“WHILE BEAMS OF ORIENT LIGHT SHOOT WIDE AND HIGH”
Composed 1st January 1843.—Published 1845
One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”—Ed.
While beams of orient light shoot wide and high,
Deep in the vale a little rural Town[266]
Breathes forth a cloud-like creature of its own,
That mounts not toward the radiant morning sky,
But, with a less ambitious sympathy, 5
Hangs o’er its Parent waking to the cares
Troubles and toils that every day prepares.
So Fancy, to the musing Poet’s eye,
Endears that Lingerer. And how blest her sway[267]
(Like influence never may my soul reject)[268] 10
If the calm Heaven, now to its zenith decked[269]
With glorious forms in numberless array,
To the lone shepherd on the hills disclose
Gleams from[270] a world in which the saints repose.
Jan. 1, 1843.
[266] Ambleside.—W.W. 1845.
[267] 1845.
… And blessed be her sway
MS.
So Fancy charms the musing Poet’s eye
Fixed on that Lingerer …
C.
[268] 1845.
Ne’er may my soul like influence reject.
MS.†
[269] 1845.
Endear that Lingerer. And how blest her sway,
The faith how pure and holy in effect,
If the calm Heavens, now to their summit decked
MS.†
… of …
MS.†
† These MS. variants occur in a copy of the sonnet written by Wordsworth for Mrs. Arnold at Foxhowe.
INSCRIPTION
For a Monument in Crosthwaite Church, in the Vale of Keswick
Composed 1843.—Published 1845
One of the “Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces.”—Ed.
Ye vales and hills whose beauty hither drew
The poet’s steps, and fixed him here, on you,
His eyes have closed! And ye, lov’d books, no more
Shall Southey feed upon your precious lore,
To works that ne’er shall forfeit their renown 5
Adding immortal labours of his own—
Whether he traced historic truth, with zeal
For the State’s guidance, or the Church’s weal,
Or Fancy, disciplined by studious art,
Inform’d his pen, or wisdom of the heart, 10
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.
Wide were his aims, yet in no human breast
Could private feelings meet for holier rest.
His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud 15
From Skiddaw’s top; but he to heaven was vowed
Through his industrious life, and Christian faith
Calmed in his soul the fear of change and death.
I received, from the late Lord Coleridge, the following extracts from letters written by Wordsworth to his father, the Hon. Justice Coleridge, in reference to the Southey Inscription in Crosthwaite Church. Wordsworth seems to have submitted the proposed Inscription to Mr. Coleridge’s judgment, and the changes he made upon it, in deference to the opinions he received, shew, as Lord Coleridge says, “the extreme care Wordsworth took to have the substance, and the expression also, as perfect as he could make it.” The original draft of the “Inscription” was as follows:—
Sacred to the Memory of Robert Southey, whose mortal remains are interred in the adjoining Churchyard. He was born at Bristol, October ye 4th, 1774, And died, after a residence of nearly forty years, at Greta Hall in this Parish. March 21st, 1843.
Ye Vales and Hills, whose beauty hither drew
The Poet’s steps, and fixed him here, on you
His eyes have closed; and ye, loved Books, no more
Shall Southey feed upon your precious lore,
To Works that ne’er shall forfeit their renown
Adding immortal labours of his own,
As Fancy, disciplined by studious Art
Informed his pen, or Wisdom of the heart,
Or judgments rooted in a Patriot’s mind
Taught to revere the rights of all mankind.
Friends, Family—ah wherefore touch that string,
To them so fondly did the good man cling!
His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud
From Skiddaw’s top; but He to Heaven was vowed
Through a long life; and calmed by Christian faith,
In his pure soul, the fear of change and death.
This Memorial was erected by friends of Robert Southey.
Alteration in the Epitaph—
… He to Heaven was vowed
Through a life long and pure; and Christian faith
Calmed in his soul the fear of change and death.—W.W.
December the 6th.
My dear Mr. Justice Coleridge,
Notwithstanding what I have written before, I could not but wish to meet your wishes upon the points which you mentioned, and, accordingly, have added and altered as on the other side of this paper. If you approve don’t trouble yourself to answer.
Ever faithfully yours,
W. Wordsworth.
Ye torrents, foaming down the rocky steeps,
Ye lakes, wherein the spirit of water sleeps,
Ye vales and hills, etc.
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.
Friends, Family—within no human breast
Could private feelings need a holier nest.
His joys, his griefs, have vanished.
These alterations are approved of by friends here, and I hope will please you.
My dear Mr. Justice Coleridge,
Pray accept my thanks for the pains you have taken with the Inscription, and excuse the few words I shall have to say upon your remarks. There are two lakes in the Vale of Keswick; both which, along with the lateral Vale of Newlands immediately opposite Southey’s study window, will be included in the words “Ye Vales and Hills” by everyone who is familiar with the neighbourhood.
I quite agree with you that the construction of the lines that particularize his writings is rendered awkward by so many participles passive, and the more so on account of the transitive verb informed. One of these participles may be got rid of, and, I think, a better couplet produced by this alteration—
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.
As I have entered into particulars as to the character of S.’s writings, and they are so various, I thought his historic works ought by no means to be omitted, and therefore, though unwilling to lengthen the Epitaph, I added the two following—
… Labours of his own,
Whether he traced historic truth with zeal
For the State’s guidance, or the Church’s weal,
Or Fancy, disciplined by studious Art,
Informed his pen, or wisdom of the heart,
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.
