The Poem

textvariantfootnoteline number
Though the torrents from their fountains
Roar down many a craggy steep,
Yet they find among the mountains
Resting-places calm and deep.
Clouds that love through air to hasten,
Ere the storm its fury stills,
Helmet-like themselves will fasten
On the heads of towering hills.
What, if through the frozen centre
Of the Alps the Chamois bound,
Yet he has a home to enter
In some nook of chosen ground:
And the Sea-horse, though the ocean
Yield him no domestic cave,
Slumbers without sense of motion,
Couched upon the rocking wave.
If on windy days the Raven
Gambol like a dancing skiff,
Not the less she loves her haven
In the bosom of the cliff.
The fleet Ostrich, till day closes,
Vagrant over desert sands,
Brooding on her eggs reposes
When chill night that care demands.
Day and night my toils redouble,
Never nearer to the goal;
Night and day, I feel the trouble
Of the Wanderer in my soul.
[Contents: Poems on the Naming of Places]
[Main Contents]
[1]
[2]
[3]
[4]
[5]
[6]
[7]


[A]


5
10
15
20
25

[Variant 1:]

This stanza was added in the edition of 1827.

[return]

[Variant 2:]

1827
Though almost with eagle pinion
O'er the rocks the Chamois roam,
Yet he has some small dominion
Which no doubt he calls his home.


1800
Though, as if with eagle pinion
O'er the rocks the Chamois roam,
Yet he has some small dominion
Where he feels himself at home.


1815

Though almost with eagle pinion
O'er the rocks the Chamois roam,
Yet he has some small dominion
Which no doubt he calls his home.

Though, as if with eagle pinion
O'er the rocks the Chamois roam,
Yet he has some small dominion
Where he feels himself at home.

[return]

[Variant 3:]

1836
Though the Sea-horse in the ocean
Own no dear domestic cave;
Yet he slumbers without motion
On the calm and silent wave.


1800
Yet he slumbers—by the motion
Rocked of many a gentle wave.
1827

Though the Sea-horse in the ocean
Own no dear domestic cave;
Yet he slumbers without motion
On the calm and silent wave.

Yet he slumbers—by the motion
Rocked of many a gentle wave.

[return]

[Variant 4:]

1827
... he loves his haven1800

... he loves his haven

[return]

[Variant 5:]

1815
On ... 1800

On ...

[return]

[Variant 6:]

This stanza was added in 1827.

[return]

[Variant 7:]

1800
Never—never does the trouble
Of the Wanderer leave my soul.
1815

Never—never does the trouble
Of the Wanderer leave my soul.

The text of 1827 returns to that of 1800.

[return]

[Footnote A:]

In the editions of 1800 to 1832 stanzas 4 and 5 were transposed. Their present order was adjusted in the edition of 1836.—Ed

.

[return to footnote mark]

[Contents: Poems on the Naming of Places]
[Main Contents]

The Brothers[A]

Composed 1800.[B]—Published 1800

[The Poem]

[This poem was composed in a grove at the north-eastern end of Grasmere lake, which grove was in a great measure destroyed by turning the high road along the side of the water. The few trees that are left were spared at my intercession. The poem arose out of the fact, mentioned to me at Ennerdale, that a shepherd had fallen asleep upon the top of the rock called the Pillar, and perished as here described, his staff being left midway on the rock.—I. F.]

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."—Ed.