Never shall
ruthless
minister of death 75
'Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath;
No goblets shall, for thee, be crowned with flowers,
No kid with piteous outcry thrill thy bowers;
The mystic shapes that by thy margin rove
A more benignant sacrifice approve-- 80
A mind, that, in a calm angelic mood
Of happy wisdom, meditating good,
Beholds, of all from her high powers required,
Much done, and much designed, and more desired,--
Harmonious thoughts, a soul by truth refined, 85
Entire affection for all human kind.
'Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath;
No goblets shall, for thee, be crowned with flowers,
No kid with piteous outcry thrill thy bowers;
The mystic shapes that by thy margin rove
A more benignant sacrifice approve-- 80
A mind, that, in a calm angelic mood
Of happy wisdom, meditating good,
Beholds, of all from her high powers required,
Much done, and much designed, and more desired,--
Harmonious thoughts, a soul by truth refined, 85
Entire affection for all human kind.
Wordsworth - 1
"
Wordsworth's notes to this poem are printed from the edition of 1793.
Slight variations in the text of these notes in subsequent editions, in
the spelling of proper names, and in punctuation, are not noted. --Ed.
'General Sketch of the Lakes--Author's regret of his Youth which was
passed amongst them--Short description of Noon--Cascade--Noon-tide
Retreat--Precipice and sloping Lights--Face of Nature as the Sun
declines--Mountain-farm, and the
Cock--Slate-quarry--Sunset--Superstition of the Country connected with
that moment--Swans--Female Beggar--Twilight-sounds--Western
Lights--Spirits--Night--Moonlight--Hope--Night-sounds--Conclusion'.
* * * * *
THE POEM
Far from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
Through bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral cove;
Where Derwent rests, and listens to the roar
That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore; [1]
Where peace to Grasmere's lonely island leads, 5
To willowy hedge-rows, and to emerald meads;
Leads to her bridge, rude church, and cottaged grounds,
Her rocky sheepwalks, and her woodland bounds;
Where, undisturbed by winds, Winander [C] sleeps [2]
'Mid clustering isles, and holly-sprinkled steeps; 10
Where twilight glens endear my Esthwaite's shore,
And memory of departed pleasures, more.
Fair scenes, erewhile, I taught, a happy child,
The echoes of your rocks my carols wild:
The spirit sought not then, in cherished sadness, 15
A cloudy substitute for failing gladness. [3]
In youth's keen [4] eye the livelong day was bright,
The sun at morning, and the stars at night,
Alike, when first the bittern's hollow bill
Was heard, or woodcocks [D] roamed the moonlight hill. [5] 20
In thoughtless gaiety I coursed the plain, [6]
And hope itself was all I knew of pain;
For then, the inexperienced heart would beat [7]
At times, while young Content forsook her seat,
And wild Impatience, pointing upward, showed, 25
Through passes yet unreached, a brighter road. [8]
Alas! the idle tale of man is found
Depicted in the dial's moral round;
Hope with reflection blends her social rays [9]
To gild the total tablet of his days; 30
Yet still, the sport of some malignant power,
He knows but from its shade the present hour.
[10]
But why, ungrateful, dwell on idle pain?
To show what pleasures yet to me remain, [11]
Say, will my Friend, with unreluctant ear, [12] 35
The history of a poet's evening hear?
When, in the south, the wan noon, brooding still,
Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill,
And shades of deep-embattled clouds were seen, 40
Spotting the northern cliffs with lights between;
When crowding cattle, checked by rails that make
A fence far stretched into the shallow lake,
Lashed the cool water with their restless tails,
Or from high points of rock looked out for fanning gales;[13] 45
When school-boys stretched their length upon the green;
And round the broad-spread oak, a glimmering scene,
In the rough fern-clad park, the herded deer [14]
Shook the still-twinkling tail and glancing ear;
When horses in the sunburnt intake [E] stood, 50
And vainly eyed below the tempting flood,
Or tracked the passenger, in mute distress,
With forward neck the closing gate to press--[15]
Then, while I wandered where the huddling rill
Brightens with water-breaks the hollow ghyll [F] [16] 55
As by enchantment, an obscure retreat [17]
Opened at once, and stayed my devious feet.
While thick above the rill the branches close,
In rocky basin its wild waves repose,
Inverted shrubs, [G] and moss of gloomy green, 60
Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between;
And its own twilight softens the whole scene, [H]
Save where aloft the subtle sunbeams shine
On withered briars that o'er the crags recline; [18]
Save where, with sparkling foam, a small cascade, 65
Illumines, from within, the leafy shade; [19]
Beyond, along the vista of the brook,
Where antique roots its bustling course [20] o'erlook,
The eye reposes on a secret bridge [J]
Half grey, half shagged with ivy to its ridge; 70
There, bending o'er the stream, the listless swain
Lingers behind his disappearing wain. [21]
--Did Sabine grace adorn my living line,
Blandusia's praise, wild stream, should yield to thine!
