EPITAPHS TRANSLATED FROM CHIABRERA
[Those from Chiabrera were chiefly translated when Mr. Coleridge was writing his Friend, in which periodical my "Essay on Epitaphs," written about that time, was first published. For further notice of Chiabrera, in connection with his Epitaphs, see Musings near Aquapendente.—I. F.]
It is better to print all the Epitaphs from Chiabrera together, than to spread them out over the years when they were written or published. Some of them were certainly written in 1809, or at least before 1810; others at a later date. But it is impossible to say in what year those published after 1810 were composed. They are all to be found in the class of "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces."—Ed.
I
"WEEP NOT, BELOVÈD FRIENDS! NOR LET THE AIR"
Published 1837
Weep not, belovèd Friends! nor let the air
For me with sighs be troubled. Not from life
Have I been taken; this is genuine life
And this alone—the life which now I live
In peace eternal; where desire and joy 5
Together move in fellowship without end.—
Francesco Ceni willed that, after death,
His tombstone thus should speak for him.[1] And surely
Small cause there is for that fond wish of ours
Long to continue in this world; a world 10
That keeps not faith, nor yet can point a hope
To good, whereof itself is destitute.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1849.
Francesco Ceni after death enjoined
That thus his tomb should speak for him ... 1837.
II
"PERHAPS SOME NEEDFUL SERVICE OF THE STATE"
Published 1810[A]
Perhaps some needful service of the State
Drew Titus from the depth of studious bowers,
And doomed him to contend in faithless courts,
Where gold determines between right and wrong.
Yet did at length his loyalty of heart, 5
And his pure native genius, lead him back
To wait upon the bright and gracious Muses,
Whom he had early loved. And not in vain
Such course he held! Bologna's learned schools
Were gladdened by the Sage's voice, and hung 10
With fondness on those sweet Nestorian strains.[1]
There pleasure crowned his days; and all his thoughts
A roseate fragrance breathed.[2][B]—O human life,
That never art secure from dolorous change!
Behold a high injunction suddenly 15
To Arno's side hath brought him,[3] and he charmed
A Tuscan audience: but full soon was called
To the perpetual silence of the grave.
Mourn, Italy, the loss of him who stood
A Champion stedfast and invincible, 20
To quell the rage of literary War!
VARIANTS:
[1] 1815.
... Nestrian 1810.
[2] 1815.
There did he live content; and all his thoughts
Were blithe as vernal flowers.— 1810.
[3] 1837.
To Arno's side conducts him, 1810.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] In The Friend, February 22.—Ed.
Ivi vivea giocondo ei suoi pensieri
Erano tutti rose.
The Translator had not skill to come nearer to his original.—W. W. 1815.
III
"O THOU WHO MOVEST ONWARD WITH A MIND"
Published 1810[A]
O Thou who movest onward with a mind
Intent upon thy way, pause, though in haste!
'Twill be no fruitless moment. I was born
Within Savona's walls, of gentle blood.
On Tiber's banks my youth was dedicate 5
To sacred studies; and the Roman Shepherd
Gave to my charge Urbino's numerous flock.
Well[1] did I watch, much laboured, nor had power
To escape from many and strange indignities;
Was smitten by the great ones of the world, 10
But did not fall; for Virtue braves all shocks,
Upon herself resting immoveably.
Me did a kindlier fortune then invite
To serve the glorious Henry, King of France,
And in his hands I saw a high reward 15
Stretched out for my acceptance,—but Death came.
Now, Reader, learn from this my fate, how false,
How treacherous to her promise, is the world;
And trust in God—to whose eternal doom
Must bend the sceptred Potentates of earth. 20
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
Much ... 1810.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] In The Friend, February 22.—Ed.
IV
"THERE NEVER BREATHED A MAN WHO, WHEN HIS LIFE"
Published 1809[A]
There never breathed a man who, when his life
Was closing, might not of that life relate
Toils long and hard.—The warrior will report
Of wounds, and bright swords flashing in the field,
And blast of trumpets. He who hath been doomed 5
To bow his forehead in the courts of kings,
Will tell of fraud and never-ceasing hate,
Envy and heart-inquietude, derived
From intricate cabals of treacherous friends.
