--[12]
Then, dearest Maiden, move along these shades
In gentleness of heart; with gentle hand 55
Touch--for there is a spirit in the woods.
Then, dearest Maiden, move along these shades
In gentleness of heart; with gentle hand 55
Touch--for there is a spirit in the woods.
William Wordsworth
--Ed.
]
* * * * *
NUTTING
Composed 1799. --Published 1800
[Written in Germany; intended as part of a poem on my own life, but
struck out as not being wanted there. Like most of my schoolfellows I
was an impassioned Nutter. For this pleasure, the Vale of Esthwaite,
abounding in coppice wood, furnished a very wide range. These verses
arose out of the remembrance of feelings I had often had when a boy, and
particularly in the extensive woods that still stretch from the side of
Esthwaite Lake towards Graythwaite, the seat of the ancient family of
Sandys. --I. F. ]
One of the "Poems of the Imagination. "--Ed.
--It seems a day
(I speak of one from many singled out)
One of those heavenly days that [1] cannot die;
When, in the eagerness of boyish hope, [2]
I left our cottage-threshold, [A] sallying forth [3] 5
With a huge wallet o'er my shoulders slung, [4]
A nutting-crook in hand; and turned [5] my steps
Tow'rd some far-distant wood, [6] a Figure quaint,
Tricked out in proud disguise of cast-off weeds
Which for that service had been husbanded, 10
By exhortation of my frugal Dame--[7]
Motley accoutrement, of power to smile
At thorns, and brakes, and brambles,--and, in truth,
More ragged than need was! O'er pathless rocks,
Through beds of matted fern, and tangled thickets, 15
Forcing my way, I came to one dear nook [8]
Unvisited, where not a broken bough
Drooped with its withered leaves, ungracious sign
Of devastation; but the hazels rose
Tall and erect, with tempting clusters [9] hung, 20
A virgin scene! --A little while I stood,
Breathing with such suppression of the heart
As joy delights in; and, with wise restraint
Voluptuous, fearless of a rival, eyed
The banquet;--or beneath the trees I sate 25
Among the flowers, and with the flowers I played;
A temper known to those, who, after long
And weary expectation, have been blest
With sudden happiness beyond all hope.
Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose leaves 30
The violets of five seasons re-appear
And fade, unseen by any human eye;
Where fairy water-breaks do murmur on
For ever; and I saw the sparkling foam,
And--with my cheek on one of those green stones 35
That, fleeced with moss, under [10] the shady trees,
Lay round me, scattered like a flock of sheep--
I heard the murmur and the murmuring sound,
In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay
Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure, 40
The heart luxuriates with indifferent things,
Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones,
And on the vacant air. Then up I rose,
And dragged to earth both branch and bough, with crash
And merciless ravage: and the shady nook 45
Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower,
Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up
Their quiet being: and, unless I now
Confound my present feelings with the past;
Ere from the mutilated bower I turned [11] 50
Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings,
I felt a sense of pain when I beheld
The silent trees, and saw the intruding sky.
--[12]
Then, dearest Maiden, move along these shades
In gentleness of heart; with gentle hand 55
Touch--for there is a spirit in the woods.
The woods round Esthwaite Lake have undergone considerable change since
Wordsworth's school-days at Hawkshead; but hazel coppice is still
abundant to the south and west of the Lake. --Ed.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1836.
. . . which . . . 1800. ]
[Variant 2: This line was added in the edition of 1827. ]
[Variant 3:
1827.
When forth I sallied from our cottage-door, 1800. ]
[Variant 4:
1832.
And with a wallet o'er my shoulder slung, 1800.
* * * * *
NUTTING
Composed 1799. --Published 1800
[Written in Germany; intended as part of a poem on my own life, but
struck out as not being wanted there. Like most of my schoolfellows I
was an impassioned Nutter. For this pleasure, the Vale of Esthwaite,
abounding in coppice wood, furnished a very wide range. These verses
arose out of the remembrance of feelings I had often had when a boy, and
particularly in the extensive woods that still stretch from the side of
Esthwaite Lake towards Graythwaite, the seat of the ancient family of
Sandys. --I. F. ]
One of the "Poems of the Imagination. "--Ed.
--It seems a day
(I speak of one from many singled out)
One of those heavenly days that [1] cannot die;
When, in the eagerness of boyish hope, [2]
I left our cottage-threshold, [A] sallying forth [3] 5
With a huge wallet o'er my shoulders slung, [4]
A nutting-crook in hand; and turned [5] my steps
Tow'rd some far-distant wood, [6] a Figure quaint,
Tricked out in proud disguise of cast-off weeds
Which for that service had been husbanded, 10
By exhortation of my frugal Dame--[7]
Motley accoutrement, of power to smile
At thorns, and brakes, and brambles,--and, in truth,
More ragged than need was! O'er pathless rocks,
Through beds of matted fern, and tangled thickets, 15
Forcing my way, I came to one dear nook [8]
Unvisited, where not a broken bough
Drooped with its withered leaves, ungracious sign
Of devastation; but the hazels rose
Tall and erect, with tempting clusters [9] hung, 20
A virgin scene! --A little while I stood,
Breathing with such suppression of the heart
As joy delights in; and, with wise restraint
Voluptuous, fearless of a rival, eyed
The banquet;--or beneath the trees I sate 25
Among the flowers, and with the flowers I played;
A temper known to those, who, after long
And weary expectation, have been blest
With sudden happiness beyond all hope.
Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose leaves 30
The violets of five seasons re-appear
And fade, unseen by any human eye;
Where fairy water-breaks do murmur on
For ever; and I saw the sparkling foam,
And--with my cheek on one of those green stones 35
That, fleeced with moss, under [10] the shady trees,
Lay round me, scattered like a flock of sheep--
I heard the murmur and the murmuring sound,
In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay
Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure, 40
The heart luxuriates with indifferent things,
Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones,
And on the vacant air. Then up I rose,
And dragged to earth both branch and bough, with crash
And merciless ravage: and the shady nook 45
Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower,
Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up
Their quiet being: and, unless I now
Confound my present feelings with the past;
Ere from the mutilated bower I turned [11] 50
Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings,
I felt a sense of pain when I beheld
The silent trees, and saw the intruding sky.
--[12]
Then, dearest Maiden, move along these shades
In gentleness of heart; with gentle hand 55
Touch--for there is a spirit in the woods.
The woods round Esthwaite Lake have undergone considerable change since
Wordsworth's school-days at Hawkshead; but hazel coppice is still
abundant to the south and west of the Lake. --Ed.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1836.
. . . which . . . 1800. ]
[Variant 2: This line was added in the edition of 1827. ]
[Variant 3:
1827.
When forth I sallied from our cottage-door, 1800. ]
[Variant 4:
1832.
And with a wallet o'er my shoulder slung, 1800.