The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
Chapter 274 : 1815.... laughing ... 1807.]The following is from Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, u

1815.

... laughing ... 1807.]

The following is from Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, under date, Thursday, April 15, 1802:

"When we were in the woods beyond Gowbarrow Park, we saw a few daffodils close to the water side. We fancied that the sea had floated the seeds ash.o.r.e, and that the little colony had so sprung up. But as we went along there were more, and yet more; and, at last, under the boughs of the trees, we saw that there was a long belt of them along the sh.o.r.e, about the breadth of a country turnpike road. I never saw daffodils so beautiful. They grew among the mossy stones, about and above them; some rested their heads upon these stones, as on a pillow for weariness; and the rest tossed and reeled and danced, and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the lake. They looked so gay, ever glancing, ever changing. This wind blew directly over the lake to them. There was here and there a little knot, and a few stragglers higher up; but they were so few as not to disturb the simplicity, unity, and life of that one busy highway. We rested again and again. The bays were stormy, and we heard the waves at different distances, and in the middle of the water, like the sea...."

In the edition of 1815 there is a footnote to the lines

'They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude'

to the following effect:

"The subject of these Stanzas is rather an elementary feeling and simple impression (approaching to the nature of an ocular spectrum) upon the imaginative faculty, than an exertion of it. The one which follows [A] is strictly a Reverie; and neither that, nor the next after it in succession, 'Power of Music', would have been placed here except for the reason given in the foregoing note."

The being "placed here" refers to its being included among the "Poems of the Imagination." The "foregoing note" is the note appended to 'The Horn of Egremont Castle'; and the "reason given" in it is "to avoid a needless multiplication of the Cla.s.ses" into which Wordsworth divided his poems. This note of 181? [B], is reprinted mainly to show the difficulties to which Wordsworth was reduced by the artificial method of arrangement referred to. The following letter to Mr. Wrangham is a more appropriate ill.u.s.tration of the poem of "The Daffodils." It was written, the late Bishop of Lincoln says, "sometime afterwards." (See 'Memoirs of Wordsworth', vol. i. pp. 183, 184); and, for the whole of the letter, see a subsequent volume of this edition.

"GRASMERE, Nov. 4.

"MY DEAR WRANGHAM,--I am indeed much pleased that Mrs. Wrangham and yourself have been gratified by these breathings of simple nature. You mention Butler, Montagu's friend; not Tom Butler, but the conveyancer: when I was in town in spring, he happened to see the volumes lying on Montagu's mantelpiece, and to glance his eye upon the very poem of 'The Daffodils.' 'Aye,' says he, 'a fine morsel this for the Reviewers.' When this was told me (for I was not present) I observed that there were 'two lines' in that little poem which, if thoroughly felt, would annihilate nine-tenths of the reviews of the kingdom, as they would find no readers. The lines I alluded to were these:

'They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude.'"

These two lines were composed by Mrs. Wordsworth. In 1877 the daffodils were still growing in abundance on the sh.o.r.e of Ullswater, below Gowbarrow Park.

Compare the last four lines of James Montgomery's poem, 'The Little Cloud':

'Bliss in possession will not last: Remembered joys are never past: At once the fountain, stream, and sea, They were--they are--they yet shall be.'

Ed.

[Footnote A: It was 'The Reverie of Poor Susan'.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: This is an error in the original printed text. Evidently a year before the above-mentioned publication in 1815: one of 1810-1815.

text Ed.]

THE AFFLICTION OF MARGARET--[A]

Composed 1804.--Published 1807

[Written at Town-end, Grasmere. This was taken from the case of a poor widow who lived in the town of Penrith. Her sorrow was well known to Mrs. Wordsworth, to my sister, and, I believe, to the whole town. She kept a shop, and when she saw a stranger pa.s.sing by, she was in the habit of going out into the street to enquire of him after her son.--I. F.]

Included by Wordsworth among his "Poems founded on the Affections."--Ed.

I Where art thou, my beloved Son, Where art thou, worse to me than dead?

Oh find me, prosperous or undone!

Or, if the grave be now thy bed, Why am I ignorant of the same 5 That I may rest; and neither blame Nor sorrow may attend thy name?

II Seven years, alas! to have received No tidings of an only child; To have despaired, have hoped, believed, 10 And been for evermore beguiled; [1]

Sometimes with thoughts of very bliss!

I catch at them, and then I miss; Was ever darkness like to this?

III He was among the prime in worth, 15 An object beauteous to behold; Well born, well bred; I sent him forth Ingenuous, innocent, and bold: If things ensued that wanted grace, As hath been said, they were not base; 20 And never blush was on my face.

IV Ah! little doth the young-one dream, When full of play and childish cares, What power is in [2] his wildest scream, Heard by his mother unawares! 25 He knows it not, he cannot guess: Years to a mother bring distress; But do not make her love the less.

V Neglect me! no, I suffered long From that ill thought; and, being blind, 30 Said, "Pride shall help me in my wrong: Kind mother have I been, as kind As ever breathed:" and that is true; I've wet my path with tears like dew, Weeping for him when no one knew. 35

VI My Son, if thou be humbled, poor, Hopeless of honour and of gain, Oh! do not dread thy mother's door; Think not of me with grief and pain: I now can see with better eyes; 40 And worldly grandeur I despise, And fortune with her gifts and lies.

VII Alas! the fowls of heaven have wings, And blasts of heaven will aid their flight; They mount--how short a voyage brings 45 The wanderers back to their delight!

Chains tie us down by land and sea; And wishes, vain as mine, may be All that is left to comfort thee.

VIII Perhaps some dungeon hears thee groan, 50 Maimed, mangled by inhuman men; Or thou upon a desert thrown Inheritest the lion's den; Or hast been summoned to the deep, Thou, thou and all thy mates, to keep 55 An incommunicable sleep.

IX I look for ghosts; but none will force Their way to me: 'tis falsely said That there was ever intercourse Between [3] the living and the dead; 60 For, surely, then I should have sight Of him I wait for day and night, With love and longings infinite.

X My apprehensions come in crowds; I dread the rustling of the gra.s.s; 65 The very shadows of the clouds Have power to shake me as they pa.s.s: I question things and do not find One that will answer to my mind; And all the world appears unkind. 70

XI Beyond partic.i.p.ation lie My troubles, and beyond relief: If any chance to heave a sigh, They pity me, and not my grief.

Then come to me, my Son, or send 75 Some tidings that my woes may end; I have no other earthly friend!

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT