No More Learning

He swells his lifted chest, and backward flings
His bridling neck between his tow'ring wings;
Stately, and burning in his pride, divides
And glorying looks around, the silent tides:
On as he floats, the silver'd waters glow,
Proud of the varying arch and moveless form of snow. 1793.

. . . his towering wings;
In all the majesty of ease divides, 1815. ]


[Variant 70:

1845.

. . . her beauty's pride
Forgets, unweary'd watching every side,
She calls them near, and with affection sweet
Alternately relieves their weary feet; 1793. ]


[Variant 71:

1836.

Long may ye roam these hermit waves that sleep,
In birch-besprinkl'd cliffs embosom'd deep;
These fairy holms untrodden, still, and green,
Whose shades protect the hidden wave serene;
Whence fragrance scents the water's desart gale,
The violet, and the [iii] lily of the vale; 1793.

Long may ye float upon these floods serene;
Yours be these holms untrodden, still, and green,
Whose leafy shades fence off the blustering gale,
Where breathes in peace the lily of the vale. 1827. ]


[Variant 72:

1820.

Where, tho' her far-off twilight ditty steal,
They not the trip of harmless milkmaid feel. 1793. ]


[Variant 73:

1836.

Yon tuft conceals your home, your cottage bow'r.
Fresh water rushes strew the verdant floor; 1793.

Yon isle conceals . . . 1820. ]


[Variant 74:

1836.

Thence issuing oft, unwieldly as ye stalk,
Ye crush with broad black feet your flow'ry walk; 1793.

Thence issuing often with unwieldly stalk,
With broad black feet ye crush your flow'ry walk; 1820. ]


[Variant 75:

1820.

Safe from your door ye hear at breezy morn, 1793. ]


[Variant 76:

1836.

. . . and mellow horn;
At peace inverted your lithe necks ye lave,
With the green bottom strewing o'er the wave;
No ruder sound your desart haunts invades,
Than waters dashing wild, or rocking shades.
Ye ne'er, like hapless human wanderers, throw
Your young on winter's winding sheet of snow. 1793.

. . . and mellow horn;
Involve your serpent necks in changeful rings,
Rolled wantonly between your slippery wings,
Or, starting up with noise and rude delight,
Force half upon the wave your cumbrous flight. 1820. ]


[Variant 77:

1836.

Fair Swan! by all a mother's joys caress'd,
Haply some wretch has ey'd, and call'd thee bless'd;
Who faint, and beat by summer's breathless ray,
Hath dragg'd her babes along this weary way;
While arrowy fire extorting feverish groans
Shot stinging through her stark o'er labour'd bones.
--With backward gaze, lock'd joints, and step of pain,
Her seat scarce left, she strives, alas! in vain,
To teach their limbs along the burning road
A few short steps to totter with their load,
Shakes her numb arm that slumbers with its weight,
And eyes through tears the mountain's shadeless height;
And bids her soldier come her woes to share,
Asleep on Bunker's [iv] charnel hill afar;
For hope's deserted well why wistful look?
Chok'd is the pathway, and the pitcher broke. 1793.

In 1793 this passage occupied the place of the six lines of the final
text (250-255).


. . . and called thee bless'd;
The whilst upon some sultry summer's day
She dragged her babes along this weary way;
Or taught their limbs along the burning road
A few short steps to totter with their load. 1820.

The while . . . 1832. ]


[Variant 78:

1845.

. . . a shooting star . . . 1793. ]


[Variant 79:

1845.

I hear, while in the forest depth he sees,
The Moon's fix'd gaze between the opening trees,
In broken sounds her elder grief demand,
And skyward lift, like one that prays, his hand,
If, in that country, where he dwells afar,
His father views that good, that kindly star;
--Ah me! all light is mute amid the gloom,
The interlunar cavern of the tomb. 1793-1832.

In broken sounds her elder child demand,
While toward the sky he lifts his pale bright hand, 1836.

--Alas! all light . . . 1836.

Those eight lines were withdrawn in 1845. ]


[Variant 80:

1836.

. . . painful . . . 1793. ]


[Variant 81:

1820.

The distant clock forgot, and chilling dew,
Pleas'd thro' the dusk their breaking smiles to view,

Only in the edition of 1793. ]


[Variant 82:

1836.

. . . on her lap to play
Delighted, with the glow-worm's harmless ray
Toss'd light from hand to hand; while on the ground
Small circles of green radiance gleam around. 1793. ]


[Variant 83:

1836.

Oh! when the bitter showers her path assail,
And roars between the hills the torrent gale, 1793.