I, who on shipboard lived from earliest youth, 10
Could represent the countenance horrible
Of the vexed waters, and the indignant rage
Of Auster and Boötes. Fifty[1] years
Over the well-steered galleys did I rule:—
From huge Pelorus to the Atlantic pillars, 15
Rises no mountain to mine eyes unknown;
And the broad gulfs I traversed oft and oft:
Of every cloud which in the heavens might stir
I knew the force; and hence the rough sea's pride
Availed not to my Vessel's overthrow. 20
What noble pomp and frequent have not I
On regal decks beheld! yet in the end
I learned[2] that one poor moment can suffice
To equalise the lofty and the low.
We sail the sea of life—a Calm One finds, 25
And One a Tempest—and, the voyage o'er,
Death is the quiet haven of us all.
If more of my condition ye would know,
Savona was my birth-place, and I sprang
Of noble parents: seventy[3] years and three 30
Lived I—then yielded to a slow disease.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
... Forty 1809.
[2] 1832.
I learn ... 1809.
[3] 1837.
... sixty ... 1809.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] In The Friend, December 28.—Ed.
V
"TRUE IS IT THAT AMBROSIO SALINERO"
Published 1837
True is it that Ambrosio Salinero
With an untoward fate was long involved
In odious litigation; and full long,
Fate harder still! had he to endure assaults
Of racking malady. And true it is 5
That not the less a frank courageous heart
And buoyant spirit triumphed over pain;
And he was strong to follow in the steps
Of the fair Muses. Not a covert path
Leads to the dear Parnassian forest's shade, 10
That might from him be hidden; not a track
Mounts to pellucid Hippocrene, but he
Had traced its windings.—This Savona knows,
Yet no sepulchral honours to her Son
She paid, for in our age the heart is ruled 15
Only by gold. And now a simple stone
Inscribed with this memorial here is raised
By his bereft, his lonely, Chiabrera.
Think not, O Passenger! who read'st the lines
That an exceeding love hath dazzled me; 20
No—he was One whose memory ought to spread
Where'er Permessus bears an honoured name,
And live as long as its pure stream shall flow.[A]
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Compare S. T. Coleridge's poem, A Tombless Epitaph.—Ed.
VI
"DESTINED TO WAR FROM VERY INFANCY"
Published 1809[A]
Destined to war from very infancy
Was I, Roberto Dati, and I took
In Malta the white symbol of the Cross:
Nor in life's vigorous season did I shun
Hazard or toil; among the sands was seen 5
Of Libya; and not seldom, on the banks
Of wide Hungarian Danube, 'twas my lot
To hear the sanguinary trumpet sounded.
So lived I, and repined not at such fate:
This only grieves me, for it seems a wrong, 10
That stripped of arms I to my end am brought
On the soft down of my paternal home.
Yet haply Arno shall be spared all cause
To blush for me. Thou, loiter not nor halt
In thy appointed way, and bear in mind 15
How fleeting and how frail is human life!
FOOTNOTES:
[A] In The Friend, December 28.—Ed.
VII
"O FLOWER OF ALL THAT SPRINGS FROM GENTLE BLOOD"
Published 1837
O flower of all that springs from gentle blood,
And all that generous nurture breeds to make
Youth amiable; O friend so true of soul
To fair Aglaia; by what envy moved,
Lelius! has death cut short thy brilliant day 5
In its sweet opening? and what dire mishap
Has from Savona torn her best delight?
For thee she mourns, nor e'er will cease to mourn;
And, should the out-pourings of her eyes suffice not
For her heart's grief, she will entreat Sebeto 10
Not to withhold his bounteous aid, Sebeto
Who saw thee, on his margin, yield to death,
In the chaste arms of thy belovèd Love!
What profit riches? what does youth avail?
Dust are our hopes;—I, weeping bitterly, 15
Penned these sad lines, nor can forbear to pray
That every gentle Spirit hither led
May read them not without some bitter tears.
VIII
"NOT WITHOUT HEAVY GRIEF OF HEART DID HE"
Published 1810[A]
Not without heavy grief of heart did He
On whom the duty fell (for at that time
The father sojourned in a distant land)
Deposit in the hollow of this tomb
A brother's Child, most tenderly beloved! 5
Francesco was the name the Youth had borne,
Pozzobonnelli his illustrious house;
And, when beneath this stone the Corse was laid,
The eyes of all Savona streamed with tears.
Alas! the twentieth April of his life 10
Had scarcely flowered: and at this early time,
By genuine virtue he inspired a hope
That greatly cheered his country: to his kin
He promised comfort; and the flattering thoughts
His friends had in their fondness entertained,[B] 15
He suffered not to languish or decay.
