She has a baby on her arm, 5
Or else she were alone:
And underneath the hay-stack warm,
And on the greenwood stone,
She talked and sung the woods among,
And it was in the English tongue.
Or else she were alone:
And underneath the hay-stack warm,
And on the greenwood stone,
She talked and sung the woods among,
And it was in the English tongue.
Wordsworth - 1
1798.
]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Compare the many entries about "gathering sticks" in the
Alfoxden woods, in Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal. --Ed. ]
* * * * *
HER EYES ARE WILD
Composed 1798. --Published 1798.
[Written at Alfoxden. The subject was reported to me by a lady of
Bristol, who had seen the poor creature. --I. F. ]
From 1798 to 1805 this poem was published under the title of 'The Mad
Mother'.
In the editions of 1815 and 1820 it was ranked as one of the "Poems
founded on the Affections. " In the editions of 1827 and 1832, it was
classed as one of the "Poems of the Imagination. " In 1836 and
afterwards, it was replaced among the "Poems founded on the
Affections. "--Ed.
I Her eyes are wild, her head is bare,
The sun has burnt her coal-black hair;
Her eyebrows have a rusty stain,
And she came far from over the main.
She has a baby on her arm, 5
Or else she were alone:
And underneath the hay-stack warm,
And on the greenwood stone,
She talked and sung the woods among,
And it was in the English tongue. 10
II "Sweet babe! they say that I am mad
But nay, my heart is far too glad;
And I am happy when I sing
Full many a sad and doleful thing:
Then, lovely baby, do not fear! 15
I pray thee have no fear of me;
But safe as in a cradle, here
My lovely baby! thou shalt be:
To thee I know too much I owe;
I cannot work thee any woe. 20
III "A fire was once within my brain;
And in my head a dull, dull pain;
And fiendish faces, one, two, three,
Hung at my breast, [1] and pulled at me;
But then there came a sight of joy; 25
It came at once to do me good;
I waked, and saw my little boy,
My little boy of flesh and blood;
Oh joy for me that sight to see!
For he was here, and only he. 30
IV "Suck, little babe, oh suck again!
It cools my blood; it cools my brain;
Thy lips I feel them, baby! they
Draw from my heart the pain away.
Oh! press me with thy little hand; 35
It loosens something at my chest;
About that tight and deadly band
I feel thy little fingers prest.
The breeze I see is in the tree:
It comes to cool my babe and me. 40
V "Oh! love me, love me, little boy!
Thou art thy mother's only joy;
And do not dread the waves below,
When o'er the sea-rock's edge we go;
The high crag cannot work me harm, 45
Nor leaping torrents when they howl;
The babe I carry on my arm,
He saves for me my precious soul;
Then happy lie; for blest am I;
Without me my sweet babe would die.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Compare the many entries about "gathering sticks" in the
Alfoxden woods, in Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal. --Ed. ]
* * * * *
HER EYES ARE WILD
Composed 1798. --Published 1798.
[Written at Alfoxden. The subject was reported to me by a lady of
Bristol, who had seen the poor creature. --I. F. ]
From 1798 to 1805 this poem was published under the title of 'The Mad
Mother'.
In the editions of 1815 and 1820 it was ranked as one of the "Poems
founded on the Affections. " In the editions of 1827 and 1832, it was
classed as one of the "Poems of the Imagination. " In 1836 and
afterwards, it was replaced among the "Poems founded on the
Affections. "--Ed.
I Her eyes are wild, her head is bare,
The sun has burnt her coal-black hair;
Her eyebrows have a rusty stain,
And she came far from over the main.
She has a baby on her arm, 5
Or else she were alone:
And underneath the hay-stack warm,
And on the greenwood stone,
She talked and sung the woods among,
And it was in the English tongue. 10
II "Sweet babe! they say that I am mad
But nay, my heart is far too glad;
And I am happy when I sing
Full many a sad and doleful thing:
Then, lovely baby, do not fear! 15
I pray thee have no fear of me;
But safe as in a cradle, here
My lovely baby! thou shalt be:
To thee I know too much I owe;
I cannot work thee any woe. 20
III "A fire was once within my brain;
And in my head a dull, dull pain;
And fiendish faces, one, two, three,
Hung at my breast, [1] and pulled at me;
But then there came a sight of joy; 25
It came at once to do me good;
I waked, and saw my little boy,
My little boy of flesh and blood;
Oh joy for me that sight to see!
For he was here, and only he. 30
IV "Suck, little babe, oh suck again!
It cools my blood; it cools my brain;
Thy lips I feel them, baby! they
Draw from my heart the pain away.
Oh! press me with thy little hand; 35
It loosens something at my chest;
About that tight and deadly band
I feel thy little fingers prest.
The breeze I see is in the tree:
It comes to cool my babe and me. 40
V "Oh! love me, love me, little boy!
Thou art thy mother's only joy;
And do not dread the waves below,
When o'er the sea-rock's edge we go;
The high crag cannot work me harm, 45
Nor leaping torrents when they howl;
The babe I carry on my arm,
He saves for me my precious soul;
Then happy lie; for blest am I;
Without me my sweet babe would die.
