sun-gilt sail Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale, There list at midnight, till is heard no more, Below, the echo of his parting oar, There hang in fear, when growls the frozen streamv, To guide his dangerous tread, the taper's gleam. There might the maiden chide, in love-sick mood, The insuperable rocks and severing flood; At midnight listen till his parting oar, And its last echo, can be heard no more. Yet tender thoughts dwell there, no solitude Hath power youth's natural feelings to exclude; There doth the maiden watch her lover's sail Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale. 1815 1836 1836 C.
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Variant 69:
1845
Mid stormy vapours ever driving by, Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry; Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry, 'Mid stormy vapours ever driving by, 1815 1836
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Variant 70:
1836
Where hardly given the hopeless waste to cheer, Denied the bread of life the foodful ear, Hovering o'er rugged wastes too bleak to rear That common growth of earth, the foodful ear; 1815 1820
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Variant 71:
1820
Dwindles the pear on autumn's latest spray, And apple sickens pale in summer's ray; 1815
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Variant 72:
1845
Ev'n here Content has fixed her smiling reign 1815
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Variant 73:
1845
And often grasps her sword, and often eyes: Her crest a bough of Winter's bleakest pine, Strange "weeds" and alpine plants her helm entwine, And wildly-pausing oft she hangs aghast, While thrills the "Spartan fife" between the blast. Flowers of the loftiest Alps her helm entwine; And, wildly pausing, oft she hangs aghast, As thrills ... And oft at Fancy's call she stands aghast, As if some old Swiss air had checked her haste, Or thrill of Spartan fife were caught between the blast. 1815 1836 C.
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Variant 74:
1845
'Tis storm; and, hid in mist from hour to hour, 1815
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Variant 75:
1845
Glances the fire-clad eagle's wheeling form; ... glorious form; 1815 1836
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Variant 76:
1845
Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold, Those eastern cliffs ... 1815 1836
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Variant 77:
1845
... strives to shun The west ... ... tries to shun The west, ... 1815 1836
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Variant 78:
1845
Where in a mighty crucible expire The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire. 1815
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Variant 79:
1836
While burn in his full eyes the glorious tears. 1820
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Variant 80:
1836
Exalt, and agitate ... 1820
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Variant 81:
1836
On Zutphen's plain; or where, with soften'd gaze, The old grey stones the plaided chief surveys; Can guess the high resolve, the cherished pain Of him whom passion rivets to the plain, 1820
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Variant 82:
1836
And watch, from pike to pike, amid the sky Small as a bird the chamois-chaser fly, 1820
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Variant 83:
1836
Thro' worlds where Life, and Sound, and Motion sleep; Where Silence still her death-like reign extends, Save when the startling cliff unfrequent rends: In the deep snow the mighty ruin drowned, Mocks the dull ear ... 1820
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Variant 84:
1836
While the near moon, that coasts the vast profound, Wheels pale and silent her diminished round, 1820
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Variant 85:
1827
Flying more fleet than vision can pursue! 1820
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Variant 86:
1836
Then with Despair's whole weight his spirits sink, No bread to feed him, and the snow his drink, While, ere his eyes ... 1820
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Variant 87:
1836
Hence shall we turn where, heard with fear afar, 1820
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Variant 88:
1836
... from ... 1820
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Variant 89:
1836
Nought but the herds that pasturing upward creep, Hung dim-discover'd from the dangerous steep, Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high Suspended, mid the quiet of the sky. 1815
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Variant 90:
1836
Broke only by the melancholy sound 1815
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Variant 91:
The two previous lines were added in 1836.
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Variant 92:
1832
Save that, the stranger seen below, ... 1815
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Variant 93:
1836
When warm from myrtle bays and tranquil seas, Comes on, to whisper hope, the vernal breeze, When hums the mountain bee in May's glad ear, And emerald isles to spot the heights appear, 1815
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Variant 94:
When fragrant scents beneath th' enchanted tread Spring up, his choicest wealth around him spread, Inserted in the editions 1815 to 1832.
