And
something
1819.
William Wordsworth
1075
Upon a stone the Woman sits
In agony of silent grief--
From his own thoughts did Peter start;
He longs to press her to his heart,
From love that cannot find relief. 1080
But roused, as if through every limb
Had past a sudden shock of dread,
The Mother o'er the threshold flies,
And up the cottage stairs [114] she hies,
And on the pillow lays [115] her burning head. 1085
And Peter turns his steps aside
Into a shade of darksome trees,
Where he sits down, he knows not how,
With his hands pressed against his brow,
His elbows on [116] his tremulous knees. 1090
There, self-involved, does Peter sit
Until no sign of life he makes,
As if his mind were sinking deep
Through years that have been long asleep!
The trance is passed away--he wakes; 1095
He lifts [117] his head--and sees the Ass
Yet standing in the clear moonshine;
"When shall I be as good as thou?
Oh! would, poor beast, that I had now
A heart but half as good as thine! " 1100
But _He_--who deviously hath sought
His Father through the lonesome woods,
Hath sought, proclaiming to the ear
Of night his grief and sorrowful fear--[118]
He comes, escaped from fields and floods;--1105
With weary pace is drawing nigh;
He sees the Ass--and nothing living
Had ever such a fit of joy
As hath [119] this little orphan Boy,
For he has no misgiving! 1110
Forth to [120] the gentle Ass he springs,
And up about his neck he climbs;
In loving words he talks to him,
He kisses, kisses face and limb,--
He kisses him a thousand times! 1115
This Peter sees, while in the shade
He stood beside the cottage-door;
And Peter Bell, the ruffian wild,
Sobs loud, he sobs even like a child,
"Oh! God, I can endure no more! " 1120
--Here ends my Tale: for in a trice
Arrived a neighbour with his horse;
Peter went forth with him straightway;
And, with due care, ere break of day,
Together they brought back the Corse. 1125
And many years did this poor Ass,
Whom once it was my luck to see
Cropping the shrubs of Leming-Lane,
Help by his labour to maintain
The Widow and her family. 1130
And Peter Bell, who, till that night,
Had been the wildest of his clan,
Forsook his crimes, renounced [121] his folly,
And, after ten months' melancholy,
Became a good and honest man. [K] 1135
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1: 1827.
And something 1819. ]
[Variant 2:
1849.
Whose shape is like 1819.
For shape just like 1845. ]
[Variant 3:
1845.
The noise of danger fills 1819. ]
[Variant 4:
1827.
Meanwhile I from the helm admire 1819.
. . . I soberly admire C. ]
[Variant 5:
1827.
Or deep into the heavens 1819.
Or into massy clouds 1820. ]
[Variant 6:
1820.
Upon a stone the Woman sits
In agony of silent grief--
From his own thoughts did Peter start;
He longs to press her to his heart,
From love that cannot find relief. 1080
But roused, as if through every limb
Had past a sudden shock of dread,
The Mother o'er the threshold flies,
And up the cottage stairs [114] she hies,
And on the pillow lays [115] her burning head. 1085
And Peter turns his steps aside
Into a shade of darksome trees,
Where he sits down, he knows not how,
With his hands pressed against his brow,
His elbows on [116] his tremulous knees. 1090
There, self-involved, does Peter sit
Until no sign of life he makes,
As if his mind were sinking deep
Through years that have been long asleep!
The trance is passed away--he wakes; 1095
He lifts [117] his head--and sees the Ass
Yet standing in the clear moonshine;
"When shall I be as good as thou?
Oh! would, poor beast, that I had now
A heart but half as good as thine! " 1100
But _He_--who deviously hath sought
His Father through the lonesome woods,
Hath sought, proclaiming to the ear
Of night his grief and sorrowful fear--[118]
He comes, escaped from fields and floods;--1105
With weary pace is drawing nigh;
He sees the Ass--and nothing living
Had ever such a fit of joy
As hath [119] this little orphan Boy,
For he has no misgiving! 1110
Forth to [120] the gentle Ass he springs,
And up about his neck he climbs;
In loving words he talks to him,
He kisses, kisses face and limb,--
He kisses him a thousand times! 1115
This Peter sees, while in the shade
He stood beside the cottage-door;
And Peter Bell, the ruffian wild,
Sobs loud, he sobs even like a child,
"Oh! God, I can endure no more! " 1120
--Here ends my Tale: for in a trice
Arrived a neighbour with his horse;
Peter went forth with him straightway;
And, with due care, ere break of day,
Together they brought back the Corse. 1125
And many years did this poor Ass,
Whom once it was my luck to see
Cropping the shrubs of Leming-Lane,
Help by his labour to maintain
The Widow and her family. 1130
And Peter Bell, who, till that night,
Had been the wildest of his clan,
Forsook his crimes, renounced [121] his folly,
And, after ten months' melancholy,
Became a good and honest man. [K] 1135
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1: 1827.
And something 1819. ]
[Variant 2:
1849.
Whose shape is like 1819.
For shape just like 1845. ]
[Variant 3:
1845.
The noise of danger fills 1819. ]
[Variant 4:
1827.
Meanwhile I from the helm admire 1819.
. . . I soberly admire C. ]
[Variant 5:
1827.
Or deep into the heavens 1819.
Or into massy clouds 1820. ]
[Variant 6:
1820.
