And giv'st [1] to forms and images a breath
And everlasting motion!
And everlasting motion!
William Wordsworth
"
For obvious reasons, however, I place the fragments originally meant to
be parts of 'The Recluse' together; and, since Wordsworth gave the date
1799 to the others, it would be gratuitous to suppose that he erred in
reference to them all, because we know that his memory failed him in
reference to one of the series. Therefore, although he spent more than
twice as many days in 1798 as in 1799 at Goslar, I set down this group
of poems as belonging to 1799, rather than to the previous year. It will
be seen that, after placing all the poems of this Goslar period in the
year to which they belong, it is possible also to group them according
to their subject matter, without violating chronological order. I
therefore put the fragments, afterwards incorporated in 'The Prelude',
together. These are naturally followed by 'Nutting'--a poem intended for
'The Prelude', but afterwards excluded, as inappropriate. The five poems
referring to "Lucy" are placed in sequence, and the same is done with
the four "Matthew" poems. A small group of four poems follows
appropriately, viz. 'To a Sexton', 'The Danish Boy', 'Lucy Gray', and
'Ruth'; while the Fenwick note almost necessitates our placing the
'Poet's Epitaph' immediately after the Lines 'Written in Germany'; and,
with Wordsworth's life at Goslar, we naturally associate five
things--the cold winter, 'The Prelude', the "Lucy" and the "Matthew"
poems, and the 'Poet's Epitaph'. --Ed.
* * * * *
INFLUENCE OF NATURAL OBJECTS IN CALLING FORTH AND STRENGTHENING THE
IMAGINATION IN BOYHOOD AND EARLY YOUTH
FROM AN UNPUBLISHED POEM
[This extract is reprinted from "THE FRIEND. "[A]]
Composed 1799. --Published 1809
It was included by Wordsworth among the "Poems referring to the Period
of Childhood. "--Ed.
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe!
Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of thought!
And giv'st [1] to forms and images a breath
And everlasting motion! not in vain,
By day or star-light, thus from my first dawn 5
Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me
The passions that build up our human soul;
Not [2] with the mean and vulgar works of Man:
But with high objects, with enduring things,
With life and nature: purifying thus 10
The elements of feeling and of thought,
And sanctifying by such discipline
Both pain and fear,--until we recognise
A grandeur in the beatings of the heart.
Nor was this fellowship vouchsafed to me 15
With stinted kindness. In November days,
When vapours rolling down the valleys [3] made
A lonely scene more lonesome; among woods
At noon; and 'mid the calm of summer nights,
When, by the margin of the trembling lake, 20
Beneath the gloomy hills, homeward I went [4]
In solitude, such intercourse was mine:
Mine was it in the fields [5] both day and night,
And by the waters, all the summer long.
And in the frosty season, when the sun 25
Was set, and, visible for many a mile,
The cottage-windows through the twilight blazed, [6]
I heeded not the summons: happy time
It was indeed for all of us; for me [7]
It was a time of rapture! Clear and loud 30
The village-clock tolled six--I wheeled about,
Proud and exulting like an untired horse
That cares not for his home. [8]--All shod with steel
We hissed along the polished ice, in games
Confederate, imitative of the chase 35
And woodland pleasures,--the resounding horn,
The pack loud-chiming, [9] and the hunted hare.
So through the darkness and the cold we flew,
And not a voice was idle: with the din
Smitten, [10] the precipices rang aloud; 40
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tinkled like iron; while far-distant hills [11]
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
Of melancholy, not unnoticed while the stars,
Eastward, were sparkling clear, and in the west 45
The orange sky of evening died away.
Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay, or sportively
Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng,
To cut across the reflex [12] of a star; 50
Image, that, flying still before me, gleamed
Upon the glassy plain: and oftentimes, [13]
When we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still 55
The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I, reclining back upon my heels,
Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me--even as if the earth had rolled
With visible motion her diurnal round! 60
Behind me did they stretch in solemn train,
Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched
Till all was tranquil as a summer sea. [14]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1809.
