GEORGE AND SARAH GREEN
Composed 1808.—Published 1839
This poem was first printed in De Quincey’s “Recollections of Grasmere,” which appeared in Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine, September 1839, p. 573, and afterwards in his Recollections of the Lakes (1853), p. 23.
The text is printed as it is found in De Quincey’s article. Doubtless Wordsworth, or some member of the family, had supplied him with a copy of these verses. Wordsworth himself seemed to have thought them unworthy of publication. A copy of the poem was transcribed at Grasmere by Dorothy Wordsworth for Lady Beaumont on the 20th April 1808. In this copy there are numerous variations from the text as published by De Quincey, and these are indicated in the footnotes. In the letter to Lady Beaumont, Dorothy Wordsworth says, “I am going to transcribe a poem composed by my brother a few days after his return. It was begun in the churchyard when he was looking at the grave of the Husband and Wife, and is in fact supposed to be entirely composed there.”
Wordsworth returned to his old home at Dove Cottage, Grasmere, after a short visit to London, on the 6th April 1808; and there he remained, till Allan Bank was ready for occupation. I therefore conclude that this poem was written in April 1808.
Compare De Quincey’s account of the disaster that befell the Greens, as reported in his Early Recollections of Grasmere. The Wordsworths had evidently taken part in the effort to raise subscriptions in behalf of the orphan children. They issued a printed appeal on the subject. The following is an extract from a letter of Dorothy Wordsworth’s to Lady Beaumont on the subject:—
“Grasmere, April 20th, 1808.
“We received your letter this morning, enclosing the half of a £5 note. I am happy to inform you that the orphans have been fixed under the care of very respectable people. The baby is with its sister—she who filled the Mother’s place in the house during their two days of fearless solitude. It has clung to her ever since, and she has been its sole nurse. I went with two ladies of the Committee (in my sister’s place, who was then confined to poor John’s bedside) to conduct the family to their separate homes. The two Girls are together, as I have said; two Boys at another Home; and the third Boy by himself at the house of an elderly man who had a particular friendship for their father. The kind reception that the children met with was very affecting.”
See the letters from Wordsworth to Richard Sharpe, Esq., Mark Lane, London, in a subsequent volume, referring to the catastrophe.—Ed.
Who weeps for strangers? Many wept
For George and Sarah Green;
Wept for that pair’s unhappy fate,
Whose grave may here be seen.[377]
By night, upon these stormy fells,[378] 5
Did wife and husband roam;
Six little ones at home had left,
And could not find that home.[379]
For any dwelling-place of man
As vainly did they seek. 10
He perish’d; and a voice was heard—
The widow’s lonely shriek.[380]
Not many steps, and she was left[381]
A body without life—
A few short steps were the chain that bound[382] 15
The husband to the wife.[383]
Now do those[384] sternly-featured hills
Look gently on this grave;
And quiet now are the depths[385] of air,
As a sea without a wave. 20
But deeper lies the heart of peace
In quiet more profound;[386]
The heart of quietness is here
Within this churchyard bound.[387]
And from all agony of mind 25
It keeps them safe, and far
From fear and grief, and from all need
Of sun or guiding star.[388]
O darkness of the grave! how deep,[389]
After that living night— 30
That last and dreary living one
Of sorrow and affright!
O sacred marriage-bed of death,
That keeps[390] them side by side
In bond of peace, in bond of love,[391] 35
That may not be untied!
[377] 1839.
Wept for that Pair’s unhappy end,
Whose Grave may here be seen.
MS. letter of Dorothy Wordsworth’s.
[378] 1839.
… these stormy Heights,
MS.
[379] 1839.
Six little ones the Pair had left,
And could not find their home.
MS.
[380] 1839.
Down the dark precipice he fell,
And she was left alone,
Not long to think of her children dear,
Not long to pray, or groan.
Added in MS.
[381] 1839.
A few wild steps—she too was left,
MS.
[382] 1839.
The chain of but a few wild steps.
MS. in Dorothy Wordsworth’s handwriting—sent to Lady Beaumont.
[383] 1839.
Four stanzas are here added in MS., only one of which need be given—
Our peace is of the immortal soul,
Our anguish is of clay;
Such bounty is in Heaven: so pass
The bitterest pangs away.
[384] 1839.
Now do the …
MS.
[385] 1839.
… is the depth …
MS.
[386] 1839.
In shelter more profound.
MS.
[387] 1839.
… ground.
MS.
[388] 1839.
From fear, and from all need of hope
From sun or guiding star.
MS.
[389] 1839.
… how calm,
MS.
[390] 1839.
That holds …
MS.
[391] 1839.
In bond of love, in bond of God,
MS.