. . . sleety showers . . . 1827. ]


[Variant 84:

1827.

Scarce heard, their chattering lips her shoulder chill,
And her cold back their colder bosoms thrill;
All blind she wilders o'er the lightless heath,
Led by Fear's cold wet hand, and dogg'd by Death;
Death, as she turns her neck the kiss to seek,
Breaks off the dreadful kiss with angry shriek.
Snatch'd from her shoulder with despairing moan,
She clasps them at that dim-seen roofless stone. --
"Now ruthless Tempest launch thy deadliest dart!
Fall fires--but let us perish heart to heart. " 1793.

The first, third, and fourth of these couplets were omitted
from the edition of 1820. The whole passage was withdrawn in
1827. ]


[Variant 85:

1820.

Soon shall the Light'ning hold before thy head
His torch, and shew them slumbering in their bed,

Only in the edition of 1793. ]


[Variant 86:

1820.

While, by the scene compos'd, the breast subsides,
Nought wakens or disturbs it's tranquil tides;
Nought but the char that for the may-fly leaps,
And breaks the mirror of the circling deeps;
Or clock, that blind against the wanderer born
Drops at his feet, and stills his droning horn.
--The whistling swain that plods his ringing way
Where the slow waggon winds along the bay;
The sugh [v] of swallow flocks that twittering sweep,
The solemn curfew swinging long and deep;
The talking boat that moves with pensive sound,
Or drops his anchor down with plunge profound;
Of boys that bathe remote the faint uproar,
And restless piper wearying out the shore;
These all to swell the village murmurs blend,
That soften'd from the water-head descend.
While in sweet cadence rising small and still
The far-off minstrels of the haunted hill,
As the last bleating of the fold expires,
Tune in the mountain dells their water lyres.

Only in the edition of 1793. ]


[Variant 87:

1845.

. . . of the night; 1793. ]


[Variant 88:

1815.

Thence, from three paly loopholes mild and small,
Slow lights upon the lake's still bosom fall, 1793. ]


[Variant 89:

1827.

Beyond the mountain's giant reach that hides
In deep determin'd gloom his subject tides.
--Mid the dark steeps repose the shadowy streams,
As touch'd with dawning moonlight's hoary gleams,
Long streaks of fairy light the wave illume
With bordering lines of intervening gloom, 1793.

The second and third of these couplets were cancelled in the edition of
1815, and the whole passage was withdrawn in 1827. ]


[Variant 90:

1836.

Soft o'er the surface creep the lustres pale
Tracking with silvering path the changeful gale. 1793.

. . . those lustres pale
Tracking the fitful motions of the gale. 1815. ]


[Variant 91:

1815.

--'Tis restless magic all; at once the bright [vi]
Breaks on the shade, the shade upon the light,
Fair Spirits are abroad; in sportive chase
Brushing with lucid wands the water's face,
While music stealing round the glimmering deeps
Charms the tall circle of th' enchanted steeps.
--As thro' th' astonished woods the notes ascend,
The mountain streams their rising song suspend;
Below Eve's listening Star, the sheep walk stills
It's drowsy tinklings on th' attentive hills;
The milkmaid stops her ballad, and her pail
Stays it's low murmur in th' unbreathing vale;
No night-duck clamours for his wilder'd mate,
Aw'd, while below the Genii hold their state.
--The pomp is fled, and mute the wondrous strains,
No wrack of all the pageant scene remains,
[vii] So vanish those fair Shadows, human Joys,
But Death alone their vain regret destroys.
Unheeded Night has overcome the vales,
On the dark earth the baffl'd vision fails,
If peep between the clouds a star on high,
There turns for glad repose the weary eye;
The latest lingerer of the forest train,
The lone-black fir, forsakes the faded plain;
Last evening sight, the cottage smoke no more,
Lost in the deepen'd darkness, glimmers hoar;
High towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,
Like a black wall, the mountain steeps appear,
Thence red from different heights with restless gleam
Small cottage lights across the water stream,
Nought else of man or life remains behind
To call from other worlds the wilder'd mind,
Till pours the wakeful bird her solemn strains
[viii] Heard by the night-calm of the watry plains.
--No purple prospects now the mind employ
Glowing in golden sunset tints of joy,
But o'er the sooth'd . . .

Only in the edition of 1793. ]


[Variant 92:

1836.

The bird, with fading light who ceas'd to thread
Silent the hedge or steaming rivulet's bed, 1793.

The bird, who ceased, with fading light, to thread 1815. ]


[Variant 93:

1836.

Salute with boding note the rising moon,
Frosting with hoary light the pearly ground,
And pouring deeper blue to Aether's bound;
Rejoic'd her solemn pomp of clouds to fold
In robes of azure, fleecy white, and gold,
While rose and poppy, as the glow-worm fades,
Checquer with paler red the thicket shades. 1793.


The last two lines occur only in the edition of 1793.

And pleased her solemn pomp of clouds to fold 1815. ]


[Variant 94:

1836.

Now o'er the eastern hill, . . . 1793.

See, o'er . . . 1815. ]


[Variant 95:

1836.

She lifts in silence up her lovely face; 1793. ]


[Variant 96:

1836.

Above . . . 1793. ]


[Variant 97:

1815.

. . . silvery . . . 1793. ]


[Variant 98:

1815.

. . . golden . . . 1793. ]


[Variant 99:

1836.

The deepest dell the mountain's breast displays, 1793.

. . . the mountain's front . . . 1820. ]


[Variant 100:

1836.

The scene is waken'd, yet its peace unbroke,
By silver'd wreaths of quiet charcoal smoke,
That, o'er the ruins of the fallen wood,
Steal down the hills, and spread along the flood. 1793. ]



[Variant 101:

1836.
All air is, as the sleeping water, still,
List'ning th' aereal music of the hill, 1793.

Air listens, as the sleeping water still,
To catch the spiritual music of the hill, 1832. ]


[Variant 102:

1836.

Soon follow'd by his hollow-parting oar,
And echo'd hoof approaching the far shore; 1793. ]


[Variant 103:

1836.

. . . the feeding . . . 1793. ]


[Variant 104:

1836.

The tremulous sob of the complaining owl; 1793. ]


* * * * *


FOOTNOTES ON VARIANTS (Sub-Footnotes)


[Sub-Footnote i: These rude structures, to protect the flocks, are
frequent in this country: the traveller may recollect one in Withburne,
another upon Whinlatter. --W. W. 1793. ]


[Sub-Footnote ii: Not far from Broughton is a Druid monument, of which I
do not recollect that any tour descriptive of this country makes
mention. Perhaps this poem may fall into the hands of some curious
traveller, who may thank me for informing him, that up the Duddon, the
river which forms the aestuary at Broughton, may be found some of the
most romantic scenery of these mountains. --W. W. 1793.

This circle is at the top of Swinside, a glen about four miles from
Broughton. It consists of 50 stones, 90 yards in circumference; and is
on the fell, which is part of the range terminating in Black
Combe. --Ed. ]


[Sub-Footnote iii: The lily of the valley is found in great abundance in
the smaller islands of Winandermere. --W. W. 1793. ]


[Sub-Footnote iv: In the 1793 edition this line reads "Asleep on
Minden's charnel plain afar. " The 'errata', list inserted in some copies
of that edition gives "Bunker's charnel hill. "--Ed. ]


[Sub-Footnote v: Sugh, a Scotch word, expressive, as Mr. Gilpin explains
it, of the sound of the motion of a stick through the air, or of the
wind passing through the trees. See Burns' 'Cottar's Saturday
Night'. --W. W. 1793.

The line is in stanza ii. , l. 1:

November chill blaws loud, wi' angry sugh. --Ed. ]


[Sub-Footnote vi: This long passage occupies, in the edition of 1793,
the place of lines 297-314 in the final text given above. --Ed. ]


[Sub-Footnote vii:

"So break those glittering shadows, human joys"

(YOUNG). --W. W. 1793.

The line occurs 'Night V, The Complaint', l. 1042, or l. 27 from the
end. --Ed. ]


[Sub-Footnote viii:

"Charming the night-calm with her powerful song. "

A line of one of our older poets. --W. W. 1793.

This line I have been unable to discover, but see Webster and Dekker in
'Westward Hoe', iv. c.

"Charms with her excellent voice an awful silence through all this
building. "

Ed. ]



* * * * *


FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT


[Footnote A: See note to the "Juvenile Pieces" in the edition of 1836
(p. 1). --Ed. ]


[Footnote B: It may not be irrelevant to mention that our late poet,
Robert Browning, besought me--both in conversation, and by letter--to
restore this "discarded" picture, in editing 'Dion'. --Ed. ]


[Footnote C: These lines are only applicable to the middle part of that
lake. --W. W. 1793. ]


[Footnote D: In the beginning of winter, these mountains, in the
moonlight nights, are covered with immense quantities of woodcocks;
which, in the dark nights, retire into the woods. --W. W. 1793. ]


[Footnote E: The word 'intake' is local, and signifies a
mountain-inclosure. --W. W. 1793. ]


[Footnote F: Gill is also, I believe, a term confined to this country.
Glen, gill, and dingle, have the same meaning. --W. W. 1793.