Never shall ruthless minister of death 75
'Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath;
No goblets shall, for thee, be crowned with flowers,
No kid with piteous outcry thrill thy bowers;
The mystic shapes that by thy margin rove
A more benignant sacrifice approve-- 80
A mind, that, in a calm angelic mood
Of happy wisdom, meditating good,
Beholds, of all from her high powers required,
Much done, and much designed, and more desired,--
Harmonious thoughts, a soul by truth refined, 85
Entire affection for all human kind.
Dear Brook, [22] farewell! To-morrow's noon again
Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain;
But now the sun has gained his western road,
And eve's mild hour invites my steps abroad. 90
While, near the midway cliff, the silvered kite
In many a whistling circle wheels her flight;
Slant watery lights, from parting clouds, apace
Travel along the precipice's base;
Cheering its naked waste of scattered stone, 95
By lichens grey, and scanty moss, o'ergrown;
Where scarce the foxglove peeps, or [23] thistle's beard;
And restless [24] stone-chat, all day long, is heard.
How pleasant, as the sun declines, to view [25]
The spacious landscape change in form and hue! 100
Here, vanish, as in mist, before a flood
Of bright obscurity, hill, lawn, and wood;
There, objects, by the searching beams betrayed,
Come forth, and here retire in purple shade;
Even the white stems of birch, the cottage white, 105
Soften their glare before the mellow light;
The skiffs, at anchor where with umbrage wide
Yon chestnuts half the latticed boat-house hide,
Shed from their sides, that face the sun's slant beam,
Strong flakes of radiance on the tremulous stream: 110
Raised by yon travelling flock, a dusty cloud
Mounts from the road, and spreads its moving shroud;
The shepherd, all involved in wreaths of fire,
Now shows a shadowy speck, and now is lost entire.
Into a gradual calm the breezes [26] sink, [27] 115
A blue rim borders all the lake's still brink;
There doth the twinkling aspen's foliage sleep,
And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deep: [28]
And now, on every side, the surface breaks
Into blue spots, and slowly lengthening streaks; 120
Here, plots of sparkling water tremble bright
With thousand thousand twinkling points of light;
There, waves that, hardly weltering, die away,
Tip their smooth ridges with a softer ray;
And now the whole wide lake in deep repose 125
Is hushed, and like a burnished mirror glows, [29]
Save where, along the shady western marge,
Coasts, with industrious oar, the charcoal barge. [30]
Their panniered train a group of potters goad,
Winding from side to side up the steep road; 130
The peasant, from yon cliff of fearful edge
Shot, down the headlong path darts with his sledge; [31]
Bright beams the lonely mountain-horse illume
Feeding 'mid purple heath, "green rings," [K] and broom;
While the sharp slope the slackened team confounds, 135
Downward [L] the ponderous timber-wain resounds;
[32] In foamy breaks the rill, with merry song,
Dashed o'er [33] the rough rock, lightly leaps along;
From lonesome chapel at the mountain's feet,
Three humble bells their rustic chime repeat; 140
Sounds from the water-side the hammered boat;
And 'blasted' quarry thunders, heard remote!
Even here, amid the sweep of endless woods,
Blue pomp of lakes, high cliffs and falling floods,
Not undelightful are the simplest charms, 145
Found by the grassy [34] door of mountain-farms.
Sweetly ferocious, [M] round his native walks,
Pride of [35] his sister-wives, the monarch stalks;
Spur-clad his nervous feet, and firm his tread;
A crest of purple tops the warrior's head. [36] 150
Bright sparks his black and rolling [37] eye-ball hurls
Afar, his tail he closes and unfurls;
[38] On tiptoe reared, he strains [39] his clarion throat,
Threatened by faintly-answering farms remote:
Again with his shrill voice the mountain rings, 155
While, flapped with conscious pride, resound his wings! [40]
Where, mixed with graceful birch, the sombrous pine
And yew-tree [41] o'er the silver rocks recline;
I love to mark the quarry's moving trains,
Dwarf panniered steeds, and men, and numerous wains: 160
How busy all [42] the enormous hive within,
While Echo dallies with its [43] various din!
