Part 3 — 1827
Reading edition
The poems composed in 1827 were for the most part sonnets. But several of those first published in 1827 evidently belong to an earlier year, the date of which it is impossible to discover.—Ed.
ON SEEING A NEEDLECASE IN THE FORM OF A HARP
THE WORK OF E. M. S.[437]
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Poems of the Fancy."—Ed.
Frowns are on every Muse's face, Reproaches from their lips are sent, That mimicry should thus disgrace The noble Instrument. A very Harp in all but size! 5 Needles for strings in apt gradation! Minerva's self would stigmatize The unclassic profanation. Even her own needle that subdued Arachne's rival spirit,[438] 10 Though wrought in Vulcan's happiest mood, Such honour[439] could not merit. And this, too, from the Laureate's Child, A living lord of melody! How will her Sire be reconciled 15 To the refined indignity? I spake, when whispered a low voice, "Bard! moderate your ire; Spirits of all degrees rejoice In presence of the lyre. 20 The Minstrels of Pygmean bands,[440] Dwarf Genii, moonlight-loving Fays, Have shells to fit their tiny hands And suit their slender lays. Some, still more delicate of ear, 25 Have lutes (believe my words) Whose framework is of gossamer, While sunbeams are the chords. Gay Sylphs[B] this miniature will court, Made vocal by their brushing wings, 30 And sullen Gnomes[441] will learn to sport Around its polished strings; Whence strains to love-sick maiden dear, While in her lonely bower she tries To cheat the thought she cannot cheer, 35 By fanciful embroideries. Trust, angry Bard! a knowing Sprite, Nor think the Harp her lot deplores; Though 'mid the stars the Lyre shine[442] bright, Love stoops as fondly as he soars."[443] 40
FOOTNOTES:
MISCELLANEOUS SONNETS
DEDICATION
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
[In the cottage, Town-end, Grasmere, one afternoon in 1801, my Sister read to me the Sonnets of Milton. I had long been well acquainted with them, but I was particularly struck on that occasion by the dignified simplicity and majestic harmony that runs through most of them,—in character so totally different from the Italian, and still more so from Shakespeare's fine Sonnets. I took fire, if I may be allowed to say so, and produced three Sonnets the same afternoon, the first I ever wrote except an irregular one at school. Of these three, the only one I distinctly remember is "I grieved for Buonaparté." One was never written down: the third, which was, I believe, preserved, I cannot particularise.—I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
TO ——[444]
Happy the feeling from the bosom thrown In perfect shape (whose beauty Time shall spare Though a breath made it) like a bubble blown For summer pastime into wanton air; Happy the thought best likened to a stone 5 Of the sea-beach, when, polished with nice care, Veins it discovers exquisite and rare, Which for the loss of that moist gleam atone That tempted first to gather it. That here, O chief of Friends![445] such feelings I present, 10 To thy regard, with thoughts so fortunate, Were a vain notion; but the hope is dear,[446] That thou, if not with partial joy elate, Wilt smile upon this gift with[447] more than mild content![448]
FOOTNOTES:
"HER ONLY PILOT THE SOFT BREEZE, THE BOAT"
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
Her only pilot the soft breeze, the boat Lingers, but Fancy is well satisfied; With keen-eyed Hope, with Memory, at her side, And the glad Muse at liberty to note All that to each is precious, as we float 5 Gently along; regardless who shall chide If the heavens smile, and leave us free to glide, Happy Associates breathing air remote From trivial cares. But, Fancy and the Muse, Why have I crowded this small bark with you 10 And others of your kind, ideal crew! While here sits One whose brightness owes its hues To flesh and blood; no Goddess from above, No fleeting Spirit, but my own true Love?[449]
FOOTNOTES:
"WHY, MINSTREL, THESE UNTUNEFUL MURMURINGS"
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
"Why, Minstrel, these untuneful murmurings— Dull, flagging notes that with each other jar?" "Think, gentle Lady, of a Harp so far From its own country, and forgive the strings." A simple answer! but even so forth springs, 5 From the Castalian fountain of the heart,[450] The Poetry of Life, and all that Art Divine of words quickening insensate things. From the submissive necks of guiltless men Stretched on the block, the glittering axe recoils; 10 Sun, moon, and stars, all struggle in the toils Of mortal sympathy; what wonder then That[451] the poor Harp distempered music yields To its sad Lord, far from his native fields?