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Variant 95:
1836
The pastoral Swiss begins the cliffs to scale, To silence leaving the deserted vale, 1815
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Variant 96:
1836
Mounts, where the verdure leads, from stage to stage, And pastures on, as in the Patriarch's age: 1815
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Variant 97:
1836
O'er lofty heights serene and still they go, 1815
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Variant 98:
1836 (Omitting the first of the two following couplets:)
They cross the chasmy torrent's foam-lit bed, Rocked on the dizzy larch's narrow tread; Or steal beneath loose mountains, half deterr'd, That sigh and shudder to the lowing herd. 1815
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Variant 99:
This couplet was added in the edition of 1836.
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Variant 100:
1836 Lines 380-385 were previously:
—I see him, up the midway cliff he creeps To where a scanty knot of verdure peeps, Thence down the steep a pile of grass he throws, The fodder of his herds in winter snows. 1815
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Variant 101:
1836
... to what tradition hoar Transmits of days more blest ... 1815
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Variant 102:
1845
Then Summer lengthened out his season bland, And with rock-honey flowed the happy land. Then Summer lingered long; and honey flowed Out of the rocks, the wild bees' safe abode. 1815 1836
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Variant 103:
1836
Continual fountains ... 1815
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Variant 104:
1836
Nor Hunger forced the herds from pastures bare For scanty food the treacherous cliffs to dare. 1815
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Variant 105:
1836
Then the milk-thistle bade those herds demand Three times a day the pail and welcome hand. 1815
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Variant 106:
1836
Thus does the father to his sons relate, On the lone mountain top, their changed estate. 1815
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Variant 107:
1836
But human vices have provoked the rod 1815
In the editions 1815-1832 this and the following line preceded lines 399-400. They took their final position in the edition of 1836.
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Variant 108:
1836
... whose vales and mountains round 1820
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Variant 109:
1836 (Compressing eight lines into six:)
... to awful silence bound. A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide And bottomless, divides the midway tide. Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear The pines that near the coast their summits rear; Of cabins, woods, and lawns a pleasant shore Bounds calm and clear the chaps still and hoar; Loud thro' that midway gulf ascending, sound Unnumber'd streams with hollow roar profound: 1820
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Variant 110:
1836
Mount thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds, And talking voices, and the low of herds, The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell, And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell. 1820
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Variant 111:
1836
Think not, suspended from the cliff on high, He looks below with undelighted eye. 1820
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Variant 112:
This couplet was added in the edition of 1836.
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Variant 113:
1836
—No vulgar joy is his, at even tide Stretch'd on the scented mountain's purple side. 1820
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Variant 114:
1836
While Hope, that ceaseless leans on Pleasure's urn, 1820
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Variant 115:
1836
... by vestal ... 1820
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Variant 116:
1836
... native ... 1820
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Variant 117:
1832
He marches with his flute, his book, and sword; 1820
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Variant 118:
1845
... wonderous ... 1820
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Variant 119:
1840
... glorious ... 1820
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Variant 120:
1836
Uncertain thro' his fierce uncultured soul Like lighted tempests troubled transports roll; To viewless realms his Spirit towers amain, 1820
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Variant 121:
1836
And oft, when pass'd that solemn vision by, 1820
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Variant 122:
1836
Where the dread peal ... 1820
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Variant 123:
1836
—When the Sun bids the gorgeous scene farewell, Alps overlooking Alps their state up-swell; Huge Pikes of Darkness named, of Fear and Storms, Lift, all serene, their still, illumined forms, 1820
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Variant 124:
1845
—Great joy, by horror tam'd, dilates his heart, And the near heavens their own delights impart. 1820
In the editions 1820-1832 this couplet preceded the four lines above quoted:
Fear in his breast with holy love unites, And the near heavens impart their own delights. 1836
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Variant 125:
1836
That hut which from the hills his eyes employs So oft, the central point of all his joys, ... his eye ... 1815 1832
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Variant 126:
1836
And as a swift, by tender cares opprest, Peeps often ere she dart into her nest, So to the untrodden floor, where round him looks His father, helpless as the babe he rocks, Oft he descends to nurse the brother pair, 1820