Some (hear you not their chisels' clinking sound? ) [44]
Toil, small as pigmies in the gulf profound;
Some, dim between the lofty [45] cliffs descried, 165
O'erwalk the slender [46] plank from side to side;
These, by the pale-blue rocks that ceaseless ring,
In airy baskets hanging, work and sing. [47]
Just where a cloud above the mountain rears [48]
An [49] edge all flame, the broadening sun appears; 170
A long blue bar its aegis orb divides,
And breaks the spreading of its golden tides;
And now that orb has touched the purple steep
Whose softened image penetrates the deep. [50]
'Cross the calm lake's blue shades the cliffs aspire, 175
With towers and woods, a "prospect all on fire"; [N]
While [51] coves and secret hollows, through a ray
Of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray.
Wordsworth's notes to this poem are printed from the edition of 1793.
Slight variations in the text of these notes in subsequent editions, in
the spelling of proper names, and in punctuation, are not noted. --Ed.
'General Sketch of the Lakes--Author's regret of his Youth which was
passed amongst them--Short description of Noon--Cascade--Noon-tide
Retreat--Precipice and sloping Lights--Face of Nature as the Sun
declines--Mountain-farm, and the
Cock--Slate-quarry--Sunset--Superstition of the Country connected with
that moment--Swans--Female Beggar--Twilight-sounds--Western
Lights--Spirits--Night--Moonlight--Hope--Night-sounds--Conclusion'.
* * * * *
THE POEM
Far from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
Through bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral cove;
Where Derwent rests, and listens to the roar
That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore; [1]
Where peace to Grasmere's lonely island leads, 5
To willowy hedge-rows, and to emerald meads;
Leads to her bridge, rude church, and cottaged grounds,
Her rocky sheepwalks, and her woodland bounds;
Where, undisturbed by winds, Winander [C] sleeps [2]
'Mid clustering isles, and holly-sprinkled steeps; 10
Where twilight glens endear my Esthwaite's shore,
And memory of departed pleasures, more.
Fair scenes, erewhile, I taught, a happy child,
The echoes of your rocks my carols wild:
The spirit sought not then, in cherished sadness, 15
A cloudy substitute for failing gladness. [3]
In youth's keen [4] eye the livelong day was bright,
The sun at morning, and the stars at night,
Alike, when first the bittern's hollow bill
Was heard, or woodcocks [D] roamed the moonlight hill. [5] 20
In thoughtless gaiety I coursed the plain, [6]
And hope itself was all I knew of pain;
For then, the inexperienced heart would beat [7]
At times, while young Content forsook her seat,
And wild Impatience, pointing upward, showed, 25
Through passes yet unreached, a brighter road. [8]
Alas! the idle tale of man is found
Depicted in the dial's moral round;
Hope with reflection blends her social rays [9]
To gild the total tablet of his days; 30
Yet still, the sport of some malignant power,
He knows but from its shade the present hour.
[10]
But why, ungrateful, dwell on idle pain?
To show what pleasures yet to me remain, [11]
Say, will my Friend, with unreluctant ear, [12] 35
The history of a poet's evening hear?
When, in the south, the wan noon, brooding still,
Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill,
And shades of deep-embattled clouds were seen, 40
Spotting the northern cliffs with lights between;
When crowding cattle, checked by rails that make
A fence far stretched into the shallow lake,
Lashed the cool water with their restless tails,
Or from high points of rock looked out for fanning gales;[13] 45
When school-boys stretched their length upon the green;
And round the broad-spread oak, a glimmering scene,
In the rough fern-clad park, the herded deer [14]
Shook the still-twinkling tail and glancing ear;
When horses in the sunburnt intake [E] stood, 50
And vainly eyed below the tempting flood,
Or tracked the passenger, in mute distress,
With forward neck the closing gate to press--[15]
Then, while I wandered where the huddling rill
Brightens with water-breaks the hollow ghyll [F] [16] 55
As by enchantment, an obscure retreat [17]
Opened at once, and stayed my devious feet.
While thick above the rill the branches close,
In rocky basin its wild waves repose,
Inverted shrubs, [G] and moss of gloomy green, 60
Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between;
And its own twilight softens the whole scene, [H]
Save where aloft the subtle sunbeams shine
On withered briars that o'er the crags recline; [18]
Save where, with sparkling foam, a small cascade, 65
Illumines, from within, the leafy shade; [19]
Beyond, along the vista of the brook,
Where antique roots its bustling course [20] o'erlook,
The eye reposes on a secret bridge [J]
Half grey, half shagged with ivy to its ridge; 70
There, bending o'er the stream, the listless swain
Lingers behind his disappearing wain. [21]
--Did Sabine grace adorn my living line,
Blandusia's praise, wild stream, should yield to thine!
