The Poem
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| Here, on our native soil, we breathe once more. The cock that crows, the smoke that curls, that sound Of bells;—those boys who in yon meadow-ground In white-sleeved shirts are playing; and the roar Of the waves breaking on the chalky shore;— All, all are English. Oft have I looked round With joy in Kent's green vales; but never found Myself so satisfied in heart before. Europe is yet in bonds; but let that pass, Thought for another moment. Thou art free, My Country! and 'tis joy enough and pride For one hour's perfect bliss, to tread the grass Of England once again, and hear and see, With such a dear Companion at my side. [Note] [Contents 1802] [Main Contents] | [1] [2] [3] | [A] | 5 10 |
| 1827 | |
| Dear fellow Traveller! here we are once more. | 1807 |
Dear fellow Traveller! here we are once more.
| 1820 | |
| ... that ... | 1807 |
... that ...
| 1815 | |
| In white sleev'd shirts are playing by the score, And even this little River's gentle roar, | 1807 |
In white sleev'd shirts are playing by the score,
And even this little River's gentle roar,
At the beginning of Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal of a Tour on the Continent in 1820, she writes (July 10, 1820):
"When within a mile of Dover saw crowds of people at a cricket match, the numerous combatants dressed in 'white-sleeved shirts;' and it was in the very same field, where, when we 'trod the grass of England once again,' twenty years ago, we had seen an assemblage of youths, engaged in the same sport, so very like the present that all might have been the same. (See my brother's sonnet.)"
Ed.
Note:
Dorothy Wordsworth writes in her Journal,
"On Sunday, the 29th of August, we left Calais, at twelve o'clock in the morning, and landed at Dover at one on Monday the 30th. It was very pleasant to me, when we were in the harbour at Dover, to breathe the fresh air, and to look up and see the stars among the ropes of the vessel. The next day was very hot, we bathed, and sat upon the Dover Cliffs, and looked upon France with many a melancholy and tender thought. We could see the shores almost as plain as if it were but an English lake. We mounted the coach, and arrived in London at six, the 30th August."
Ed.
[Contents 1802]
[Main Contents]
September 1, 1802
Composed September 1, 1802.—Published 1807[A]
Among the capricious acts of Tyranny that disgraced these times, was the chasing of all Negroes from France by decree of the Government: we had a Fellow-passenger who was one of the expelled.—W. W. 1827.