INSCRIPTIONS SUPPOSED TO BE FOUND IN AND NEAR A HERMIT'S CELL

1818

Composed 1818.—Published 1820

The five poems which follow were placed among the "Inscriptions," from 1820 onwards.—Ed.

"Hopes, what are they?—Beads of Morning"

Hopes, what are they?—Beads of morning

Strung on slender [311] blades of grass;

Or a spider's web adorning

In a strait and treacherous pass.[312]

What are fears but voices airy?

Whispering harm [313] where harm is not;

And deluding the unwary [314]

Till the fatal bolt is shot!

What is glory?—in the socket

See how dying tapers fare!

What is pride?—a whizzing rocket

That would emulate a star.

What is friendship?—do not trust her,

Nor the vows which she has made;

Diamonds dart their brightest lustre

From a palsy-shaken head.

What is truth?—a staff rejected;[315]

Duty?—an unwelcome clog;

Joy?—a moon by fits reflected [316]

In a swamp or watery bog;[317]

Bright, as if through ether steering,[318]

To the Traveller's eye it shone:

He hath hailed it re-appearing—

And as quickly it is gone;

Such is Joy—as quickly hidden,[319]

Or mis-shapen to the sight,

And by sullen weeds forbidden

To resume its native light.[320]

What is youth?—a dancing billow,

(Winds behind, and rocks before!)[321]

Age?—a drooping, tottering willow

On a flat and lazy shore.[322]

What is peace?—when pain is over,

And love ceases to rebel,

Let the last faint sigh discover

That precedes the passing knell!

Compare Carlyle's Cui Bono—

What is Hope? A smiling rainbow

Children follow through the wet;

'Tis not here, still yonder, yonder:

Never urchin found it yet.

What is Life? A thawing iceboard

On a sea with sunny shore;—

Gay we sail; it melts beneath us;

We are sunk, and seen no more.

What is Man? A foolish baby,

Vainly strives, and fights, and frets;

Demanding all, deserving nothing;—

One small grave is what he gets.

See his Miscellaneous Essays, vol. i. p. 352 (edition 1857).—Ed.

Inscribed upon a Rock

[The monument of ice here spoken of I observed while ascending the middle road of the three ways that lead from Rydal to Grasmere.[DC] It was on my right hand, and my eyes were upon it when it fell, as told in these lines.—I. F.]

Pause, Traveller! whosoe'er thou be

Whom chance may lead to this retreat,

Where silence yields reluctantly

Even to the fleecy straggler's bleat;

Give voice to what my hand shall trace,

And fear not lest an idle sound

Of words unsuited to the place

Disturb its solitude profound.

I saw this Rock, while vernal air

Blew softly o'er the russet heath,

Uphold a Monument as fair

As church or abbey furnisheth.

Unsullied did it meet the day,

Like marble, white, like ether, pure;

As if, beneath, some hero lay,

Honoured with costliest sepulture.

My fancy kindled as I gazed;

And, ever as the sun shone forth,

The flattered structure glistened, blazed,

And seemed the proudest thing on earth.

But frost had reared the gorgeous Pile

Unsound as those which Fortune builds—

To undermine with secret guile,

Sapped by the very beam that gilds.

And, while I gazed, with sudden shock

Fell the whole Fabric to the ground;

And naked left this dripping Rock,

With shapeless ruin spread around!

III

"Hast thou seen, with Flash incessant"

[Where the second quarry now is, as you pass from Rydal to Grasmere, there was formerly a length of smooth rock that sloped towards the road on the right hand. I used to call it Tadpole Slope, from having frequently observed there the water-bubbles gliding under the ice, exactly in the shape of that creature.—I. F.]

Hast thou seen, with flash incessant,[323]

Bubbles gliding under ice,

Bodied forth and evanescent,

No one knows by what device?

Such are thoughts!—a wind-swept meadow [324]

Mimicking a troubled sea,

Such is life; and death a shadow

From the rock eternity![325]

Near the Spring of the Hermitage

Troubled long with warring notions

Long impatient of thy rod,

I resign my soul's emotions

Unto Thee, mysterious God!

What avails the kindly shelter

Yielded by this craggy rent,

If my spirit toss and welter

On the waves of discontent?

Parching Summer hath no warrant

To consume this crystal Well;

Rains, that make each rill a torrent,

Neither sully it nor swell.

Thus, dishonouring not her station,

Would my Life present to Thee,

Gracious God, the pure oblation

Of divine tranquillity!

It is impossible to say where the "spring of the Hermitage" was, or was supposed by Wordsworth to be. It may refer to some Rydalian retreat. There is no spring or "crystal well" on St. Herbert's Island, Derwentwater; but Inscription XIII. in the edition of 1820 is entitled "For the Spot where the Hermitage stood on St. Herbert's Island, Derwentwater."—Ed.