FOOTNOTES:
TO S. H.[452]
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
Excuse is needless when with love sincere Of occupation, not by fashion led, Thou turn'st the Wheel that slept with dust o'erspread; My nerves from no such murmur shrink,—tho' near, Soft as the Dorhawk's to a distant ear, 5 When twilight shades darken[453] the mountain's head.[454] Even She who toils to spin[455] our vital thread[456] Might smile on work, O Lady, once so dear[457] To household virtues. Venerable Art, Torn from the Poor![458] yet shall kind Heaven protect 10 Its own; though Rulers, with undue respect, Trusting to crowded factory and mart[459] And[460] proud discoveries of the intellect, Heed not[461] the pillage of man's ancient heart.
FOOTNOTES:
DECAY OF PIETY
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
[Attendance at church on prayer-days, Wednesdays and Fridays and Holidays, received a shock at the Revolution. It is now, however, happily reviving. The ancient people described in this Sonnet were among the last of that pious class. May we hope that the practice, now in some degree renewed, will continue to spread.—I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
Oft have I seen, ere Time had ploughed my cheek, Matrons and Sires—who, punctual to the call Of their loved Church, on fast or festival Through the long year the House of Prayer would seek: By Christmas snows, by visitation bleak 5 Of Easter winds, unscared, from hut or hall They came to lowly bench or sculptured stall, But with one fervour of devotion meek. I see the places where they once were known, And ask, surrounded even by kneeling crowds, 10 Is ancient Piety for ever flown? Alas! even then they seemed like fleecy clouds That, struggling through the western sky, have won Their pensive light from a departed sun!
"SCORN NOT THE SONNET; CRITIC, YOU HAVE FROWNED"
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
[Composed, almost extempore, in a short walk on the western side of Rydal Lake.—I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakspeare unlocked his heart;[462] the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound;[463] A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound;[464] 5 With it Camöens soothed[465] an exile's grief;[466] The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante[467] crowned His visionary brow: a glow-worm lamp, It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faery-land 10 To struggle through dark ways;[468] and, when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The Thing became a trumpet;[469] whence he blew Soul-animating strains—alas, too few![470]
FOOTNOTES:
"FAIR PRIME OF LIFE! WERE IT ENOUGH TO GILD"
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
[Suggested by observation of the way in which a young friend, whom I do not choose to name, misspent his time and misapplied his talents. He took afterwards a better course, and became a useful member of society, respected, I believe, wherever he has been known.—I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
Fair Prime of life! were it enough to gild With ready sunbeams every straggling shower; And, if an unexpected cloud should lower, Swiftly thereon a rainbow arch to build For Fancy's errands,—then, from fields half-tilled 5 Gathering green weeds to mix with poppy flower, Thee might thy Minions crown, and chant thy power, Unpitied by the wise, all censure stilled. Ah! show that worthier honours are thy due; Fair Prime of life! arouse the deeper heart; 10 Confirm the Spirit glorying to pursue Some path of steep ascent and lofty aim; And, if there be a joy that slights the claim Of grateful memory, bid that joy depart.
RETIREMENT
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
If the whole weight of what we think and feel, Save only far as thought and feeling blend With action, were as nothing, patriot Friend! From thy remonstrance would be no appeal; But to promote and fortify the weal 5 Of our own Being is her paramount end; A truth which they alone shall comprehend Who shun the mischief which they cannot heal. Peace in these feverish times is sovereign bliss: Here, with no thirst but what the stream can slake, 10 And startled only by the rustling brake, Cool air I breathe; while the unincumbered Mind, By some weak aims at services assigned To gentle Natures, thanks not Heaven amiss.
"THERE IS A PLEASURE IN POETIC PAINS"
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
There is a pleasure in poetic pains Which only Poets know;[471]—'twas rightly said; Whom could the Muses else allure to tread Their smoothest paths, to wear their lightest chains? When happiest Fancy has inspired the strains, 5 How oft the malice of one luckless word Pursues the Enthusiast to the social board, Haunts him belated on the silent plains! Yet he repines not, if his thought stand clear, At last, of hindrance and obscurity, 10 Fresh as the star that crowns the brow of morn; Bright, speckless, as a softly-moulded tear The moment it has left the virgin's eye, Or rain-drop lingering on the pointed thorn.
