167. *View from the Top of Black Comb. [XXXVIII.]
1813. Mary and I, as mentioned in the Epistle to Sir G. Beaumont, lived some time under its shadow.
168. *The Haunted Tree. [XXXIX.]
1819. This tree grew in the park of Rydal, and I have often listened to its creaking as described.
169. *The Triad. [XL.]
'Rydal Mount, 1828. The girls Edith Mary Southey, my daughter Dora, and Sarah Coleridge.' More fully on this and others contemporaneously written, is the following letter:
To G.H. GORDON, ESQ.
Rydal Mount, Dec. 15, 1828.
How strange that any one should be puzzled with the name 'Triad' after reading the poem! I have turned to Dr. Johnson, and there find 'Triad, three united,' and not a word more, as nothing more was needed. I should have been rather mortified if you had not liked the piece, as I think it contains some of the happiest verses I ever wrote. It had been promised several years to two of the party before a fancy fit for the performance struck me; it was then thrown off rapidly, and afterwards revised with care. During the last week I wrote some stanzas on the Power of Sound, which ought to find a place in my larger work if aught should ever come of that.
In the book on the Lakes, which I have not at hand, is a passage rather too vaguely expressed, where I content myself with saying, that after a certain point of elevation the effect of mountains depends much more upon their form than upon their absolute height. This point, which ought to have been defined, is the one to which fleecy clouds (not thin watery vapours) are accustomed to descend. I am glad you are so much interested with this little tract; it could not have been written without long experience.
I remain, most faithfully,
Your much obliged,
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.