"Thursday, Sept. 7. Cadenabbia.—... Nothing could be more lovely than the milder scenes this morning: the little lake Piano: the sunny glades, enlivened by groups of Peasants, gathering in their various harvests, or seated under the shade of some tree taking refreshment, their simple breakfast, a piece of bread and a little fruit; then, the shadows of these trees upon green emerald lawns, between the little lake and that of Lugano, lay more softly than ever shadows rested before, cradled under those stupendous perpendicular barriers. Took boat at Porlezza. Eclipse of the Sun: could bear to look at the orb shorn of his beams, with the naked eye: the effect produced upon the scenery very fine, such a sombre greenness, like the effect of bright moonlight: only under a bright moon that very green colour generally diffused (as if you had on a pair of green spectacles) cannot be. On the right bank of the lake the woods were of a rich golden green, gloomy on the left shore, and looking back among the towering rocks, and black coves, the region was very solemn. The water, unillumined by sunshine, was of what I should call a sad green: the air cooler, indeed a coolish air gently agitated the lake, while the eclipse lasted. We congratulated ourselves in being undesignedly, and indeed unexpectedly, in so grand a situation to witness this phenomenon." (Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)
As reference is made in the poem to "Milan's loftiest spire," and its "Figures human and divine," the following extracts from the two Journals may be given in illustration:—"Sept. 2. Milan."—"The cathedral we have thoroughly seen this morning. It is a grand and imposing Edifice—we have been delighted both with the building, and with the material especially, all marble of the finest kind. 3000 statues of beautiful polished white marble are stationed upon this elegant Pile. We were upon the very top; the pinnacle so light, yet notwithstanding the height, and its slender appearance, feeling yourself perfectly secure.... The view of the Cathedral itself from this station is extraordinary; the pure graceful figures, streaming far before you, have a most interesting and curious effect; and, from the lower roofs also, you have many fine combinations." (Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)
"Saturday, 1st September. Milan.—Our object this morning was to ascend to the roof, where I remained alone, not venturing to follow the rest of the party to the top of the giddy, central spire, which is ascended by a narrow staircase twisted round the outside. Even W. was obliged to trust to a hand governed by a steadier head than his own. I wandered about, with space spread around me (on the roof on which I trod), for streets and even squares of no very diminutive Town. The floor on which I trod was all of polished marble, intensely hot, and as dazzling as snow; and instead of moving figures I was surrounded by groups and stationary processions of silent statues—saints, sages, and angels. It is impossible for me to describe the beautiful spectacle, or to give a notion of the delight I felt; therefore I will copy a sketch in verse composed from my Brother's recollections of the view from the central Spire." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. ii.)
Henry Crabb Robinson wrote thus of these memorial stanzas:—"Of the stanzas, I love most—loving all—'The Eclipse of the Sun.'" (Diary, etc., vol. ii. p. 224.)—Ed.
VARIANTS:
[528] 1827.
1822.
1821.
[529] 1827.