Never shall ruthless minister of death 75
'Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath;
No goblets shall, for thee, be crowned with flowers,
No kid with piteous outcry thrill thy bowers;
The mystic shapes that by thy margin rove
A more benignant sacrifice approve-- 80
A mind, that, in a calm angelic mood
Of happy wisdom, meditating good,
Beholds, of all from her high powers required,
Much done, and much designed, and more desired,--
Harmonious thoughts, a soul by truth refined, 85
Entire affection for all human kind.
Dear Brook, [22] farewell! To-morrow's noon again
Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain;
But now the sun has gained his western road,
And eve's mild hour invites my steps abroad. 90
While, near the midway cliff, the silvered kite
In many a whistling circle wheels her flight;
Slant watery lights, from parting clouds, apace
Travel along the precipice's base;
Cheering its naked waste of scattered stone, 95
By lichens grey, and scanty moss, o'ergrown;
Where scarce the foxglove peeps, or [23] thistle's beard;
And restless [24] stone-chat, all day long, is heard.
How pleasant, as the sun declines, to view [25]
The spacious landscape change in form and hue! 100
Here, vanish, as in mist, before a flood
Of bright obscurity, hill, lawn, and wood;
There, objects, by the searching beams betrayed,
Come forth, and here retire in purple shade;
Even the white stems of birch, the cottage white, 105
Soften their glare before the mellow light;
The skiffs, at anchor where with umbrage wide
Yon chestnuts half the latticed boat-house hide,
Shed from their sides, that face the sun's slant beam,
Strong flakes of radiance on the tremulous stream: 110
Raised by yon travelling flock, a dusty cloud
Mounts from the road, and spreads its moving shroud;
The shepherd, all involved in wreaths of fire,
Now shows a shadowy speck, and now is lost entire.
Into a gradual calm the breezes [26] sink, [27] 115
A blue rim borders all the lake's still brink;
There doth the twinkling aspen's foliage sleep,
And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deep: [28]
And now, on every side, the surface breaks
Into blue spots, and slowly lengthening streaks; 120
Here, plots of sparkling water tremble bright
With thousand thousand twinkling points of light;
There, waves that, hardly weltering, die away,
Tip their smooth ridges with a softer ray;
And now the whole wide lake in deep repose 125
Is hushed, and like a burnished mirror glows, [29]
Save where, along the shady western marge,
Coasts, with industrious oar, the charcoal barge. [30]
Their panniered train a group of potters goad,
Winding from side to side up the steep road; 130
The peasant, from yon cliff of fearful edge
Shot, down the headlong path darts with his sledge; [31]
Bright beams the lonely mountain-horse illume
Feeding 'mid purple heath, "green rings," [K] and broom;
While the sharp slope the slackened team confounds, 135
Downward [L] the ponderous timber-wain resounds;
[32] In foamy breaks the rill, with merry song,
Dashed o'er [33] the rough rock, lightly leaps along;
From lonesome chapel at the mountain's feet,
Three humble bells their rustic chime repeat; 140
Sounds from the water-side the hammered boat;
And 'blasted' quarry thunders, heard remote!
Even here, amid the sweep of endless woods,
Blue pomp of lakes, high cliffs and falling floods,
Not undelightful are the simplest charms, 145
Found by the grassy [34] door of mountain-farms.
Sweetly ferocious, [M] round his native walks,
Pride of [35] his sister-wives, the monarch stalks;
Spur-clad his nervous feet, and firm his tread;
A crest of purple tops the warrior's head. [36] 150
Bright sparks his black and rolling [37] eye-ball hurls
Afar, his tail he closes and unfurls;
[38] On tiptoe reared, he strains [39] his clarion throat,
Threatened by faintly-answering farms remote:
Again with his shrill voice the mountain rings, 155
While, flapped with conscious pride, resound his wings! [40]
Where, mixed with graceful birch, the sombrous pine
And yew-tree [41] o'er the silver rocks recline;
I love to mark the quarry's moving trains,
Dwarf panniered steeds, and men, and numerous wains: 160
How busy all [42] the enormous hive within,
While Echo dallies with its [43] various din!
Some (hear you not their chisels' clinking sound? ) [44]
Toil, small as pigmies in the gulf profound;
Some, dim between the lofty [45] cliffs descried, 165
O'erwalk the slender [46] plank from side to side;
These, by the pale-blue rocks that ceaseless ring,
In airy baskets hanging, work and sing. [47]
Just where a cloud above the mountain rears [48]
An [49] edge all flame, the broadening sun appears; 170
A long blue bar its aegis orb divides,
And breaks the spreading of its golden tides;
And now that orb has touched the purple steep
Whose softened image penetrates the deep. [50]
'Cross the calm lake's blue shades the cliffs aspire, 175
With towers and woods, a "prospect all on fire"; [N]
While [51] coves and secret hollows, through a ray
Of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray.