"Not seldom, clad in Radiant Vest"

Not seldom, clad in radiant vest,

Deceitfully goes forth the Morn;

Not seldom Evening in the west

Sinks smilingly forsworn.

The smoothest seas will sometimes prove,

To the confiding Bark, untrue;

And, if she trust the stars above,

They can be treacherous too.

The umbrageous Oak, in pomp outspread,

Full oft, when storms the welkin rend,

Draws lightning down upon the head

It promised to defend.

But Thou art true, incarnate Lord,

Who didst vouchsafe for man to die;

Thy smile is sure, thy plighted word

No change can falsify!

I bent before thy gracious throne,

And asked for peace on suppliant knee;[326]

And peace was given,—nor peace alone,

But faith sublimed to ecstasy![327]

VARIANTS:

[311] 1820.

ms.

. . . tender . . .

[312] 1820.

ms.

In some strait and dangerous pass.

[313] 1820.

ms.

Haunting Man . . .

[314] 1820.

ms.

But when danger meets the unwary

[315] 1820.

ms.

. . . a pearl rejected;

[316] 1827.

1820.

Joy?—a dazzling moon reflected

[317] 1820.

ms.

. . . plashing bog;

[318] 1820.

Bright, and in a moment hidden,

[319] 1837.

1820.

Gone, as if for ever hidden,

[320] 1820.

Bright, as if through ether steering,

Not a moment past it shone;

Can we trust its re-appearing?

No, 'tis dim, mis-shapen, gone.

. . . its dazzling light.

[321] 1820.

. . . a sparkling billow

Shaped and instantly no more;

[322] 1820.

ms.

On a melancholy shore.

[323] 1820.
4 vol. edition.

1820.

. . . with train incessant,

1 vol. edition.

[324] 1820.

ms.

See yon undulating meadow

[325] In a MS. this stanza follows the second last one in the Inscription beginning, "Hopes, what are they?"

[326] 1827.

1820.

. . . with suppliant knee;

[327] 1827.

1820.

But faith, and hope, and extacy!

FOOTNOTE:

[DC] And therefore not far from the Glow-worm Rock, if not upon it. See the note to The Pilgrim's Dream, p. 167.—Ed.

COMPOSED UPON AN EVENING OF EXTRAORDINARY
SPLENDOUR AND BEAUTY [DD]

Composed 1818.—Published 1820

[Felt, and in a great measure composed, upon the little mount in front of our abode at Rydal. In concluding my notices of this class of poems, it may be as well to observe that among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets" are a few alluding to morning impressions, which might be read with mutual benefit, in connection with these "Evening Voluntaries." See, for example, that one on Westminster Bridge, that composed on a May Morning, the one on the Song of the Thrush, and that beginning—"While beams of orient light shoot wide and high."—I. F.]

In 1820 this was one of the "Poems of the Imagination." In 1837 it was transferred to the "Evening Voluntaries."—Ed.

Had this effulgence disappeared

With flying haste, I might have sent,

Among the speechless clouds, a look

Of blank astonishment;

But 'tis endued with power to stay,

And sanctify [328] one closing day,

That frail Mortality may see—

What is?—ah no, but what can be!

Time was when field and watery cove

With modulated echoes rang,

While choirs of fervent Angels sang

Their vespers in the grove;[329]

Or, crowning, star-like, each some sovereign height,[330]

Warbled, for heaven above and earth below,

Strains, suitable to both.—Such holy rite,

Methinks, if audibly repeated now

From hill or valley, could not move [331]

Sublimer transport, purer [332] love,

Than doth this silent spectacle—the gleam—

The shadow—and the peace supreme!

No sound is uttered,—but a deep [333]

And solemn harmony pervades

The hollow vale from steep to steep,

And penetrates the glades.

Far-distant images draw nigh,

Called forth by wondrous potency

Of beamy radiance, that imbues

Whate'er it strikes, with gem-like hues!

In vision exquisitely clear,

Herds range [334] along the mountain side;

And glistening antlers are descried;[DE]

And gilded flocks appear.

Thine is the tranquil hour, purpureal Eve!

But long as god-like wish, or hope divine,

Informs my spirit, ne'er can I believe

That this magnificence is wholly thine!

—From worlds not quickened [335] by the sun [DF]

A portion of the gift is won;

An intermingling of Heaven's pomp is spread

On ground which British shepherds tread!

III

And, if there be whom broken ties [336]

Afflict, or injuries assail,

Yon hazy ridges to their eyes

Present a glorious scale,[DG]

Climbing suffused with sunny air,

To stop—no record hath told where!