Now is there not good reason to break forth
Into a passionate lament?—O Soul!
Short while a Pilgrim in our nether world,
Do thou enjoy the calm empyreal air; 20
And round this earthly tomb let roses rise,
An everlasting spring! in memory
Of that delightful fragrance which was once
From thy mild manners quietly exhaled.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] In The Friend, January 4.—Ed.
[B] In justice to the Author I subjoin the original—
... e degli amici
Non lasciava languire i bei pensieri.—W. W. 1815.
IX
"PAUSE, COURTEOUS SPIRIT!—BALBI SUPPLICATES"[A]
Published 1810[B]
Pause, courteous Spirit!—Balbi supplicates
That Thou, with no reluctant voice, for him
Here laid in mortal darkness, wouldst prefer
A prayer to the Redeemer of the world.
This to the dead by sacred right belongs; 5
All else is nothing.—Did occasion suit
To tell his worth, the marble of this tomb
Would ill suffice: for Plato's lore sublime,
And all the wisdom of the Stagyrite,
Enriched and beautified his studious mind: 10
With Archimedes also he conversed
As with a chosen friend; nor did he leave
Those laureat wreaths ungathered which the Nymphs
Twine near their loved Permessus.[1]—Finally,
Himself above each lower thought uplifting, 15
His ears he closed to listen to the songs[2]
Which Sion's Kings did consecrate of old;
And his Permessus found on Lebanon.[3]
A blessèd Man! who of protracted days
Made not, as thousands do, a vulgar sleep; 20
But truly did He live his life. Urbino,
Take pride in him!—O Passenger, farewell!
I have been unable to obtain any definite information in reference to the persons commemorated in these epitaphs by Chiabrera: Francesco Ceni, Titus, Ambrosio Salinero, Roberto Dati, Lelius, Francesco Pozzobonnelli, and Balbi. Mr. W. M. Rossetti writes to me that he "supposes all the men named by Chiabrera to be such as enjoyed a certain local and temporary reputation, which has hardly passed down to any sort of posterity, and certainly not to the ordinary English reader."
Chiabrera was born at Savona on the 8th of June 1552, and educated at Rome. He entered the service of Cardinal Cornaro, married in his 50th year, lived to the age of 85, and died October 14, 1637. His poetical faculty showed itself late. "Having commenced to read the Greek writers at home, he conceived a great admiration for Pindar, and strove successfully to imitate him. He was not less happy in catching the naïve and pleasant spirit of Anacreon; his canzonetti being distinguished for their ease and elegance, while his Lettere Famigliari was the first attempt to introduce the poetical epistle into Italian Literature. He wrote also several epics, bucolics, and dramatic poems. His Opere appeared at Venice, in 6 vols., in 1768."
Wordsworth says of him, in his Essay on Epitaphs, where translations of two of those Epitaphs of Chiabrera first appeared (see The Friend, February 22, 1810, and notes to The Excursion)—"His life was long, and every part of it bore appropriate fruits. Urbino, his birth-place, might be proud of him, and the passenger who was entreated to pray for his soul has a wish breathed for his welfare.... The Epitaphs of Chiabrera are twenty-nine in number, and all of them, save two, upon men probably little known at this day in their own country, and scarcely at all beyond the limits of it; and the reader is generally made acquainted with the moral and intellectual excellence which distinguished them by a brief history of the course of their lives, or a selection of events and circumstances, and thus they are individualized; but in the two other instances, namely, in those of Tasso and Raphael, he enters into no particulars, but contents himself with four lines expressing one sentiment, upon the principle laid down in the former part of this discourse, when the subject of the epitaph is a man of prime note...."
Compare the poem Musings near Aquapendente. In reference to the places referred to in these Epitaphs of Chiabrera, it may be mentioned that Savona (Epitaphs [III.], [IV.], [V.], [VII.], [VIII.]) is a town in the Genovese territory; Permessus (Epitaphs [V.] and [IX.]) a river of Bœotia, rising in Mount Helicon and flowing round it, hence sacred to the Muses; and that the fountain of Hippocrene—also referred to in Epitaph [V.]—was not far distant. Sebeto (Epitaph [VII.]), now cape Faro, is a Sicilian promontory.—Ed.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
Twine on the top of Pindus.— ... 1810.
[2] 1837.
... Song 1810.
[3] 1837.
