]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: The indebtedness of the Poet to his Sister is nowhere more
conspicuous than in this Poem.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: The indebtedness of the Poet to his Sister is nowhere more
conspicuous than in this Poem.
Wordsworth - 1
F.
]
Classed by Wordsworth among his "Poems of the Imagination. "--Ed.
* * * * *
--The sky is overcast
With a continuous cloud of texture close,
Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon,
Which through that veil is indistinctly seen,
A dull, contracted circle, yielding light 5
So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls,
Chequering the ground--from rock, plant, tree, or tower.
At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam
Startles the pensive traveller while [1] he treads
His lonesome path, with unobserving eye 10
Bent earthwards; he looks up--the clouds are split
Asunder,--and above his head he sees
The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens.
There, in a black-blue vault she sails along,
Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small 15
And sharp, and bright, [A] along the dark abyss
Drive as she drives: how fast they wheel away,
Yet vanish not! --the wind is in the tree,
But they are silent;--still they roll along
Immeasurably distant; and the vault, 20
Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds,
Still deepens its unfathomable depth.
At length the Vision closes; and the mind,
Not undisturbed by the delight it feels,
Which slowly settles into peaceful calm, 25
Is left to muse upon the solemn scene.
* * * * *
VARIANT ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1827
. . . as . . . 1815.
]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: The indebtedness of the Poet to his Sister is nowhere more
conspicuous than in this Poem. In Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal
the following occurs, under date 25th January 1798:
"Went to Poole's after tea. The sky spread over with one continuous
cloud, whitened by the light of the moon, which, though her dim shape
was seen, did not throw forth so strong a light as to chequer the
earth with shadows. At once the clouds seemed to cleave asunder, and
lift her in the centre of a black-blue vault. She sailed along,
followed by multitudes of stars, small, and bright, and sharp; their
brightness seemed concentrated. "
Ed. ]
* * * * *
WE ARE SEVEN
Composed 1798. --Published 1798.
[Written at Alfoxden in the spring of 1798, under circumstances
somewhat remarkable. The little girl who is the heroine, I met within
the area of Goodrich Castle in the year 1793. Having left the Isle of
Wight, and crost Salisbury Plain, as mentioned in the preface to
'Guilt and Sorrow', I proceeded by Bristol up the Wye, and so on to N.
Wales to the Vale of Clwydd, where I spent my summer under the roof of
the father of my friend, Robert Jones.
In reference to this poem, I will here mention one of the most
remarkable facts in my own poetic history, and that of Mr. Coleridge.
In the spring of the year 1798, he, my sister, and myself, started
from Alfoxden pretty late in the afternoon, with a view to visit
Linton and the Valley of Stones near it; and as our united funds were
very small, we agreed to defray the expense of the tour by writing a
poem, to be sent to the 'New Monthly Magazine', set up by Philips, the
bookseller, and edited by Dr. Aikin.
Classed by Wordsworth among his "Poems of the Imagination. "--Ed.
* * * * *
--The sky is overcast
With a continuous cloud of texture close,
Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon,
Which through that veil is indistinctly seen,
A dull, contracted circle, yielding light 5
So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls,
Chequering the ground--from rock, plant, tree, or tower.
At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam
Startles the pensive traveller while [1] he treads
His lonesome path, with unobserving eye 10
Bent earthwards; he looks up--the clouds are split
Asunder,--and above his head he sees
The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens.
There, in a black-blue vault she sails along,
Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small 15
And sharp, and bright, [A] along the dark abyss
Drive as she drives: how fast they wheel away,
Yet vanish not! --the wind is in the tree,
But they are silent;--still they roll along
Immeasurably distant; and the vault, 20
Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds,
Still deepens its unfathomable depth.
At length the Vision closes; and the mind,
Not undisturbed by the delight it feels,
Which slowly settles into peaceful calm, 25
Is left to muse upon the solemn scene.
* * * * *
VARIANT ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1827
. . . as . . . 1815.
]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: The indebtedness of the Poet to his Sister is nowhere more
conspicuous than in this Poem. In Dorothy Wordsworth's Alfoxden Journal
the following occurs, under date 25th January 1798:
"Went to Poole's after tea. The sky spread over with one continuous
cloud, whitened by the light of the moon, which, though her dim shape
was seen, did not throw forth so strong a light as to chequer the
earth with shadows. At once the clouds seemed to cleave asunder, and
lift her in the centre of a black-blue vault. She sailed along,
followed by multitudes of stars, small, and bright, and sharp; their
brightness seemed concentrated. "
Ed. ]
* * * * *
WE ARE SEVEN
Composed 1798. --Published 1798.
[Written at Alfoxden in the spring of 1798, under circumstances
somewhat remarkable. The little girl who is the heroine, I met within
the area of Goodrich Castle in the year 1793. Having left the Isle of
Wight, and crost Salisbury Plain, as mentioned in the preface to
'Guilt and Sorrow', I proceeded by Bristol up the Wye, and so on to N.
Wales to the Vale of Clwydd, where I spent my summer under the roof of
the father of my friend, Robert Jones.
In reference to this poem, I will here mention one of the most
remarkable facts in my own poetic history, and that of Mr. Coleridge.
In the spring of the year 1798, he, my sister, and myself, started
from Alfoxden pretty late in the afternoon, with a view to visit
Linton and the Valley of Stones near it; and as our united funds were
very small, we agreed to defray the expense of the tour by writing a
poem, to be sent to the 'New Monthly Magazine', set up by Philips, the
bookseller, and edited by Dr. Aikin.