And tempting Fancy to ascend,

And with immortal Spirits blend![337]

—Wings at my shoulders [338] seem to play;[DH]

But, rooted here, I stand and gaze

On those bright steps that heaven-ward raise [339]

Their practicable way.

Come forth, ye drooping [340] old men, look abroad,

And see to what fair countries ye are bound!

And if some traveller, weary of his road,

Hath slept since noontide on the grassy ground,

Ye Genii! to his covert speed;[341]

And wake him with such gentle heed [342]

As may attune his soul to meet the dower

Bestowed on this transcendent hour!

Such hues from their celestial Urn

Were wont to stream before mine eye,[343]

Where'er it [344] wandered in the morn

Of blissful infancy.[DI]

This glimpse of glory, why renewed?

Nay, rather speak with [345] gratitude;

For, if a vestige of those gleams

Survived, 'twas only in my dreams.

Dread Power! whom peace and calmness serve

No less than Nature's threatening voice,[346]

If aught unworthy be my choice,

From Thee if I would swerve;

Oh, let thy grace remind me of the light

Full early lost, and fruitlessly deplored;

Which, at this moment, on my waking sight

Appears to shine, by miracle restored;

My soul, though yet confined to earth,

Rejoices in a second birth!

—'Tis past, the visionary splendour fades;

And night approaches with her shades.

VARIANTS:

[328] 1820.

ms.

And solemnize . . .

[329] 1820.

. . . rang

Of harp and voice while angels sang

Amid the umbrageous grove,

[330] 1832.

ms. and 1820.

Or, ranged like stars along some sovereign height,

[331] 1820.

. . . both.—Ye sons of Light

If such communion were repeated now

Nor harp nor seraph's voice could move

[332] 1820.

ms.

. . . holier . . .

[333] 1820.

ms.

What though no sound be heard—a deep

[334] 1820.

ms.

Herds graze . . .

[335] 1820.

ms.

From worlds unquicken'd . . .

[336] 1820.

ms.

And if they wish for smooth escape, etc.

[337] 1820.

Yon hazy ridges take the shape

Of stars, a glorious scale

{Climbing }

{That climb} suffused with sunny air

To stop, no record hath told where,

Tempting my fancy to ascend

And with immortal spirits blend.

And if they wish for smooth escape

From grief and this terrestrial vale,

Yon rocks and clouds present the shape

Of stairs, a gradual scale

By which the fancy might ascend,

And with those happy spirits blend,

Whose motions . . .

By night the dreaming Patriarch saw.

And if those whom broken ties

Afflict, or injuries assail,

Yon hazy ridges to their eyes

Present a {climbing} scale,

{glorious}

Suffused in misty sunny air.

It climbs no records have told where.

It {sailed} on ether's glowing waves,

{stole }

And occupied heaven's shining caves,

Tempting the fancy to ascend

And with immortal spirits blend.>

[338] 1837.

1820.

—Wings at my shoulder . . .

[339] 1820.

ms.

. . . upward raise

[340] 1820.

ms.

Come from your Doors, ye . . .

[341] 1820.

ms.

. . . couch repair

[342] 1820.

ms.

. . . care

[343] 1837.

1820.

. . . my eye,

[344] 1820.

Whence but from some celestial urn

{spread before}

These colours—{wont to meet } my eye

Where'er I . . .

[345] 1820.

ms.

. . . in . . .

[346] 1820.

Dread Power! whom clouds and darkness serve,

The thunder, or the still small voice,

FOOTNOTES:

[DD] The title, in the first edition of 1820, was "Ode, composed upon an evening of extraordinary splendor and beauty." In the four-volume edition of that year it was "Evening Ode, composed upon an evening of extraordinary Splendor and Beauty." In a MS. copy I have found the following, "Composed during a sunset of transcendent Beauty, in the summer of 1817."—Ed.

[DE] There used to be fallow deer in the park at Rydal Hall. Compare The Triad (where the local allusions all refer to the Rydal district)—

Pass onward (even the glancing deer

Till we depart intrude not here;)

and The Excursion, book ix. l. 563 (vol. v. p. 373).—Ed.

[DF] Compare Gray's Progress of Poesy, ll. 119, 120—

Such forms, as glitter in the Muse's ray,

With orient hues, unborrow'd of the Sun.

[DG] The multiplication of mountain-ridges, described at the commencement of the third Stanza of this Ode, as a kind of Jacob's Ladder, leading to Heaven, is produced either by watery vapours, or sunny haze;—in the present instance by the latter cause. Allusions to the Ode, entitled Intimations of Immortality, pervade the last Stanza of the foregoing Poem.—W. W. 1820.

