I was thy
neighbour
once, thou rugged Pile!
William Wordsworth
]
[Variant 3:
1837
--A few appear by morning light,
Preserved upon the tall mast's height:
Oft in my Soul I see that sight; 1815. ]
[Variant 4: In the edition of 1827 and subsequent ones, Wordsworth here
inserted a footnote, asking the reader to refer to No. VI. of the "Poems
on the Naming of Places," beginning "When, to the attractions of the
busy world," p. 66. His note of 1837 refers also to the poem which there
precedes the present one, viz. the 'Elegiac Stanzas. '--Ed. ]
* * * * *
ELEGIAC STANZAS [A]
SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE OF PEELE CASTLE, IN A STORM,
PAINTED BY SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT
Composed 1805. --Published 1807
[Sir George Beaumont painted two pictures of this subject, one of which
he gave to Mrs. Wordsworth, saying she ought to have it; but Lady
Beaumont interfered, and after Sir George's death she gave it to Sir
Uvedale Price, at whose house at Foxley I have seen it. --I. F. ]
Placed by Wordsworth among his "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces. "--Ed.
I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!
Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee:
I saw thee every day; and all the while
Thy Form was sleeping on a glassy sea.
So pure the sky, so quiet was the air! 5
So like, so very like, was day to day!
Whene'er I looked, thy Image still was there;
It trembled, but it never passed away.
How perfect was the calm! it seemed no sleep;
No mood, which season takes away, or brings: 10
I could have fancied that the mighty Deep
Was even the gentlest of all gentle Things.
Ah! THEN, if mine had been the Painter's hand,
To express what then I saw; and add the gleam,
The light that never was, on sea or land, 15
The consecration, and the Poet's dream; [1]
I would have planted thee, thou hoary Pile
Amid a world how different from this!
Beside a sea that could not cease to smile;
On tranquil land, beneath a sky of bliss. 20
Thou shouldst have seemed a treasure-house divine [2]
Of peaceful years; a chronicle of heaven;--
Of all the sunbeams that did ever shine
The very sweetest had to thee been given.
A Picture had it been of lasting ease, 25
Elysian quiet, without toil or strife;
No motion but the moving tide, a breeze,
Or merely silent Nature's breathing life.
Such, in the fond illusion [3] of my heart,
Such Picture would I at that time have made: 30
And seen the soul of truth in every part,
A stedfast peace that might not be betrayed. [4]
So once it would have been,--'tis so no more;
I have submitted to a new control:
A power is gone, which nothing can restore; 35
A deep distress hath humanised my Soul.
Not for a moment could I now behold
A smiling sea, and be what I have been:
The feeling of my loss will ne'er be old;
This, which I know, I speak with mind serene. 40
Then, Beaumont, Friend!
[Variant 3:
1837
--A few appear by morning light,
Preserved upon the tall mast's height:
Oft in my Soul I see that sight; 1815. ]
[Variant 4: In the edition of 1827 and subsequent ones, Wordsworth here
inserted a footnote, asking the reader to refer to No. VI. of the "Poems
on the Naming of Places," beginning "When, to the attractions of the
busy world," p. 66. His note of 1837 refers also to the poem which there
precedes the present one, viz. the 'Elegiac Stanzas. '--Ed. ]
* * * * *
ELEGIAC STANZAS [A]
SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE OF PEELE CASTLE, IN A STORM,
PAINTED BY SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT
Composed 1805. --Published 1807
[Sir George Beaumont painted two pictures of this subject, one of which
he gave to Mrs. Wordsworth, saying she ought to have it; but Lady
Beaumont interfered, and after Sir George's death she gave it to Sir
Uvedale Price, at whose house at Foxley I have seen it. --I. F. ]
Placed by Wordsworth among his "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces. "--Ed.
I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!
Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee:
I saw thee every day; and all the while
Thy Form was sleeping on a glassy sea.
So pure the sky, so quiet was the air! 5
So like, so very like, was day to day!
Whene'er I looked, thy Image still was there;
It trembled, but it never passed away.
How perfect was the calm! it seemed no sleep;
No mood, which season takes away, or brings: 10
I could have fancied that the mighty Deep
Was even the gentlest of all gentle Things.
Ah! THEN, if mine had been the Painter's hand,
To express what then I saw; and add the gleam,
The light that never was, on sea or land, 15
The consecration, and the Poet's dream; [1]
I would have planted thee, thou hoary Pile
Amid a world how different from this!
Beside a sea that could not cease to smile;
On tranquil land, beneath a sky of bliss. 20
Thou shouldst have seemed a treasure-house divine [2]
Of peaceful years; a chronicle of heaven;--
Of all the sunbeams that did ever shine
The very sweetest had to thee been given.
A Picture had it been of lasting ease, 25
Elysian quiet, without toil or strife;
No motion but the moving tide, a breeze,
Or merely silent Nature's breathing life.
Such, in the fond illusion [3] of my heart,
Such Picture would I at that time have made: 30
And seen the soul of truth in every part,
A stedfast peace that might not be betrayed. [4]
So once it would have been,--'tis so no more;
I have submitted to a new control:
A power is gone, which nothing can restore; 35
A deep distress hath humanised my Soul.
Not for a moment could I now behold
A smiling sea, and be what I have been:
The feeling of my loss will ne'er be old;
This, which I know, I speak with mind serene. 40
Then, Beaumont, Friend!
