'Tis said, her lamentable state
Even to a careless eye was plain; 1820.
Even to a careless eye was plain; 1820.
William Wordsworth
XI I'll give you the best help I can:
Before you up the mountain go,
Up to the dreary mountain-top,
I'll tell you all I know. ]
[Variant 10:
1845.
'Tis now some two and twenty years, 1798.
'Tis known, that twenty years are passed 1820. ]
[Variant 11:
1820.
And she was happy, happy still
Whene'er she thought of Stephen Hill. 1798. ]
[Variant 12:
1815.
. . . on that woful day
A cruel, cruel fire, they say,
Into her bones was sent:
It dried her body like a cinder,
And almost turn'd her brain to tinder. 1798. ]
[Variant 13:
1836.
'Tis said, a child was in her womb,
As now to any eye was plain; 1798.
'Tis said, her lamentable state
Even to a careless eye was plain; 1820.
Alas! her lamentable state 1827. ]
[Variant 14:
1836.
. . . she was. . . 1798. ]
[Variant 15:
1820.
Oh me! ten thousand times I'd rather
That he had died, that cruel father! 1798. ]
[Variant 16:
1820.
