No More Learning

, of St. John's, Cambridge'.
Extracts from it were published in all the collected editions of the
poems under the general title of "Juvenile Pieces," from 1815 to 1843;
and, in 1845 and 1849, of "Poems written in Youth. " The following
prefatory note to the "Juvenile Pieces" occurs in the editions 1820 to
1832.

"They are reprinted with some unimportant alterations that were
chiefly made very soon after their publication. It would have been
easy to amend them, in many passages, both as to sentiment and
expression, and I have not been altogether able to resist the
temptation: but attempts of this kind are made at the risk of injuring
those characteristic features, which, after all, will be regarded as
the principal recommendation of juvenile poems. "

To this, Wordsworth added, in 1836,

"The above, which was written some time ago, scarcely applies to the
Poem, 'Descriptive Sketches', as it now stands. The corrections,
though numerous, are not, however, such as to prevent its retaining
with propriety a place in the class of 'Juvenile Pieces. '"

In May 1794 Wordsworth wrote to his friend Mathews,

"It was with great reluctance that I sent these two little works into
the world in so imperfect a state. But as I had done nothing at the
University, I thought these little things might show that I _could_ do
something. "

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.