And fixed his Pindus upon Lebanon. 1810.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Wordsworth's extended commentary on this sonnet in his Essay on Epitaphs (see his "Prose Works" in this edition), should here be referred to.—Ed.
[B] In The Friend, January 4.—Ed.
1810
As indicated in the editorial note to the poems belonging to the year 1809, those of 1810 were mainly sonnets, suggested by the events occurring on the Continent of Europe, and the patriotic efforts of the Spaniards to resist Napoleon. I have assigned the two referring to Flamininus, entitled [On a Celebrated Event in Ancient History], to the same year. They were first published in 1815, and seem to have been due to the same impulse which led Wordsworth to write the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.
"AH! WHERE IS PALAFOX? NOR TONGUE NOR PEN"
Composed 1810.—Published 1815
All the sonnets of 1810 were "dedicated to Liberty." In every edition this poem had for its title the date 1810.—Ed.
Ah! where is Palafox? Nor tongue nor pen
Reports of him, his dwelling or his grave!
Does yet the unheard-of vessel ride the wave?
Or is she swallowed up, remote from ken
Of pitying human-nature? Once again 5
Methinks that we shall hail thee, Champion brave,
Redeemed to baffle that imperial Slave,
And through all Europe cheer desponding men
With new-born hope. Unbounded is the might
Of martyrdom, and fortitude, and right. 10
Hark, how thy Country triumphs!—Smilingly
The Eternal looks upon her sword that gleams,
Like his own lightning, over mountains high,
On rampart, and the banks of all her streams.
See notes to sonnets (pp. [223] and [229]).—Ed.
"IN DUE OBSERVANCE OF AN ANCIENT RITE"
Composed 1810.—Published 1815
In due observance of an ancient rite,
The rude Biscayans, when their children lie
Dead in the sinless time of infancy,
Attire the peaceful corse in vestments white;
And, in like sign of cloudless triumph bright, 5
They bind the unoffending creature's brows
With happy garlands of the pure white rose:
Then do[1] a festal company unite
In choral song; and, while the uplifted cross
Of Jesus goes before, the child is borne 10
Uncovered to his grave: 'tis closed,—her loss
The Mother then mourns, as she needs must mourn;
But soon, through Christian faith, is grief subdued;[2]
And joy returns, to brighten fortitude.[3]
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
This done, ... 1815.
[2] 1837.
Uncovered to his grave.—Her piteous loss
The lonesome Mother cannot chuse but mourn;
Yet soon by Christian faith is grief subdued, 1815.
[3] C. and 1838.
And joy attends upon her fortitude. 1815.
Or joy returns to brighten fortitude. 1837.
FEELINGS OF A NOBLE BISCAYAN AT ONE OF THOSE FUNERALS, 1810
Composed 1810.—Published 1815
Yet, yet, Biscayans! we must meet our Foes
With firmer soul, yet labour to regain
Our ancient freedom; else 'twere worse than vain
To gather round the bier these festal shows.
A garland fashioned of the pure white rose 5
Becomes not one whose father is a slave:
Oh, bear the infant covered to his grave!
These venerable mountains now enclose
A people sunk in apathy and fear.
If this endure, farewell, for us, all good! 10
The awful light of heavenly innocence
Will fail to illuminate the infant's bier;
And guilt and shame, from which is no defence,
Descend on all that issues from our blood.
ON A CELEBRATED EVENT IN ANCIENT HISTORY
Composed 1810.—Published 1815
A Roman Master stands on Grecian ground,
And to the people at the Isthmian Games
Assembled, He, by a herald's voice, proclaims[1]
The Liberty of Greece:—the words rebound
Until all voices in one voice are drowned; 5
Glad acclamation by which air was[2] rent!
And birds, high flying in the element,
Dropped[3] to the earth, astonished at the sound!
Yet were the thoughtful grieved; and still that voice
Haunts, with sad echoes, musing Fancy's ear:[4] 10
Ah! that a Conqueror's words[5] should be so dear:
Ah! that a boon could shed such rapturous joys!
A gift of that which is not to be given
By all the blended powers of Earth and Heaven.
