The Poem
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| On Nature's invitation do I come, By Reason sanctioned. Can the choice mislead, That made the calmest, fairest spot of earth, With all its unappropriated good, My own, and not mine only, for with me Entrenched—say rather peacefully embowered— Under yon orchard, in yon humble cot, A younger orphan of a home extinct, The only daughter of my parents dwells: Aye, think on that, my heart, and cease to stir; Pause upon that, and let the breathing frame No longer breathe, but all be satisfied. Oh, if such silence be not thanks to God For what hath been bestowed, then where, where then Shall gratitude find rest? Mine eyes did ne'er Fix on a lovely object, nor my mind Take pleasure in the midst of happy thoughts, But either she, whom now I have, who now Divides with me this loved abode, was there, Or not far off. Where'er my footsteps turned, Her voice was like a hidden bird that sang; The thought of her was like a flash of light Or an unseen companionship, a breath Or fragrance independent of the wind. In all my goings, in the new and old Of all my meditations, and in this Favourite of all, in this the most of all.... Embrace me then, ye hills, and close me in. Now in the clear and open day I feel Your guardianship: I take it to my heart; 'Tis like the solemn shelter of the night. But I would call thee beautiful; for mild, And soft, and gay, and beautiful thou art, Dear valley, having in thy face a smile, Though peaceful, full of gladness. Thou art pleased, Pleased with thy crags, and woody steeps, thy lake, Its one green island, and its winding shores, The multitude of little rocky hills, Thy church, and cottages of mountain-stone Clustered like stars some few, but single most, And lurking dimly in their shy retreats, Or glancing at each other cheerful looks, Like separated stars with clouds between. [Note] [Contents] | 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 |
Note:
This Grasmere cottage is identified, much more than Rydal Mount, with Wordsworth's "poetic prime." It had once been a public-house, bearing the sign of the Dove and Olive Bough—and as such is referred to in The Waggoner—from which circumstance it was for a long time, and is now usually, called "Dove Cottage." A small two storied house, it is described somewhat minutely—as it was in Wordsworth's time—by De Quincey, in his Recollections of the Lakes, and by the late Bishop of Lincoln, in the Memoirs of his [uncle.]
"The front of it faces the lake; behind is a small plot of orchard and garden ground, in which there is a spring and rocks; the enclosure shelves upwards towards the woody sides of the mountains above it."[A]
The following is De Quincey's description [of] it, as he saw it in the summer of 1807.
"A white cottage, with two yew trees breaking the glare of its white walls" (these yews still stand on the eastern side of the cottage). "A little semi-vestibule between two doors prefaced the entrance into what might be considered the principal room of the cottage. It was an oblong square, not above eight and a half feet high, sixteen feet long, and twelve broad; wainscoted from floor to ceiling with dark polished oak, slightly embellished with carving. One window there was—a perfect and unpretending cottage window, with little diamond panes, embowered at almost every season of the year with roses; and, in the summer and autumn, with a profusion of jasmine, and other fragrant shrubs.... I was ushered up a little flight of stairs, fourteen in all, to a little drawing-room, or whatever the reader chooses to call it. Wordsworth himself has described the fireplace of this room as his
It was not fully seven feet six inches high, and in other respects pretty nearly of the same dimensions as the rustic hall below. There was, however, in a small recess, a library of perhaps three hundred volumes, which seemed to consecrate the room as the poet's study and composing room, and such occasionally it was. But far oftener he both studied, as I found, and composed on the high road."[B]'Half-kitchen and half-parlour fire.'
'Half-kitchen and half-parlour fire.'
Other poems of later years refer, much more fully than the above, to this cottage, and its orchard ground, where so many of Wordsworth's lyrics were composed.
The "orchard ground," which was for the most part in grass, sloped upwards; but a considerable portion of the natural rock was exposed; and on its face, some rough stone steps were cut by Wordsworth, helped by a near neighbour of his—John Fisher—so as more conveniently to reach the upper terrace, where the poet built for himself a small arbour. All this garden and orchard ground is not much altered since 1800. The short terrace walk is curved, with a sloping bank of grass above, shaded by apple trees, hazel, holly, laburnum, laurel, and mountain ash. Below the terrace is the well, which supplied the cottage in Wordsworth's time; and there large leaved primroses still grow, doubtless the successors of those planted by his own and his sister's hands. Above, and amongst the rocks, are the daffodils, which they also brought to their "garden-ground;" the Christmas roses, which they planted near the well, were removed to the eastern side of the garden, where they flourished luxuriantly in 1882; but have now, alas! disappeared. The box-wood planted by the poet grows close to the cottage. The arbour is now gone; but, in the place where it stood, a seat is erected. The hidden brook still sings its under-song, as it used to do, "its quiet soul on all bestowing," and the green linnet may doubtless be seen now, as it used to be in 1803. The allusions to the garden ground at Dove Cottage, in the poems which follow, will be noted as they occur.—Ed.
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[Main Contents]
See the Memoirs of Wordsworth, vol. i. p. 156.—Ed.
See Recollections of the Lakes, etc., pp. 130-137, Works, vol. ii., edition of 1862.—Ed.