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Variant 127:
1820
Where, ... 1815
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Variant 128:
1836
Rush down the living rocks with whirlwind sound. 1815
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Variant 129:
1820
Content ... 1815
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Variant 130:
1836
... consecrate ... 1815
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Variant 131:
The following lines were erased in 1836, and in all subsequent editions:
"Here," cried a swain, whose venerable head Bloom'd with the snow-drops of Man's narrow bed, Last night, while by his dying fire, as clos'd The day, in luxury my limbs repos'd, Here Penury oft from misery's mount will guide Ev'n to the summer door his icy tide, And here the avalanche of Death destroy The little cottage of domestic Joy. ... a Swain, upon whose hoary head The "blossoms of the grave" were thinly spread, ... a thoughtful Swain, upon whose head 1793 1820 1827
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Variant 132:
1836
But, ah! the unwilling mind ... 1820
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Variant 133:
1836
The churlish gales, that unremitting blow Cold from necessity's continual snow, 1820
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Variant 134:
1836
To us ... 1820
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Variant 135:
1836
... a never-ceasing ... 1820
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Variant 136:
1836
The father, as his sons of strength become To pay the filial debt, for food to roam, 1820
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Variant 137:
1836
From his bare nest ... 1820
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Variant 138:
1836
His last dread pleasure! watches ... 1820
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Variant 139:
1836
When the poor heart has all its joys resigned, Why does their sad remembrance cleave behind? 1820
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Variant 140:
1836
Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell, Unlocking tender thought's "memorial cell"; Past pleasures are transformed to mortal pains And poison spreads along the listener's veins. While poison ... 1820 1827
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Variant 141:
1836
Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume! 1815
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Variant 142:
1836
Soft .. 1815
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Variant 143:
1836
Soon flies the little joy to man allowed, And grief before him travels like a cloud: 1815
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Variant 144:
1836 (Expanding four lines into six:)
For come Diseases on, and Penury's rage, Labour, and Care, and Pain, and dismal Age, Till, Hope-deserted, long in vain his breath Implores the dreadful untried sleep of Death. 1815
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Variant 145:
1836
A Temple stands; which holds an awful shrine, 1815
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Variant 146:
1836
Pale, dreadful faces round the Shrine appear, 1815
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Variant 147:
1836 After this line the editions of 1815-1832 have the following couplet:
While strives a secret Power to hush the crowd, Pain's wild rebellious burst proclaims her rights aloud
and this is followed by lines 545-6 of the final text.
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Variant 148:
1836 From 1815 to 1832, the following two couplets followed line 546. The first of these was withdrawn in 1836.
Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torment meet, Dire clap of hands, distracted chafe of feet; While loud and dull ascends the weeping cry, Surely in other thoughts contempt may die. 1815
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Variant 149:
1836
—The tall Sun, tiptoe ... 1820
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Variant 150:
1836
At such an hour there are who love to stray, And meet the advancing Pilgrims ere the day Now let us meet the Pilgrims ere the day Close on the remnant of their weary way; 1820 1827
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Variant 151:
1836
For ye are drawing tow'rd that sacred floor, Where the charmed worm of pain shall gnaw no more. While they are drawing toward the sacred floor 1820 1827
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Variant 152:
1827
... for you ... 1820
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Variant 153:
1836
—Now with a tearful kiss each other greet, Nor longer naked be your toil-worn feet, There some with tearful kiss each other greet, And some, with reverence, wash their toil-worn feet. 1820 1827
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Variant 154:
1836
Yes I will see you when you first behold ... ye ... 1820 1827
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Variant 155:
This couplet was added in 1836.
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Variant 156:
1836
... the hands ... 1820
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Variant 157:
1836
Last let us turn to where Chamouny shields, 1820
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Variant 158:
1827
Bosomed in gloomy woods, ... 1820
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Variant 159:
1836
Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fann'd, Here all the Seasons revel hand in hand. 1820
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Variant 160:
1836
—Red stream the cottage-lights; the landscape fades, Erroneous wavering mid the twilight shades. Inserted in the editions 1820 to 1832.