This "Roman Master" "on Grecian ground" was T. Quintius Flamininus, one of the ablest and noblest of the Roman generals (230-174 B.C.). He was successful against Philip of Macedon, overran Thessaly in 198, and conquered the Macedonian army in 197, defeating Philip at Cynoscephalæ. He concluded a peace with the vanquished. "In the spring of 196, the Roman commission arrived in Greece to arrange, conjointly with Flamininus, the affairs of the country: they also brought with them the terms on which a definite peace was to be concluded with Philip.... The Ætolians exerted themselves to excite suspicions among the Greeks as to the sincerity of the Romans in their dealings with them. Flamininus, however, insisted upon immediate compliance with the terms of the peace.... In this summer, the Isthmian games were celebrated at Corinth, and thousands from all parts of Greece flocked thither. Flamininus, accompanied by the ten commissioners, entered the assembly, and, at his command, a herald, in name of the Roman Senate, proclaimed the freedom and independence of Greece. The joy and enthusiasm at this unexpected declaration was beyond all description: the throngs of people that crowded around Flamininus to catch a sight of their liberator or touch his garment were so enormous, that even his life was endangered." (Smith's Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography: Art. Flamininus, No. 4.)—Ed.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
And to the Concourse of the Isthmian Games
He, by his Herald's voice, aloud proclaims 1815.
[2] 1815.
... is ... 1838.
The text of 1840 returns to that of 1815.
[3] 1815.
Drop ... 1838.
The text of 1840 returns to that of 1815.
[4] 1837.
... at the sound!
—A melancholy Echo of that noise
Doth sometimes hang on musing Fancy's ear: 1815.
[5] 1815.
... word ... 1827.
The text of 1837 returns to that of 1815.
UPON THE SAME EVENT
Composed (probably) 1810.—Published 1815
When, far and wide, swift as the beams of morn
The tidings passed of servitude repealed,
And of that joy which shook the Isthmian Field,
The rough Ætolians smiled with bitter scorn.
"'Tis known," cried they, "that he, who would adorn
His envied temples with the Isthmian crown, 6
Must either win, through effort of his own,
The prize, or be content to see it worn
By more deserving brows.—Yet so ye prop,
Sons of the brave who fought at Marathon, 10
Your feeble spirits! Greece her head hath bowed,
As if the wreath of liberty thereon
Would fix itself as smoothly as a cloud,
Which, at Jove's will, descends on Pelion's top."
The Ætolians were the only Greeks that entertained suspicion of the Roman designs from the first. When Flamininus was wintering in Phocis in 196, and an insurrection broke out at Opus, some of the citizens had called in the aid of the Ætolians against the Macedonian garrison; but the gates of the city were not opened to admit the Ætolian volunteers till Flamininus arrived. Then in the battle at the heights of Cynoscephalæ, where the Macedonian army was routed, the Ætolian contingent, which had helped Flamininus, claimed the sole credit of the victory; and wished no truce made with Philip, as they were bent on the destruction of the Macedonian power. The Ætolians aimed subsequently at exciting suspicion against the sincerity of Flamininus. In the second sonnet, Wordsworth's sympathy seems to have been with the Ætolians, as much as it was with the Swiss and the Tyrolese in their attitude to Buonaparte. But Flamininus was not a Napoleon.—Ed.
THE OAK OF GUERNICA
Composed 1810.—Published 1815
The ancient oak of Guernica, says Laborde in his account of Biscay, is a most venerable natural monument. Ferdinand and Isabella, in the year 1476, after hearing mass in the church of Santa Maria de la Antigua, repaired to this tree, under which they swore to the Biscayans to maintain their fueros (privileges). What other interest belongs to it in the minds of this people will appear from the following
SUPPOSED ADDRESS TO THE SAME. 1810
Oak of Guernica! Tree of holier power
Than that which in Dodona did enshrine
(So faith too fondly deemed) a voice divine
Heard from the depths of its aërial bower—
How canst thou flourish at this blighting hour? 5
What hope, what joy can sunshine bring to thee,
Or the soft breezes from the Atlantic sea,
The dews of morn, or April's tender shower?
Stroke merciful and welcome would that be
Which should extend thy branches on the ground, 10
If never more within their shady round
Those lofty-minded Lawgivers shall meet,
Peasant and lord, in their appointed seat,
Guardians of Biscay's ancient liberty.
Prophetic power was believed to reside within the grove which surrounded the temple of Jupiter near Dodona, in Epirus, and oracles were given forth from the boughs of the sacred oak.—Ed.
