No More Learning

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[I find the date of this is placed in 1792, in contradiction, by
mistake, to what I have asserted in 'Guilt and Sorrow'. The correct
date is 1793-4. The chief incidents of it, more particularly her
description of her feelings on the Atlantic, are taken from life. --I.
F. ]


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In 1798 there were thirty stanzas in this poem; in 1802, twenty-six; in
1815, fourteen; in 1820, twenty-five. Stanzas I. to XXII. , XXXV. to
XXXVII. , and LI. to LXXIV. occur only in the collected edition of 1842,
vol. vii. (also published as "Poems, chiefly of Early and Late Years"),
and in subsequent editions.
Wordsworth placed 'The Female Vagrant' among
his "Juvenile Pieces" from 1815 to 1832. In 1836, he included it along
with 'Descriptive Sketches' in his Table of Contents; [B] but as he
numbered it IV. in the text--the other poems belonging to the "Juvenile
Pieces" being numbered I. II. and III. --it is clear that he meant it to
remain in that class. The "Poems written in Youth," of the edition of
1845, include many others in addition to the "Juvenile Pieces" of
editions 1815 to 1836. --Ed.


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I

A traveller on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;
Stooping his gait, but not as if to gain
Help from the staff he bore; for mien and air
Were hardy, though his cheek seemed worn with care 5
Both of the time to come, and time long fled:
Down fell in straggling locks his thin grey hair;
A coat he wore of military red
But faded, and stuck o'er with many a patch and shred.


II

While thus he journeyed, step by step led on, 10
He saw and passed a stately inn, full sure
That welcome in such house for him was none.
No board inscribed the needy to allure
Hung there, no bush proclaimed to old and poor
And desolate, "Here you will find a friend! " 15
The pendent grapes glittered above the door;--
On he must pace, perchance 'till night descend,
Where'er the dreary roads their bare white lines extend.


III

The gathering clouds grew red with stormy fire,
In streaks diverging wide and mounting high; 20
That inn he long had passed; the distant spire,
Which oft as he looked back had fixed his eye,
Was lost, though still he looked, in the blank sky.
Perplexed and comfortless he gazed around,
And scarce could any trace of man descry, 25
Save cornfields stretched and stretching without bound;
But where the sower dwelt was nowhere to be found.


IV

No tree was there, no meadow's pleasant green,
No brook to wet his lip or soothe his ear;
Long files of corn-stacks here and there were seen, 30
But not one dwelling-place his heart to cheer.
Some labourer, thought he, may perchance be near;
And so he sent a feeble shout--in vain;
No voice made answer, he could only hear
Winds rustling over plots of unripe grain, 35
Or whistling thro' thin grass along the unfurrowed plain.