I His simple truths did Andrew glean
Beside the babbling rills;
A careful student he had been
Among the woods and hills.
Beside the babbling rills;
A careful student he had been
Among the woods and hills.
William Wordsworth
Above at the top of the rock there is
another spot. It is scarce a bower, a little parlour, not enclosed by
walls, but shaped out for a resting-place by the rocks, and the ground
rising about it. It had a sweet moss carpet. We resolved to go and
plant flowers, in both these places to-morrow. "
This extract is taken from the "Journal" as originally transcribed by me
in 1889. When it appears in this edition it will be greatly
enlarged. --Ed.
* * * * *
THE OAK AND THE BROOM
A PASTORAL
Composed 1800. --Published 1800
[Suggested upon the mountain pathway that leads from Upper Rydal to
Grasmere. The ponderous block of stone, which is mentioned in the poem,
remains, I believe, to this day, a good way up Nab-Scar. Broom grows
under it, and in many places on the side of the precipice. --I. F. ]
One of the "Poems of the Fancy. "--Ed.
I His simple truths did Andrew glean
Beside the babbling rills;
A careful student he had been
Among the woods and hills.
One winter's night, when through the trees 5
The wind was roaring, [1] on his knees
His youngest born did Andrew hold:
And while the rest, a ruddy quire,
Were seated round their blazing fire,
This Tale the Shepherd told. 10
II "I saw a crag, a lofty stone
As ever tempest beat!
Out of its head an Oak had grown,
A Broom out of its feet.
The time was March, a cheerful noon--15
The thaw wind, with the breath of June,
Breathed gently from the warm south-west:
When, in a voice sedate with age,
This Oak, a giant and a sage, [2]
His neighbour thus addressed:--20
III "'Eight weary weeks, through rock and clay,
Along this mountain's edge,
The Frost hath wrought both night and day,
Wedge driving after wedge.
Look up! and think, above your head 25
What trouble, surely, will be bred;
Last night I heard a crash--'tis true,
The splinters took another road--
I see them yonder--what a load
For such a Thing as you! 30
IV "'You are preparing as before
To deck your slender shape;
And yet, just three years back--no more--
You had a strange escape:
Down from yon cliff a fragment broke; 35
It thundered down, with fire and smoke,
And hitherward pursued its way; [3]
This ponderous block was caught by me,
And o'er your head, as you may see,
'Tis hanging to this day! 40
V "'If breeze or bird to this rough steep
Your kind's first seed did bear;
The breeze had better been asleep,
The bird caught in a snare: [4]
For you and your green twigs decoy 45
The little witless shepherd-boy
To come and slumber in your bower;
And, trust me, on some sultry noon,
Both you and he, Heaven knows how soon!
Will perish in one hour. 50
VI "'From me this friendly warning take'--
The Broom began to doze,
And thus, to keep herself awake,
Did gently interpose:
'My thanks for your discourse are due; 55
That more than what you say is true, [5]
I know, and I have known it long;
Frail is the bond by which we hold
Our being, whether young or old, [6]
Wise, foolish, weak, or strong. 60
VII "'Disasters, do the best we can,
Will reach both great and small;
And he is oft the wisest man,
Who is not wise at all.
For me, why should I wish to roam? 65
This spot is my paternal home,
It is my pleasant heritage;
My father many a happy year,
Spread here [7] his careless blossoms, here
Attained a good old age. 70
VIII "'Even such as his may be my lot.
What cause have I to haunt
My heart with terrors?
another spot. It is scarce a bower, a little parlour, not enclosed by
walls, but shaped out for a resting-place by the rocks, and the ground
rising about it. It had a sweet moss carpet. We resolved to go and
plant flowers, in both these places to-morrow. "
This extract is taken from the "Journal" as originally transcribed by me
in 1889. When it appears in this edition it will be greatly
enlarged. --Ed.
* * * * *
THE OAK AND THE BROOM
A PASTORAL
Composed 1800. --Published 1800
[Suggested upon the mountain pathway that leads from Upper Rydal to
Grasmere. The ponderous block of stone, which is mentioned in the poem,
remains, I believe, to this day, a good way up Nab-Scar. Broom grows
under it, and in many places on the side of the precipice. --I. F. ]
One of the "Poems of the Fancy. "--Ed.
I His simple truths did Andrew glean
Beside the babbling rills;
A careful student he had been
Among the woods and hills.
One winter's night, when through the trees 5
The wind was roaring, [1] on his knees
His youngest born did Andrew hold:
And while the rest, a ruddy quire,
Were seated round their blazing fire,
This Tale the Shepherd told. 10
II "I saw a crag, a lofty stone
As ever tempest beat!
Out of its head an Oak had grown,
A Broom out of its feet.
The time was March, a cheerful noon--15
The thaw wind, with the breath of June,
Breathed gently from the warm south-west:
When, in a voice sedate with age,
This Oak, a giant and a sage, [2]
His neighbour thus addressed:--20
III "'Eight weary weeks, through rock and clay,
Along this mountain's edge,
The Frost hath wrought both night and day,
Wedge driving after wedge.
Look up! and think, above your head 25
What trouble, surely, will be bred;
Last night I heard a crash--'tis true,
The splinters took another road--
I see them yonder--what a load
For such a Thing as you! 30
IV "'You are preparing as before
To deck your slender shape;
And yet, just three years back--no more--
You had a strange escape:
Down from yon cliff a fragment broke; 35
It thundered down, with fire and smoke,
And hitherward pursued its way; [3]
This ponderous block was caught by me,
And o'er your head, as you may see,
'Tis hanging to this day! 40
V "'If breeze or bird to this rough steep
Your kind's first seed did bear;
The breeze had better been asleep,
The bird caught in a snare: [4]
For you and your green twigs decoy 45
The little witless shepherd-boy
To come and slumber in your bower;
And, trust me, on some sultry noon,
Both you and he, Heaven knows how soon!
Will perish in one hour. 50
VI "'From me this friendly warning take'--
The Broom began to doze,
And thus, to keep herself awake,
Did gently interpose:
'My thanks for your discourse are due; 55
That more than what you say is true, [5]
I know, and I have known it long;
Frail is the bond by which we hold
Our being, whether young or old, [6]
Wise, foolish, weak, or strong. 60
VII "'Disasters, do the best we can,
Will reach both great and small;
And he is oft the wisest man,
Who is not wise at all.
For me, why should I wish to roam? 65
This spot is my paternal home,
It is my pleasant heritage;
My father many a happy year,
Spread here [7] his careless blossoms, here
Attained a good old age. 70
VIII "'Even such as his may be my lot.
What cause have I to haunt
My heart with terrors?