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Variant 161:
1836
Alone ascends that Mountain named of white, Alone ascends that Hill of matchless height, 1820 1827
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Variant 162:
1836
... amid ... 1820
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Variant 163:
1836
Mysterious ... 1820
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Variant 164:
1836
... 'mid ... 1820
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Variant 165:
1836
At such an hour I heaved a pensive sigh, When roared the sullen Arve in anger by, 1820
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Variant 166:
1836
... delicious ... 1820
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Variant 167:
1836
Hard lot!—for no Italian arts are thine To cheat, or chear, to soften, or refine. To soothe or cheer, ... 1820 1827
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Variant 168:
1836
Beloved Freedom! were it mine to stray, With shrill winds roaring ... 1820
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Variant 169:
1836
O'er ... 1820
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Variant 170:
1836 (Compressing four lines into two:)
... o'er Lugano blows; In the wide ranges of many a varied round, Fleet as my passage was, I still have found That where proud courts their blaze of gems display, The lilies of domestic joy decay, That where despotic courts their gems display, 1820 1827
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Variant 171:
1836
In thy dear ... 1820
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Variant 172:
The previous three lines were added in the edition of 1836.
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Variant 173:
1836
The casement's shed more luscious woodbine binds, And to the door a neater pathway winds; 1820
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Variant 174:
1836 (Compressing six lines into two:)
At early morn, the careful housewife, led To cull her dinner from its garden bed, Of weedless herbs a healthier prospect sees, While hum with busier joy her happy bees; In brighter rows her table wealth aspires, And laugh with merrier blaze her evening fires; 1820
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Variant 175:
1836
Her infants' cheeks with fresher roses glow, And wilder graces sport around their brow; 1820
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Variant 176:
1836 (Compressing four lines into two:)
By clearer taper lit, a cleanlier board Receives at supper hour her tempting hoard; The chamber hearth with fresher boughs is spread, And whiter is the hospitable bed. 1820
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Variant 177:
1845 (Compressing four lines into two:)
And oh, fair France! though now along the shade Where erst at will the grey-clad peasant strayed, Gleam war's discordant garments through the trees, And the red banner mocks the froward breeze; ... discordant vestments through the trees, And the red banner fluctuates in the breeze; ... though in the rural shade Where at his will, so late, the grey-clad peasant strayed, Now, clothed in war's discordant garb, he sees The three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze; 1820 1827 1836
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Variant 178:
1836
Though now no more thy maids their voices suit To the low-warbled breath of twilight lute, And, heard the pausing village hum between, No solemn songstress lull the fading green, Though martial songs have banish'd songs of love, And nightingales forsake the village grove, 1820 1827
(Compressing the four lines of 1820 into two.)
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Variant 179:
1836
While, as Night bids the startling uproar die, Sole sound, the Sourd renews his mournful cry! 1820
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Variant 180:
1836
Chasing those long long dreams, ... 1820
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Variant 181:
1845
... fainter pang ... 1820
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Variant 182:
1836
A more majestic tidevi the water roll'd, And glowed the sun-gilt groves in richer gold. 1820
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Variant 183:
1836 (Compressing six lines into four:)
—Though Liberty shall soon, indignant, raise Red on the hills his beacon's comet blaze; Bid from on high his lonely cannon sound, And on ten thousand hearths his shout rebound; His larum-bell from village-tower to tower Swing on the astounded ear its dull undying roar; 1820
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Variant 184:
1836
Yet, yet rejoice, though Pride's perverted ire Rouze Hell's own aid, and wrap thy hills on fire! Lo! from the innocuous flames, a lovely birth, With its own Virtues springs another earth: 1820
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Variant 185:
1836 Lines 646-651 were previously:
Nature, as in her prime, her virgin reign Begins, and Love and Truth compose her train; While, with a pulseless hand, and stedfast gaze, Unbreathing Justice her still beam surveys. 1820
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Variant 186:
1836 (Expanding eight lines into nine:)
Oh give, great God, to Freedom's waves to ride Sublime o'er Conquest, Avarice, and Pride, To sweep where Pleasure decks her guilty bowers And dark Oppression builds her thick-ribbed towers! —Give them, beneath their breast while gladness springs To brood the nations o'er with Nile-like wings; And grant that every sceptred Child of clay, Who cries, presumptuous, "here their tides shall stay," 1820
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Variant 187:
This couplet was added in 1836.