FOOTNOTES:
RECOLLECTION OF THE PORTRAIT OF KING HENRY EIGHTH, TRINITY LODGE, CAMBRIDGE[472]
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
The imperial Stature, the colossal stride, Are yet before me; yet do I behold The broad full visage, chest of amplest mould, The vestments 'broidered with barbaric pride: And lo! a poniard, at the Monarch's side, 5 Hangs ready to be grasped in sympathy With the keen threatenings of that fulgent eye, Below the white-rimmed bonnet, far-descried. Who trembles now at thy capricious mood? 'Mid those surrounding Worthies, haughty King, 10 We rather think, with grateful mind sedate, How Providence educeth, from the spring Of lawless will, unlooked-for streams of good, Which neither force shall check nor time abate!
FOOTNOTES:
"WHEN PHILOCTETES IN THE LEMNIAN ISLE"
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
When Philoctetes in the Lemnian isle[473] Like a Form sculptured on a monument Lay couched; on him or his dread bow unbent[474] Some wild Bird oft might settle and beguile The rigid features of a transient smile, 5 Disperse the tear, or to the sigh give vent, Slackening the pains of ruthless banishment From his lov'd home, and from heroic toil. And trust[475] that spiritual Creatures round us move, Griefs to allay which[476] Reason cannot heal; 10 Yea, veriest[477] reptiles have sufficed to prove To fettered wretchedness, that no Bastile[478] Is deep enough to exclude the light of love, Though man for brother man has ceased to feel.
FOOTNOTES:
"WHILE ANNA'S PEERS AND EARLY PLAYMATES TREAD"
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
[This is taken from the account given by Miss Jewsbu̇ry of the pleasure she derived, when long confined to her bed by sickness, from the inanimate object on which this sonnet turns.—I.F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
While Anna's peers[479] and early playmates tread, In freedom, mountain-turf and river's marge;[480] Or float with music in the festal barge; Rein the proud steed, or through the dance are led; Her doom it is[481] to press a weary bed— 5 Till oft her guardian Angel, to some charge More urgent called, will stretch his wings at large, And friends too rarely prop the languid head. Yet, helped by Genius—untired comforter,[482] The presence even of a stuffed Owl for her 10 Can cheat the time; sending her fancy out To ivied castles and to moonlight skies, Though he can neither stir a plume, nor shout; Nor veil, with restless film, his staring eyes.
FOOTNOTES:
TO THE CUCKOO
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
Not the whole warbling grove in concert heard When sunshine follows shower, the breast can thrill Like the first summons, Cuckoo! of thy bill, With its twin notes inseparably paired.[483] The captive 'mid damp vaults unsunned, unaired, 5 Measuring the periods of his lonely doom, That cry can reach; and to the sick man's room Sends gladness, by no languid smile declared. The lordly eagle-race through hostile search May perish; time may come when never more 10 The wilderness shall hear the lion roar; But, long as cock shall crow from household perch To rouse the dawn, soft gales shall speed thy wing, And thy erratic voice[484] be faithful to the Spring!
FOOTNOTES:
THE INFANT M—— M——
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
[The infant was Mary Monkhouse,[485] the only daughter of my friend and cousin, Thomas Monkhouse.—I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
Unquiet Childhood here by special grace Forgets her nature, opening like a flower That neither feeds nor wastes its vital power In painful struggles. Months each other chase, And nought untunes that Infant's voice; no trace[486] 5 Of fretful temper sullies her pure cheek;[487] Prompt, lively, self-sufficing, yet so meek That one enrapt with gazing on her face (Which even the placid innocence of death Could scarcely make more placid, heaven more bright) Might learn to picture, for the eye of faith, 11 The Virgin, as she shone with kindred light; A nursling couched upon her mother's knee, Beneath some shady palm of Galilee.
FOOTNOTES:
TO ROTHA Q——
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
[Rotha, the daughter of my son-in-law, Mr. Quillinan.—I. F.]
