TO THE RIVER DERWENT
Composed 1819.—Published 1819
This sonnet was first published along with The Waggoner. In the editions from 1820 to 1832 it was placed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." In 1835 it was included in the series of "Poems, composed or suggested during a tour, in the summer of 1833."—Ed.
Among the mountains were we nursed, loved Stream!
Thou near the eagle's nest—within brief sail,
I, of his bold wing floating on the gale,
Where thy deep voice could lull me! Faint the beam
Of human life when first allowed to gleam
On mortal notice.—Glory of the vale,
Such thy meek outset, with a crown, though frail,
Kept in perpetual verdure by the steam
Of thy soft breath!—Less vivid wreath[379] entwined
Nemæan victor's brow; less bright was worn,
Meed of some Roman chief—in triumph borne
With captives chained; and shedding from his car
The sunset splendours of a finished war
Upon the proud enslavers of mankind!
The Derwent has its source on the slopes of Glaramara; and an Eagle Crag rises above one of its affluents (the Langstrath beck, separating the Langstrath from the Greenup Valley). Doubtless there were eagles there in the last century when Wordsworth was born, and they would soar over Skiddaw and the Grasmere group of mountains towards Cockermouth, his birth-place.—Ed.
VARIANT:
[379] 1827.
1819.
. . . wreaths . . .
COMPOSED IN ONE OF THE VALLEYS OF WESTMORELAND, ON EASTER SUNDAY[380]
Composed 1819.—Published 1819
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
With each recurrence of this glorious morn
That saw the Saviour in his human frame
Rise from the dead, erewhile the Cottage-dame
Put on fresh raiment—till that hour unworn:
Domestic[381] hands the home-bred wool had shorn,
And she who span it culled[382] the daintiest fleece,
In thoughtful reverence to the Prince of Peace,
Whose temples bled beneath the platted thorn.
A blest estate when piety sublime
These humble props disdained not! O green dales!
Sad may I be who heard your sabbath chime
When Art's abused inventions were unknown;
Kind Nature's various wealth was all your own;
And benefits were weighed in Reason's scales!
VARIANTS:
[380] 1819.
ms.
Written on Easter Sunday.
[381] 1819.
ms.
Her Husband's . . .
[382] 1819.
ms.
Which she had spun—culling . . .
The following (incomplete) version of this Easter Sunday sonnet exists in MS.:—