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Variant 188:
1836
Swept in their anger from the affrighted shore, With all his creatures sink—to rise no more! 1820
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Variant 189:
1845
Be the dead load of mortal ills forgot! Be fear and joyful hope alike forgot 1820 1836
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Variant 190:
This couplet was added in 1827.
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Variant 191:
1836
Renewing, when the rosy summits glow At morn, our various journey, sad and slow. With lighter heart our course we may renew, The first whose footsteps print the mountain dew. 1820 1827
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Sub-Variant 1:
A single taper in the vale profound Shifts, while the Alps dilated glimmer round; 1832
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Sub-Variant 2:
And, ... 1832
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Sub-Variant 3:
... above yon ... 1836
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Sub-Variant 4:
By the deep gloom appalled, the Vagrant sighs, 1836
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Sub-Variant 5:
This couplet was cancelled in the edition of 1827.
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Sub-Variant 6:
Or on her fingers ... 1836
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Sub-Variant 7:
This couplet was withdrawn in 1827.
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Sub-Variant 8:
Behind the hill ... 1836
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Sub-Variant 9:
Near and yet nearer, from the piny gulf Howls, by the darkness vexed, the famished wolf, 1836
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Footnote A:
See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836 (p. 1).—Ed.
return to footnote mark
Footnote B:
There is something characteristic in Wordsworth's addressing an intimate travelling companion in this way. S. T. C., or Charles Lamb, would have written, as we do, "My dear Jones"; but Wordsworth addressed his friend as "Dear Sir," and described his sister as "a Young Lady," and as a "Female Friend."—Ed.
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Footnote C:
In a small pocket copy of the
Orlando Furioso
of Ariosto—now in the possession of the poet's grandson, Mr. Gordon Wordsworth—of which the title-page is torn away, the following is written on the first page, "My companion in the Alps with Jones. W. Wordsworth:" also "W. W. to D. W." (He had given it to his sister Dorothy.) On the last page is written, "I carried this Book with me in my pedestrian tour in the Alps with Jones. W. Wordsworth." Dorothy Wordsworth gave this interesting relic to Miss Quillinan, from whose library it passed to that of its present owner.—Ed.
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Footnote D:
By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this edition (1840).
See
p. 79.—Ed.
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cross-reference: return to Footnote B to Guilt and Sorrow
Footnote E:
See Addison's
Cato
, Act 1. Scene i., l. 171:
Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.
Ed.
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Footnote F:
The lyre of Memnon is reported to have emitted melancholy or chearful tones, as it was touched by the sun's evening or morning rays.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote G:
Compare Pope's
Windsor Forest
, ll. 129, 130;
He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye: Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky:
Ed.
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Footnote H:
Alluding to crosses seen on the tops of the spiry rocks of the Chartreuse, which have every appearance of being inaccessible.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote J:
Compare Milton's
Ode on the Nativity
, stanza xx.—Ed.
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Footnote K:
Names of rivers at the Chartreuse.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote L:
Name of one of the valleys of the Chartreuse.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote M:
The river along whose banks you descend in crossing the Alps by the Simplon Pass—-W. W. 1793.
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Footnote N:
Most of the bridges among the Alps are of wood and covered: these bridges have a heavy appearance, and rather injure the effect of the scenery in some places.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote P:
The Catholic religion prevails here; these cells are, as is well known, very common in the Catholic countries, planted, like the Roman tombs, along the roadside.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote Q:
Crosses commemorative of the deaths of travellers by the fall of snow and other accidents very common along this dreadful road.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote R:
The houses in the more retired Swiss valleys are all built of wood.— W. W. 1793.
