She had a rustic,
woodland
air,
And she was wildly clad: 10
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
And she was wildly clad: 10
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
William Wordsworth
He said, 'It is called 'We are Seven'.
' 'Nay,'
said I, 'that shall take its chance, however'; and he left me in
despair. I have only to add, that in the spring [A] of 1841, I
revisited Goodrich Castle, not having seen that part of the Wye since
I met the little girl there in 1793. It would have given me greater
pleasure to have found in the neighbouring hamlet traces of one who
had interested me so much, but that was impossible, as unfortunately I
did not even know her name. The ruin, from its position and features,
is a most impressive object. I could not but deeply regret that its
solemnity was impaired by a fantastic new Castle set up on a
projection of the same ridge, as if to show how far modern art can go
in surpassing all that could be done by antiquity and nature with
their united graces, remembrances, and associations. I could have
almost wished for power, so much the contrast vexed me, to blow away
Sir----Meyrick's impertinent structure and all the fopperies it
contains. --I. F. ]
* * * * *
The "structure" referred to is Goodrich Court, built in 1828 by Sir
Samuel Rush Meyrick--a collector of ancient armour, and a great
authority on the subject--mainly to receive his extensive private
collection. The armour has been removed from Goodrich to the South
Kensington Museum. 'We are Seven' was placed by Wordsworth among his
"Poems referring to the Period of Childhood. "--Ed.
* * * * *
THE POEM
--A simple Child, [1]
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death? [B]
I met a little cottage Girl: 5
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad: 10
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be? "
"How many? Seven in all," she said, 15
And wondering looked at me.
"And where are they? I pray you tell. "
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea. 20
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother. "
"You say that two at Conway dwell, 25
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye [2] are seven! I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be. "
Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we; 30
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree. "
"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid, 35
Then ye are only five. "
"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side. 40
"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them. [3]
"And often after sun-set, Sir, 45
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.
"The first that died was sister Jane; [4]
In bed she moaning lay, 50
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.
said I, 'that shall take its chance, however'; and he left me in
despair. I have only to add, that in the spring [A] of 1841, I
revisited Goodrich Castle, not having seen that part of the Wye since
I met the little girl there in 1793. It would have given me greater
pleasure to have found in the neighbouring hamlet traces of one who
had interested me so much, but that was impossible, as unfortunately I
did not even know her name. The ruin, from its position and features,
is a most impressive object. I could not but deeply regret that its
solemnity was impaired by a fantastic new Castle set up on a
projection of the same ridge, as if to show how far modern art can go
in surpassing all that could be done by antiquity and nature with
their united graces, remembrances, and associations. I could have
almost wished for power, so much the contrast vexed me, to blow away
Sir----Meyrick's impertinent structure and all the fopperies it
contains. --I. F. ]
* * * * *
The "structure" referred to is Goodrich Court, built in 1828 by Sir
Samuel Rush Meyrick--a collector of ancient armour, and a great
authority on the subject--mainly to receive his extensive private
collection. The armour has been removed from Goodrich to the South
Kensington Museum. 'We are Seven' was placed by Wordsworth among his
"Poems referring to the Period of Childhood. "--Ed.
* * * * *
THE POEM
--A simple Child, [1]
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death? [B]
I met a little cottage Girl: 5
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad: 10
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be? "
"How many? Seven in all," she said, 15
And wondering looked at me.
"And where are they? I pray you tell. "
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea. 20
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother. "
"You say that two at Conway dwell, 25
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye [2] are seven! I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be. "
Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we; 30
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree. "
"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid, 35
Then ye are only five. "
"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side. 40
"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them. [3]
"And often after sun-set, Sir, 45
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.
"The first that died was sister Jane; [4]
In bed she moaning lay, 50
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.