"THIS LAWN, A CARPET ALL ALIVE"
Composed 1829.—Published 1835
[This Lawn is the sloping one approaching the kitchen-garden, and was made out of it. Hundreds of times have I watched the dancing of shadows amid a press of sunshine, and other beautiful appearances of light and shade, flowers and shrubs. What a contrast between this and the cabbages and onions and carrots that used to grow there on a piece of ugly-shaped unsightly ground! No reflection, however, either upon cabbages or onions; the latter we know were worshipped by the Egyptians, and he must have a poor eye for beauty who has not observed how much of it there is in the form and colour which cabbages and plants of that genus exhibit through the various stages of their growth and decay. A richer display of colour in vegetable nature can scarcely be conceived than Coleridge, my sister, and I saw in a bed of potato-plants in blossom near a hut upon the moor between Inversneyd and Loch Katrine.[638] These blossoms were of such extraordinary beauty and richness that no one could have passed them without notice. But the sense must be cultivated through the mind before we can perceive these inexhaustible treasures of Nature, for such they really are, without the least necessary reference to the utility of her productions, or even to the laws whereupon, as we learn by research, they are dependent. Some are of opinion that the habit of analysing, decomposing, and anatomising, is inevitably unfavourable to the perception of beauty. People are led into this mistake by overlooking the fact that such processes being to a certain extent within the reach of a limited intellect, we are apt to ascribe to them that insensibility of which they are in truth the effect and not the cause. Admiration and love, to which all knowledge truly vital must tend, are felt by men of real genius in proportion as their discoveries in natural Philosophy are enlarged; and the beauty in form of a plant or an animal is not made less but more apparent as a whole by more accurate insight into its constituent properties and powers. A Savant who is not also a poet in soul and a religionist in heart is a feeble and unhappy creature.—I. F.]
One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."—Ed.
This Lawn, a carpet all alive
With shadows flung from leaves—to strive
In dance, amid a press
Of sunshine, an apt emblem yields
Of Worldlings revelling in the fields 5
Of strenuous idleness;[639]
Less quick the stir when tide and breeze
Encounter, and to narrow seas
Forbid a moment's rest;
The medley less when boreal Lights 10
Glance to and fro, like aery Sprites
To feats of arms addrest!
Yet, spite of all this eager strife,
This ceaseless play, the genuine life
That serves the stedfast hours, 15
Is in the grass beneath, that grows
Unheeded, and the mute repose
Of sweetly-breathing flowers.
FOOTNOTES:
[638] In 1803, Miss Wordsworth thus records it:—"We passed by one patch of potatoes that a florist might have been proud of; no carnation-bed ever looked more gay than this square plot of ground on the waste common. The flowers were in very large bunches, and of an extraordinary size, and of every conceivable shade of colouring from snow-white to deep purple. It was pleasing in that place, where perhaps was never yet a flower cultivated by man for his own pleasure, to see these blossoms grow more gladly than elsewhere, making a summer garden near the mountain dwellings." (Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland in 1803, p. [85]).—Ed.
[639] Compare The Prelude, book iv. l. 378.—Ed.
THOUGHTS[640] ON THE SEASONS
Composed 1829.—Published 1835
[Written at Rydal Mount.—I. F.]
One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."—Ed.
Flattered with promise of escape
From every hurtful blast,
Spring takes, O sprightly May! thy shape,
Her loveliest and her last.[641]
Less fair is summer riding high 5
In fierce solstitial power,
Less fair than when a lenient sky
Brings on her parting hour.
When earth repays with golden sheaves
The labours of the plough, 10
And ripening fruits and forest leaves
All brighten on the bough;
What pensive beauty autumn shows,
Before she hears the sound
Of winter rushing in, to close 15
The emblematic round!
Such be our Spring, our Summer such;
So may our Autumn blend
With hoary Winter, and Life touch,
Through heaven-born hope, her end! 20
FOOTNOTES:
[640] 1850.
Thought ... 1835.
The text of 1857 returns to that of 1835.
[641] Compare Ode, composed on May Morning, 1826 (p. [146]); also To May, 1826 (p. [148]).—Ed.
A TRADITION OF OKER HILL IN DARLEY DALE, DERBYSHIRE[642]
Composed 1829.—Published 1829[643]
[This pleasing tradition was told me by the coachman at whose side I sate while he drove down the dale, he pointing to the trees on the hill as he related the story.—I.F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."—Ed.
'Tis said that to the brow of yon fair hill
Two Brothers clomb, and, turning face from face,
Nor one look more exchanging, grief to still
Or feed, each planted on that lofty place
A chosen Tree;[644] then, eager to fulfil 5
Their courses, like two new-born rivers, they
In opposite directions urged their way
Down from the far-seen mount. No blast might kill
Or blight that fond memorial;—the trees grew,
And now entwine their arms; but ne'er again 10
Embraced those Brothers upon earth's wide plain;
Nor aught of mutual joy or sorrow knew
Until their spirits mingled in the sea
That to itself takes all, Eternity.
FOOTNOTES:
[642] 1837.
A Tradition of Darley Dale, Derbyshire. 1832.
[643] In The Keepsake.—Ed.
[644] Mr. T. W. Shore (Southampton), writes to me: "The two trees referred to by the poet are still on the hill, and called the Shore Trees. The family of Shore is an ancient one in Derbyshire, extending back to the reign of Richard II. In the time of Charles I, several members of the family impoverished themselves in support of the Royalist cause.... The trees on Oker Hill are supposed to have been planted by those who remembered the family misfortunes, or who succeeded the family which took part in the 17th century struggle."—Ed.