INDIGNATION OF A HIGH-MINDED SPANIARD, 1810
Composed 1810.—Published 1815
We can endure that He should waste our lands,
Despoil our temples, and by sword and flame
Return us to the dust from which we came;
Such food a Tyrant's appetite demands:
And we can brook the thought that by his hands 5
Spain may be overpowered, and he possess,
For his delight, a solemn wilderness
Where all the brave lie dead. But, when of bands
Which he will break for us he dares to speak,
Of benefits, and of a future day 10
When our enlightened minds shall bless his sway;
Then, the strained heart of fortitude proves weak;
Our groans, our blushes, our pale cheeks declare
That he has power to inflict what we lack strength to bear.
Compare the two sonnets [On a Celebrated Event in Ancient History] ([pp. 242-44]). The following note to the last line of this sonnet occurs in Professor Reed's American edition of the Poems:—"The student of English poetry will call to mind Cowley's impassioned expression of the indignation of a Briton under the depression of disasters somewhat similar.
Let rather Roman come again,
Or Saxon, Norman, or the Dane:
In all the bonds we ever bore,
We grieved, we sighed, we wept, we never blushed before."
See Cowley's Discourse on the Government of Oliver Cromwell.—Ed.
"AVAUNT ALL SPECIOUS PLIANCY OF MIND"
Composed 1810.—Published 1815
Avaunt all specious pliancy of mind
In men of low degree, all smooth pretence!
I better like a blunt indifference,
And self-respecting slowness, disinclined
To win me at first sight: and be there joined 5
Patience and temperance with this high reserve,
Honour that knows the path and will not swerve;
Affections, which, if put to proof, are kind;
And piety towards God. Such men of old
Were England's native growth; and, throughout Spain,
(Thanks to high God) forests of such remain:[1] 11
Then for that Country let our hopes be bold;
For matched with these shall policy prove vain,
Her arts, her strength, her iron, and her gold.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
Forests of such do at this day remain; 1815.
"O'ERWEENING STATESMEN HAVE FULL LONG RELIED"
Composed 1810.—Published 1815
In all the editions this poem has for its title the date 1810.—Ed.
O'erweening Statesmen have full long relied
On fleets and armies, and external wealth:
But from within proceeds a Nation's health;
Which shall not fail, though poor men cleave with pride
To the paternal floor; or turn aside, 5
In the thronged city, from the walks of gain,
As being all unworthy to detain
A Soul by contemplation sanctified.
There are who cannot languish in this strife,
Spaniards of every rank, by whom the good 10
Of such high course was felt and understood;
Who to their Country's cause have bound a life
Erewhile, by solemn consecration, given
To labour, and to prayer, to nature, and to heaven.[A]
FOOTNOTES:
[A] See Laborde's Character of the Spanish People; from him the sentiment of these two last lines is taken.—W. W. 1815.
THE FRENCH AND THE SPANISH GUERILLAS
Composed 1810.—Published 1815
Hunger, and sultry heat, and nipping blast
From bleak hill-top, and length of march by night
Through heavy swamp, or over snow-clad height—
These hardships ill-sustained, these dangers past,
The roving Spanish Bands are reached at last, 5
Charged, and dispersed like foam: but as a flight
Of scattered quails by signs do reunite,
So these,—and, heard of once again, are chased
With combinations of long-practised art
And newly-kindled hope; but they are fled— 10
Gone are they, viewless as the buried dead:
Where now?—Their sword is at the Foeman's heart!
And thus from year to year his walk they thwart,
And hang like dreams around his guilty bed.
See the note appended to the sonnet entitled [Spanish Guerillas] ([p. 254]).—Ed.
MATERNAL GRIEF
Composed 1810.—Published 1842
[This was in part an overflow from the Solitary's description of his own and his wife's feelings upon the decease of their children. (See Excursion, book 3rd.)—I. F.]
One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."—Ed.
Departed Child! I could forget thee once
Though at my bosom nursed; this woeful gain
Thy dissolution brings, that in my soul
Is present and perpetually abides
A shadow, never, never to be displaced 5
By the returning substance, seen or touched,
Seen by mine eyes, or clasped in my embrace.
Absence and death how differ they! and how
Shall I admit that nothing can restore
What one short sigh so easily removed?— 10
Death, life, and sleep, reality and thought,
Assist me, God, their boundaries to know,
O teach me calm submission to thy Will!
The Child she mourned had overstepped the pale
Of Infancy, but still did breathe the air 15
That sanctifies its confines, and partook
Reflected beams of that celestial light[A]
To all the Little-ones on sinful earth
Not unvouchsafed—a light that warmed and cheered
Those several qualities of heart and mind 20
Which, in her own blest nature, rooted deep,
Daily before the Mother's watchful eye,
And not hers only, their peculiar charms
Unfolded,—beauty, for its present self,
And for its promises to future years, 25
With not unfrequent rapture fondly hailed.
