"
Proud creature was she the next day,
The little orphan, Alice Fell!
Proud creature was she the next day,
The little orphan, Alice Fell!
William Wordsworth
" no other word she spake,
But loud and bitterly she wept,
As if her innocent heart would break; [4]
And down from off her seat [5] she leapt.
"What ails you, child? "--she sobbed "Look here! " 25
I saw it in the wheel entangled,
A weather-beaten rag as e'er
From any garden scare-crow dangled.
There, twisted between nave and spoke,
It hung, nor could at once be freed; 30
But our joint pains unloosed the cloak, [6]
A miserable rag indeed! [7]
"And whither are you going, child,
To-night along these lonesome ways? "
"To Durham," answered she, half wild--35
"Then come with me into the chaise. "
Insensible to all relief
Sat the poor girl, and forth did send
Sob after sob, as if her grief [8]
Could never, never have an end. 40
"My child, in Durham do you dwell? "
She checked herself in her distress,
And said, "My name is Alice Fell;
I'm fatherless and motherless.
"And I to Durham, Sir, belong. " 45
Again, [9] as if the thought would choke
Her very heart, her grief grew strong;
And all was for her tattered cloak!
The chaise drove on; our journey's end
Was nigh; and, sitting by my side, 50
As if she had lost [10] her only friend
She wept, nor would be pacified.
Up to the tavern-door we post;
Of Alice and her grief I told;
And I gave money to the host, 55
To buy a new cloak for the old.
"And let it be of duffil grey,
As warm a cloak as man can sell!
"
Proud creature was she the next day,
The little orphan, Alice Fell! 60
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1845.
When suddenly I seem'd to hear
A moan, a lamentable sound. 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1845.
And soon I heard upon the blast
The voice, and bade . . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 3:
1845.
Said I, alighting on the ground,
"What can it be, this piteous moan? " 1807.
Forthwith alighted on the ground
To learn what voice the piteous moan
Had made, a little girl I found, C. ]
[Variant 4:
1836.
"My Cloak!
But loud and bitterly she wept,
As if her innocent heart would break; [4]
And down from off her seat [5] she leapt.
"What ails you, child? "--she sobbed "Look here! " 25
I saw it in the wheel entangled,
A weather-beaten rag as e'er
From any garden scare-crow dangled.
There, twisted between nave and spoke,
It hung, nor could at once be freed; 30
But our joint pains unloosed the cloak, [6]
A miserable rag indeed! [7]
"And whither are you going, child,
To-night along these lonesome ways? "
"To Durham," answered she, half wild--35
"Then come with me into the chaise. "
Insensible to all relief
Sat the poor girl, and forth did send
Sob after sob, as if her grief [8]
Could never, never have an end. 40
"My child, in Durham do you dwell? "
She checked herself in her distress,
And said, "My name is Alice Fell;
I'm fatherless and motherless.
"And I to Durham, Sir, belong. " 45
Again, [9] as if the thought would choke
Her very heart, her grief grew strong;
And all was for her tattered cloak!
The chaise drove on; our journey's end
Was nigh; and, sitting by my side, 50
As if she had lost [10] her only friend
She wept, nor would be pacified.
Up to the tavern-door we post;
Of Alice and her grief I told;
And I gave money to the host, 55
To buy a new cloak for the old.
"And let it be of duffil grey,
As warm a cloak as man can sell!
"
Proud creature was she the next day,
The little orphan, Alice Fell! 60
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1845.
When suddenly I seem'd to hear
A moan, a lamentable sound. 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1845.
And soon I heard upon the blast
The voice, and bade . . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 3:
1845.
Said I, alighting on the ground,
"What can it be, this piteous moan? " 1807.
Forthwith alighted on the ground
To learn what voice the piteous moan
Had made, a little girl I found, C. ]
[Variant 4:
1836.
"My Cloak!