That givest . . . 'The Prelude', 1850. ]
[Variant 2:
1815.
For obvious reasons, however, I place the fragments originally meant to
be parts of 'The Recluse' together; and, since Wordsworth gave the date
1799 to the others, it would be gratuitous to suppose that he erred in
reference to them all, because we know that his memory failed him in
reference to one of the series. Therefore, although he spent more than
twice as many days in 1798 as in 1799 at Goslar, I set down this group
of poems as belonging to 1799, rather than to the previous year. It will
be seen that, after placing all the poems of this Goslar period in the
year to which they belong, it is possible also to group them according
to their subject matter, without violating chronological order. I
therefore put the fragments, afterwards incorporated in 'The Prelude',
together. These are naturally followed by 'Nutting'--a poem intended for
'The Prelude', but afterwards excluded, as inappropriate. The five poems
referring to "Lucy" are placed in sequence, and the same is done with
the four "Matthew" poems. A small group of four poems follows
appropriately, viz. 'To a Sexton', 'The Danish Boy', 'Lucy Gray', and
'Ruth'; while the Fenwick note almost necessitates our placing the
'Poet's Epitaph' immediately after the Lines 'Written in Germany'; and,
with Wordsworth's life at Goslar, we naturally associate five
things--the cold winter, 'The Prelude', the "Lucy" and the "Matthew"
poems, and the 'Poet's Epitaph'. --Ed.
* * * * *
INFLUENCE OF NATURAL OBJECTS IN CALLING FORTH AND STRENGTHENING THE
IMAGINATION IN BOYHOOD AND EARLY YOUTH
FROM AN UNPUBLISHED POEM
[This extract is reprinted from "THE FRIEND. "[A]]
Composed 1799. --Published 1809
It was included by Wordsworth among the "Poems referring to the Period
of Childhood. "--Ed.
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe!
Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of thought!
And giv'st [1] to forms and images a breath
And everlasting motion! not in vain,
By day or star-light, thus from my first dawn 5
Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me
The passions that build up our human soul;
Not [2] with the mean and vulgar works of Man:
But with high objects, with enduring things,
With life and nature: purifying thus 10
The elements of feeling and of thought,
And sanctifying by such discipline
Both pain and fear,--until we recognise
A grandeur in the beatings of the heart.
Nor was this fellowship vouchsafed to me 15
With stinted kindness. In November days,
When vapours rolling down the valleys [3] made
A lonely scene more lonesome; among woods
At noon; and 'mid the calm of summer nights,
When, by the margin of the trembling lake, 20
Beneath the gloomy hills, homeward I went [4]
In solitude, such intercourse was mine:
Mine was it in the fields [5] both day and night,
And by the waters, all the summer long.
And in the frosty season, when the sun 25
Was set, and, visible for many a mile,
The cottage-windows through the twilight blazed, [6]
I heeded not the summons: happy time
It was indeed for all of us; for me [7]
It was a time of rapture! Clear and loud 30
The village-clock tolled six--I wheeled about,
Proud and exulting like an untired horse
That cares not for his home. [8]--All shod with steel
We hissed along the polished ice, in games
Confederate, imitative of the chase 35
And woodland pleasures,--the resounding horn,
The pack loud-chiming, [9] and the hunted hare.
So through the darkness and the cold we flew,
And not a voice was idle: with the din
Smitten, [10] the precipices rang aloud; 40
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tinkled like iron; while far-distant hills [11]
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
Of melancholy, not unnoticed while the stars,
Eastward, were sparkling clear, and in the west 45
The orange sky of evening died away.
Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay, or sportively
Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng,
To cut across the reflex [12] of a star; 50
Image, that, flying still before me, gleamed
Upon the glassy plain: and oftentimes, [13]
When we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still 55
The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I, reclining back upon my heels,
Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me--even as if the earth had rolled
With visible motion her diurnal round! 60
Behind me did they stretch in solemn train,
Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched
Till all was tranquil as a summer sea. [14]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1809.
That givest . . . 'The Prelude', 1850. ]
[Variant 2:
1815.
