Said I,
alighting
on the ground,
"What can it be, this piteous moan?
"What can it be, this piteous moan?
William Wordsworth
" 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! " the word was last and first,
And loud and bitterly she wept,
As if her very heart would burst; 1807.
"My cloak, my cloak" she cried, and spake
No other word, but loudly wept, C. ]
[Variant 5:
1815.
. . . off the Chaise . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 6:
1845.
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! " the word was last and first,
And loud and bitterly she wept,
As if her very heart would burst; 1807.
"My cloak, my cloak" she cried, and spake
No other word, but loudly wept, C. ]
[Variant 5:
1815.
. . . off the Chaise . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 6:
1845.