Rotha, my Spiritual Child! this head was grey When at the sacred font for thee I stood; Pledged till thou reach the verge of womanhood, And shalt become thy own sufficient stay: Too late, I feel, sweet Orphan, was the day 5 For stedfast hope the contract to fulfil; Yet shall my blessing hover o'er thee still, Embodied in the music of this Lay, Breathed forth beside the peaceful mountain Stream[488] Whose murmur soothed thy languid Mother's ear 10 After her throes, this Stream of name more dear Since thou dost bear it,—a memorial theme[489] For others; for thy future self, a spell To summon fancies out of Time's dark cell.[490]
FOOTNOTES:
TO ——, IN HER SEVENTIETH YEAR[491]
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
[Lady Fitzgerald, as described to me by Lady Beaumont.—I.F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
Such age how beautiful! O Lady bright, Whose mortal lineaments seem all refined By favouring Nature and a saintly Mind To something purer and more exquisite Than flesh and blood; whene'er thou meet'st my sight, When I behold thy blanched unwithered cheek, 6 Thy temples fringed with locks of gleaming white, And head that droops because the soul is meek, Thee with the welcome Snowdrop I compare; That child of winter, prompting thoughts that climb 10 From desolation toward[492] the genial prime; Or with the Moon conquering earth's misty air, And filling more and more with crystal light As pensive Evening deepens into night.[493]
FOOTNOTES:
"IN MY MIND'S EYE A TEMPLE, LIKE A CLOUD"
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
In my mind's eye a Temple, like a cloud Slowly surmounting some invidious hill, Rose out of darkness: the bright Work stood still; And might of its own beauty have been proud, But it was fashioned and to God was vowed 5 By Virtues that diffused, in every part, Spirit divine through forms of human art: Faith had her arch—her arch, when winds blow loud, Into the consciousness of safety thrilled; And Love her towers of dread foundation laid 10 Under the grave of things; Hope had her spire Star-high, and pointing still to something higher; Trembling I gazed, but heard a voice—it said, "Hell-gates are powerless Phantoms when we build."
"GO BACK TO ANTIQUE AGES, IF THINE EYES"
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."—Ed.
Go back to antique ages, if thine eyes The genuine mien and character would trace Of the rash Spirit that still holds her place, Prompting the world's audacious vanities! Go back, and see[494] the Tower of Babel rise; 5 The pyramid extend its monstrous base, For some Aspirant of our short-lived race, Anxious an aery name to immortalize. There, too, ere wiles and politic dispute Gave specious colouring to aim and act, 10 See the first mighty Hunter leave the brute— To chase mankind, with men in armies packed For his field-pastime high and absolute, While, to dislodge his game, cities are sacked!
FOOTNOTES:
"IF THOU INDEED DERIVE THY LIGHT FROM HEAVEN"
Published 1827
[These verses were written some time after we had become residents at Rydal Mount, and I will take occasion from them to observe upon the beauty of that situation, as being backed and flanked by lofty fells, which bring the heavenly bodies to touch, as it were, the earth upon the mountain-tops, while the prospect in front lies open to a length of level valley, the extended lake, and a terminating ridge of low hills; so that it gives an opportunity to the inhabitants of the place of noticing the stars in both the positions here alluded to, namely, on the tops of the mountains, and as winter-lamps at a distance among the leafless trees.—I. F.]
If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven, Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light, Shine, Poet![495] in thy place, and be content:— The stars pre-eminent in magnitude, And they that from the zenith dart their beams,[496] 5 (Visible though they[497] be to half the earth, Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness) Are[498] yet of no diviner origin, No purer essence, than the one that burns, Like an untended watch-fire, on the ridge 10 Of some dark mountain; or than those which seem Humbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps, Among the branches of the leafless trees; All are the undying offspring of one Sire: Then, to the measure of the light vouchsafed, 15 Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content.[499]
These lines, first published in 1827, found a place in the edition of that year, amongst the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection." In the edition of 1845 they appeared as a Preface to the entire volume of Poems.—Ed.
FOOTNOTES:
IN THE WOODS OF RYDAL[500]
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
Wild Redbreast![501] hadst them at Jemima's lip[502] Pecked, as at mine, thus boldly, Love might say[503] A half-blown rose had tempted thee to sip Its glistening dews: but hallowed is the clay Which the Muse warms; and I, whose head is grey,[504] 5 Am not unworthy of thy fellowship; Nor could I let one thought—one motion—slip That might thy sylvan confidence betray. For are we not all His without whose care Vouchsafed no sparrow falleth to the ground?[505] 10 Who gives his Angels wings to speed through air, And rolls the planets through the blue profound; Then peck or perch, fond Flutterer! nor forbear To trust a Poet in still musings bound.[506]
FOOTNOTES:
CONCLUSION TO ——[507]
Composed 1827.—Published 1827
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
If these brief Records, by the Muses' art Produced as lonely Nature or the strife That animates the scenes of public life[508] Inspired, may in thy leisure claim a part; And if these Transcripts of the private heart 5 Have gained a sanction from thy falling tears; Then I repent not. But my soul hath fears Breathed from eternity; for as a dart Cleaves the blank air, Life flies: now every day Is but a glimmering spoke in the swift wheel 10 Of the revolving week. Away, away, All fitful cares, all transitory zeal! So timely Grace the immortal wing may heal, And honour rest upon the senseless clay.