Have you espied upon a dewy lawn
A pair of Leverets each provoking each
To a continuance of their fearless sport,
Two separate Creatures in their several gifts 30
Abounding, but so fashioned that, in all
That Nature prompts them to display, their looks,
Their starts of motion and their fits of rest,
An undistinguishable style appears
And character of gladness, as if Spring 35
Lodged in their innocent bosoms, and the spirit
Of the rejoicing morning were their own?
Such union, in the lovely Girl maintained
And her twin Brother, had the parent seen,
Ere, pouncing like a ravenous bird of prey, 40
Death in a moment parted them, and left
The Mother, in her turns of anguish, worse
Than desolate; for oft-times from the sound
Of the survivor's sweetest voice (dear child,
He knew it not) and from his happiest looks, 45
Did she extract the food of self-reproach,
As one that lived ungrateful for the stay
By Heaven afforded to uphold her maimed
And tottering spirit. And full oft the Boy,
Now first acquainted with distress and grief, 50
Shrunk from his Mother's presence, shunned with fear
Her sad approach, and stole away to find,
In his known haunts of joy where'er he might,
A more congenial object. But, as time
Softened her pangs and reconciled the child 55
To what he saw, he gradually returned,
Like a scared Bird encouraged to renew
A broken intercourse; and, while his eyes
Were yet with pensive fear and gentle awe
Turned upon her who bore him, she would stoop 60
To imprint a kiss that lacked not power to spread
Faint colour over both their pallid cheeks,
And stilled his tremulous lip. Thus they were calmed
And cheered; and now together breathe fresh air
In open fields; and when the glare of day 65
Is gone, and twilight to the Mother's wish
Befriends the observance, readily they join
In walks whose boundary is the lost One's grave,
Which he with flowers hath planted, finding there
Amusement, where the Mother does not miss 70
Dear consolation, kneeling on the turf
In prayer, yet blending with that solemn rite
Of pious faith the vanities of grief;
For such, by pitying Angels and by Spirits
Transferred to regions upon which the clouds 75
Of our weak nature rest not, must be deemed
Those willing tears, and unforbidden sighs,
And all those tokens of a cherished sorrow,
Which, soothed and sweetened by the grace of Heaven
As now it is, seems to her own fond heart, 80
Immortal as the love that gave it being.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Compare the Ode, Intimations of Immortality, l. 4, and passim (vol. viii.)—Ed.
1811
In the spring of 1811 Wordsworth left Allan Bank, to reside for two years in the Rectory, Grasmere. A small fragment on his daughter Catherine, the [Epistle to Sir George Beaumont, Bart., from the south-west coast of Cumberland], the lines [To the Poet, John Dyer], and four sonnets (mainly suggested by the events of the year in Spain) comprise all the poems belonging to 1811.—Ed.
CHARACTERISTICS OF A CHILD THREE YEARS OLD
Composed 1811.—Published 1815
[Written at Allanbank, Grasmere. Picture of my daughter, Catherine, who died the year after.—I. F.]
Classed among the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."—Ed.
Loving she is, and tractable, though wild;
And Innocence hath privilege in her
To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes;
And feats of cunning; and the pretty round
Of trespasses, affected to provoke 5
Mock-chastisement and partnership in play.
And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth,
Not less if unattended and alone
Than when both young and old sit gathered round
And take delight in its activity; 10
Even so this happy Creature of herself
Is all-sufficient; solitude to her
Is blithe society, who fills the air
With gladness and involuntary songs.
Light are her sallies as the tripping fawn's 15
Forth-startled from the fern where she lay couched;
Unthought-of, unexpected, as the stir
Of the soft breeze ruffling the meadow-flowers,
Or from before it chasing wantonly
The many-coloured images imprest 20
Upon the bosom of a placid lake.
On February 28, 1810, Dorothy Wordsworth wrote to Lady Beaumont, "Catherine is the only funny child in the family; the rest of the children are lively, but Catherine is comical in every look and motion. Thomas perpetually forces a tender smile by his simplicity, but Catherine makes you laugh outright, though she can hardly say a dozen words, and she joins in the laugh, as if sensible of the drollery of her appearance."—Ed.