The "hazy ridges" referred to in the text are probably those to the west, behind Silver How.—Ed.

[DH] In the lines "Wings at my shoulders seem to play," etc., I am under obligation to the exquisite picture by Mr. Alstone, now in America. It is pleasant to make this public acknowledgment to men of genius, whom I have the honour to rank among my friends.—W. W. 1820.

The phrase "men of genius" includes Haydon. The first part of this note of 1820, being one on Peter Bell, referring to Haydon's Bible picture of Christ's Entry into Jerusalem. (See note to Peter Bell, l. 979.)

The American painter was Mr. Washington Allston. Wordsworth sent him a MS. copy of the poem, transcribed "in gratitude for the pleasure he had received from the sight of Mr. Allston's pictures, in particular 'Jacob's Dream,'" and at the end of the MS. of his poem, Wordsworth wrote, "The Author does not know how far he was indebted to Mr. Allston for part of the 3rd stanza. The multiplication of ridges in a mountainous country, as Mr. A. has probably observed, arises from two causes, sunny or watery vapour—the former is here meant. When does Mr. A. return to England?" In a letter on "Wordsworth and Allston," in The Athenæum, Mr. J. Dykes Campbell refers to "something in the picture having given definite form to observations of natural phenomena the significance of which the poet had not immediately noted." "Wordsworth," he adds, "was a close and untiring rather than a quick or keen observer, and his mind was at all times stored with a wealth of notes which sometimes had to wait long before they could either be worked out or worked in. Sometimes—as in this instance, perhaps—they were revivified by the suggestions of some kindred observer who happened to anticipate the poet in giving them form."—See The Athenæum, August 7, 1894.—Ed.

[DI] Compare the reference in the Ode, Intimations of Immortality, ll. 178, 179, to—

Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.

1819

With the exception of The Haunted Tree, and the lines entitled September 1819, all the poems composed during the year 1819 were sonnets. Four of the latter were published along with Peter Bell, in the first edition of that poem; and other twelve, along with The Waggoner, which was first published in the same year. One of the twelve refers to the Old Hall of Donnerdale, and belongs to the series of Sonnets on the River Duddon, where it will be found (No. XXVII.) It was first published, along with those referring to Rydal, in the volume of 1819, and probably detached from the rest of the series, because originally it had no particular reference to the Old Hall in the Duddon Valley; but was (as Wordsworth indicates in the third of the Fenwick notes to the Duddon) "taken from a tradition belonging to Rydal Hall, which once stood, as is believed, upon a rocky and woody hill on the right hand as you go from Rydal to Ambleside, and was deserted from the superstitious fear here described, and the present site fortunately chosen instead."—Ed.

THIS, AND THE TWO FOLLOWING, WERE SUGGESTED [347] BY MR. W. WESTALL'S VIEWS OF THE CAVES,[DJ] ETC., IN YORKSHIRE

This, and the two following sonnets, were first published in Blackwood's Magazine, vol. iv., January 1819, p. 471. They were reprinted in The Poetical Album, edited by Alaric Watts, in 1829 (Second Series, vol. i. pp. 332, 333) under the title, "The Caves of Yorkshire." The same volume of the Album contains (p. 43) the sonnet beginning—

Not Love, not War, nor the tumultuous swell.

In the 1819 edition of Peter Bell, p. 84, a note, prefatory to the four following sonnets, occurs to this effect: "The following Sonnets having lately appeared in Periodical Publications are here reprinted."—Ed.

Composed 1819.—Published 1819

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.

Pure element of waters! wheresoe'er

Thou dost forsake thy subterranean haunts,

Green herbs, bright flowers, and berry-bearing plants,

Rise [348] into life and in thy train appear:

And, through the sunny portion of the year,

Swift insects shine, thy hovering pursuivants:

And, if thy bounty fail, the forest pants;

And hart and hind and hunter with his spear,

Languish and droop together. Nor unfelt

In man's perturbèd soul thy sway benign;

And, haply, far within the marble belt

Of central earth, where tortured Spirits pine

For grace and goodness lost, thy murmurs melt

Their anguish,—and they blend sweet songs with thine.[DK]

VARIANTS:

[347] 1820.

1819.

Sonnets, suggested . . .

[348] 1820.

Blackwood's Magazine, January 1819.

Start . . .

FOOTNOTES:

[DJ] Wordsworth visited these caves with Edward Quillinan in 1821.—Ed.

[DK] Waters (as Mr. Westall informs us in the letterpress prefixed to his admirable views) are invariably found to flow through these caverns.—W. W. 1819.