I do not feel with you in respect to the word “so”; it refers, of course, to the preceding line, and as the reference is to fireside feelings and intimate friends, there appears to me a propriety in an expression inclining to the colloquial. The couplet was the dictate of my own feelings, and the construction is accordingly broken and rather dramatic,—but too much of this. If you have any objection to the couplet as altered, be so kind as let me know; if not, on no account trouble yourself to answer this letter.
Prematurely I object to as you do. I used the word with reference to that decay of faculties which is not uncommon in advanced life, and which often leads to dotage,—but the word must not be retained.
We regret much to hear that Lady Coleridge is unwell, pray present to her our best wishes.
What could induce the Bishop of London to forbid the choral service at St. Mark’s? It was in execution, I understand, above all praise.
Ever most faithfully yours,
W. Wordsworth.
December 2nd, ’43.
My dear Mr. Justice Coleridge,
The first line would certainly have more spirit by reading “your” as you suggest. I had previously considered that; but decided in favour of “the,” as “your,” I thought, would clog the sentence in sound, there being “ye” thrice repeated, and followed by “you” at the close of the 4th line. I also thought that “your” would interfere with the application of “you” at the end of the fourth line, to the whole of the particular previous images as I intended it to do. But I don’t trouble you with this Letter on that account, but merely to ask you whether the couplet now standing:—
Large were his aims, yet in no human breast
Could private feelings find a holier nest,
would not be better thus
Could private feelings meet in holier rest.
This alteration does not quite satisfy me, but I can do no better. The word “nest” both in itself and in conjunction with “holier” seems to me somewhat bold and rather startling for marble, particularly in a Church. I should not have thought of any alteration in a merely printed poem, but this makes a difference. If you think the proposed alteration better, don’t trouble yourself to answer this; if not, pray be so kind as to tell me so by a single line. I would not on any account have trespassed on your time but for this public occasion. We are sorry to hear of Lady Coleridge’s indisposition; pray present to her our kind regards and best wishes for her recovery, united with the greetings of the season both for her and yourself, and believe me faithfully,
Your obliged,
Wm. Wordsworth.
Rydal Mount, December 23rd, ’43.
To the Memory of Robert Southey, a Man eminent for genius, versatile talents, extensive and accurate knowledge, and habits of the most conscientious industry. Nor was he less distinguished for strict temperance, pure benevolence, and warm affections; but his Mind, such are the awful dispensations of Providence, was prematurely and almost totally obscured by a slowly-working and inscrutable malady under which he languished until released by death in the 69th year of his age.
Reader! ponder the condition to which this great and good Man, not without merciful alleviations, was doomed, and learn from his example to make timely use of thy endowments and opportunities, and to walk humbly with thy God.
COPY OF THE PRINTED INSCRIPTION
Sacred to the Memory of Robert Southey, whose mortal remains are interred in the adjoining churchyard. He was born at Bristol, October 4th, 1774, and died after a residence of nearly 40 years at Greta Hall, in this Parish, March 21st, 1843.
Ye torrents, foaming down the rocky steeps,
Ye lakes, wherein the spirit of water sleeps,
Ye vales and hills, whose beauty hither drew
The Poet’s steps and fixed him here, on you
His eyes have closed! and ye, loved books, no more
Shall Southey feed upon your precious lore,
To works that ne’er shall forfeit their renown
Adding immortal labours of his own—
Whether he traced historic truth, with zeal
For the State’s guidance or the Church’s weal,
Or Fancy, disciplined by studious art,
Informed his pen, or wisdom of the heart,
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.
Wide were his aims, yet in no human breast
Could private feelings find a holier nest.
His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud
From Skiddaw’s top; but he to Heaven was vowed
Through a long life, and calmed by Christian faith,
In his pure soul, the fear of change and death.
This Memorial was erected by friends of Robert Southey.
Edward Quillinan wrote, 25th March 1843, “Yesterday I drove Mr. Wordsworth early over to Keswick, that he and I might attend the funeral of Mr. Southey, who was buried in Crosthwaite churchyard there at eleven A.M. It was very affecting to see Kate Southey with her brother Cuthbert, and brother-in-law Herbert Hill, at her father’s grave as the coffin was lowered into it. She looked as if she yearned to be there too. She says she has now got her father back again.”—Ed.
TO THE REV. CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D., MASTER OF HARROW SCHOOL[271]
After the perusal of his Theophilus Anglicanus, recently published.
Composed 1843.—Published 1845
One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”—Ed.
Enlightened Teacher, gladly from thy hand
Have I received this proof of pains bestowed
By Thee to guide thy Pupils on the road
That, in our native isle, and every land,
The Church, when trusting in divine command 5
And in her Catholic attributes, hath trod:
O may these lessons be with profit scanned
To thy heart’s wish, thy labour blest by God!
So the bright faces of the young and gay
Shall look more bright—the happy, happier still; 10
Catch, in the pauses of their keenest play,
Motions of thought which elevate the will
And, like the Spire that from your classic Hill
Points heavenward, indicate the end and way.
Rydal Mount, Dec. 11, 1843.
[271] The poet’s nephew, afterwards Canon of Westminster, and Bishop of Lincoln, and the biographer of his uncle.—Ed.