SPANISH GUERILLAS, 1811
Composed 1811.—Published 1815
Classed among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.
They seek, are sought; to daily battle led,
Shrink not, though far outnumbered by their Foes,
For they have learnt to open and to close
The ridges of grim war;[A] and at their head
Are captains such as erst their country bred 5
Or fostered, self-supported chiefs,—like those
Whom hardy Rome was fearful to oppose;
Whose desperate shock the Carthaginian fled.
In One who lived unknown a shepherd's life
Redoubted Viriatus breathes again;[B] 10
And Mina, nourished in the studious shade,[C]
With that great Leader[D] vies, who, sick of strife
And bloodshed, longed in quiet to be laid
In some green island of the western main.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Compare Paradise Lost, book vi. ll. 235-36—
and when to close
The ridges of grim war.Ed.
[B] Viriatus, for eight or fourteen years leader of the Lusitanians in the war with the Romans in the middle of the second century B.C. He defeated many of the Roman generals, including Q. Pompeius. Some of the historians say that he was originally a shepherd, and then a robber or guerilla chieftain. (See Livy, books 52 and 54.)—Ed.
[C] "Whilst the chief force of the French was occupied in Portugal and Andalusia, and there remained in the interior of Spain only a few weak corps, the Guerilla system took deep root, and in the course of 1811 attained its greatest perfection. Left to itself the boldest and most enterprising of its members rose to command, and the mode of warfare best adapted to their force and habits was pursued. Each province boasted of a hero, in command of a formidable band—Old Castile, Don Julian Sanches; Aragon, Longa; Navarre, Esprez y Mina, ...with innumerable others, whose deeds spread a lustre over every part of the kingdom.... Mina and Longa headed armies of 6000 or 8000 men with distinguished ability, and displayed manœuvres oftentimes for months together, in baffling the pursuit of more numerous bodies of French, which would reflect credit on the most celebrated commanders." Mina had been trained for clerical life. (See Account of the War in Spain and Portugal, and in the south of France, from 1808 to 1814 inclusive, by Lieut.-Colonel John T. Jones. London, 1818.)—Ed.
[D] Sertorius.—W. W. 1827. See note to The Prelude book i. vol. iii. p. 138.—Ed.
"THE POWER OF ARMIES IS A VISIBLE THING"
Composed 1811.—Published 1815
One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty."
The power of Armies is a visible thing,[A]
Formal, and circumscribed in time and space;[1]
But who the limits of that power shall trace[2]
Which a brave People into light can bring
Or hide, at will,—for freedom combating 5
By just revenge inflamed? No foot may chase,[3]
No eye can follow, to a fatal[4] place
That power, that spirit, whether on the wing
Like the strong wind, or sleeping like the wind
Within its awful caves.—From year to year 10
Springs this indigenous produce far and near;
No craft this subtle element can bind,
Rising like water from the soil, to find
In every nook a lip that it may cheer.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1827.
... and place; 1815.
[2] 1827.
... can trace 1815.
[3] 1827.
... can chase, 1815.
[4] The word "fatal" was italicised in the editions of 1815-43.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Compare Aubrey de Vere's Picturesque Sketches of Greece and Turkey, vol. i. chap. viii. p. 204.—Ed.
"HERE PAUSE: THE POET CLAIMS AT LEAST THIS PRAISE"
Composed 1811.—Published 1815
Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty." In 1815 it was called Conclusion, as ending this series of poems in that edition. In all editions it was headed by the date 1811.—Ed.
Here pause: the poet claims at least this praise,
That virtuous Liberty hath been the scope
Of his pure song, which did not shrink from hope
In the worst moment of these evil days;
From hope, the paramount duty that Heaven lays, 5
For its own honour, on man's suffering heart.[A]
Never may from our souls one truth depart—
That an accursed[1] thing it is to gaze
On prosperous tyrants with a dazzled eye;
Nor—touched with due abhorrence of their guilt 10
For whose dire ends tears flow, and blood is spilt,
And justice labours in extremity—
Forget thy weakness, upon which is built,
O wretched man, the throne of tyranny!
VARIANTS:
[1] The word "accursed" was italicised in the editions of 1815-43.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Compare The Excursion (book iv. l. 763)—
We live by Admiration, Hope, and Love,
and S. T. C. in The Friend (vol. i. p. 172). "What an awful duty, what a nurse of all others, the fairest virtues, does not Hope become! We are bad ourselves, because we despair of the goodness of others."—Ed.