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Footnote S:
See Burns's
Postscript
to his
Cry and Prayer
:
And when he fa's, His latest draught o' breathin' leaves him In faint huzzas.
Ed.
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Footnote T:
For most of the images in the next sixteen verses I am indebted to M. Raymond's interesting observations annexed to his translation of Coxe's
Tour in Switzerland
.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote U:
The people of this Canton are supposed to be of a more melancholy disposition than the other inhabitants of the Alps: this, if true, may proceed from their living more secluded.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote V:
This picture is from the middle region of the Alps.—W. W. 1815.
Chalets
are summer huts for the Swiss herdsmen.—W. W. 1836.
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Footnote W:
Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind through the trees.—W. W. 1793.
It may be as well to add that, in this Scotch word, the "gh" is pronounced; so that, as used colloquially, the word could never rhyme with "blue."—Ed.
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Footnote X:
See Smollett's
Ode to Leven Water
in
Humphry Clinker
, and compare
The Italian Itinerant and the Swiss Goatherd
, in "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent" in 1820, part ii. 1.—Ed.
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Footnote Y:
Alluding to several battles which the Swiss in very small numbers have gained over their oppressors the house of Austria; and in particular, to one fought at Naeffels near Glarus, where three hundred and thirty men defeated an army of between fifteen and twenty thousand Austrians. Scattered over the valley are to be found eleven stones, with this inscription, 1388, the year the battle was fought, marking out as I was told upon the spot, the several places where the Austrians attempting to make a stand were repulsed anew.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote Z:
As Schreck-Horn, the pike of terror. Wetter-Horn, the pike of storms, etc., etc.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote Aa:
The effect of the famous air called in French Ranz des Vaches upon the Swiss troops.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote Bb:
This shrine is resorted to, from a hope of relief, by multitudes, from every corner of the Catholick world, labouring under mental or bodily afflictions.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnote Cc:
Compare the Stanzas
Composed in one of the Catholic Cantons
, in the "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent" (1820), which refer to Einsiedlen.—Ed.
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Footnote Dd:
Rude fountains built and covered with sheds for the accommodation of the pilgrims, in their ascent of the mountain.—W. W. 1793.
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Footnotes Ee:
Compare Coleridge's
Hymn before Sun-rise, in the Vale of Chamouni
:
And you, ye five wild torrents fiercely glad! ... ... Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? ... O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, ... The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly;
Compare also Shelley's
Mont Blanc
.—Ed.
return to first footnote Ee
cross-reference: return to Footnote Ff of this poem
Footnote Ff:
See
note
on Coleridge's
Hymn before Sun-rise
on previous page.—Ed.
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Footnote Gg:
An insect so called, which emits a short, melancholy cry, heard, at the close of the summer evenings, on the banks of the Loire.—W. W, 1793.
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Footnote Hh:
The duties upon many parts of the French rivers were so exorbitant that the poorer people, deprived of the benefit of water carriage, were obliged to transport their goods by land.—W. W. 1793.
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Sub-Footnote i:
In the edition of 1815, the 28 lines, from "No sad vacuities" to "a wanderer came there," are entitled "Pleasures of the Pedestrian."—Ed.
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Sub-Footnote ii:
See
Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude
, l. 54:
The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale.
Ed.
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Sub-Footnote iii:
In the editions of 1820 to 1832 the four lines beginning "The Grison gypsey," etc., precede those beginning "The mind condemned," etc.—Ed.
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Sub-Footnote iv:
In the edition of 1793 Wordsworth put the following note:
"Red came the river down, and loud, and oft The angry Spirit of the water shriek'd."
(
Home's
Douglas
.)
See Act III. l. 86; or p. 32 in the edition of 1757.—Ed.
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Sub-Footnote v:
This and the following line are only in the editions of 1815 and 1820.—Ed.
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Sub-Footnote vi:
Compare the Sonnet entitled
The Author's Voyage down the Rhine, thirty years ago
, in the "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent' in 1820, and the note appended to it.—Ed.
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Contents