The spelling "Ghyll" is first used in the edition of 1820 in the text.
In the note to that edition it remains "gill". In 1827 the spelling in
the note was "ghyll. "--Ed. ]


[Footnote G: Compare Dr. John Brown:

Not a passing breeze
Sigh'd to the grove, which in the midnight air
Stood motionless, and in the peaceful floods
Inverted hung.

and see note A to page 31. --Ed. [Footnote U of this poem]]


[Footnote H: This line was first inserted in the edition of 1845. In the
following line, the edition of 1793 has

Save that, atop, the subtle . . .

Subsequent editions previous to 1845 have

Save that aloft . . .

Ed. ]


[Footnote J: The reader, who has made the tour of this country, will
recognize, in this description, the features which characterize the
lower waterfall in the gardens of Rydale. --W. W. 1793. ]


[Footnote K:

"Vivid rings of green. "

Greenwood's Poem on Shooting. --W. W. 1793.

The title is 'A Poem written during a Shooting Excursion on the Moors'.
It was published by Cruttwell at Bath in 1787, 4to, pp. 25. The
quotation is from stanza xvi. , l. 11. --Ed. ]


[Footnote L:

"Down the rough slope the pondrous waggon rings. "

BEATTIE. --W. W.

1793. See 'The Minstrel', stanza xxxix. , l. 4. --Ed. ]


[Footnote M:

"Dolcemente feroce. "

TASSO. In this description of the cock, I remembered a spirited one of
the same animal in the 'L'Agriculture ou Les Georgiques Francoises', of
M. Rossuet. --W. W. 1793. ]


[Footnote N: I am unable to trace this quotation. --Ed. ]


[Footnote P: From Thomson: see Scott's 'Critical Essays'. --W. W. 1793.

It is difficult to know to what Wordsworth here alludes, but compare
'The Seasons', "Summer," l. 1467.

and now a golden curve,
Gives one bright glance, then total disappears. --Ed. ]


[Footnote Q: See a description of an appearance of this kind in Clark's
'Survey of the Lakes', accompanied with vouchers of its veracity, that
may amuse the reader. --W. W. 1793.

The passage in Clark's folio volume, 'A Survey of the Lakes', etc. ,
which suggested to Wordsworth the above lines in the 'Evening Walk', is
to be found in chapter i. of the second book, p. 55. It gives a weird
account of the appearance of horsemen being exercised in troops upon

"Southen-fell side, as seen on the 25th of June 1744 by William
Lancaster of Blakehills, and a farm servant, David Strichet:

"These visionary horsemen seemed to come from the lowest part of
Southen-fell, and became visible just at a place called Knott. They
then moved in regular troops along the side of the fell, till they
came opposite Blakehills, when they went over the mountain. Then they
described a kind of curvilinear path upon the side of the fell, and
both these first and last appearances were bounded by the top of the
mountain.

"Frequently the last, or last but one, in a troop would leave his
place, and gallop to the front, and then take the same pace with the
rest--a regular swift walk. Thus changes happened to every troop (for
many troops appeared) and oftener than once or twice, yet not at all
times alike. . . . Nor was this phenomenon seen at Blakehill only, it was
seen by every person at every cottage within the distance of a mile.
Neither was it confined to a momentary view, for from the time that
Strichet first observed it, the appearance must have lasted at least
two hours and a half, viz. from half past seven till the night coming
on prevented further view. "

This interesting optical illusion--which suggests the wonderful island
in the Atlantic, seen from the isles of Aran near Galway, alluded to in
the 'Chorographical description of West, or H-Ier-Connaught', of R.
O'Flaherty--was caused by the peculiar angle of the light from the
setting sun, the reflection of the water of the Solway, and the
refraction of the vapour and clouds above the Solway. These aerial and
visionary horsemen were being exercised somewhere above the
Kirkcudbright shore. It was not the first time the phenomenon had been
seen within historic times, on the same fell-side, and at the same time
of year. Canon Rawnsley writes to me,

"I have an idea that the fact that it took place at midsummer eve
(June 27), the eve of the Feast of St. John, upon which occasion the
shepherds hereabout used to light bonfires on the hills (no doubt a
relic of the custom of the Beltane fires of old Norse days, perhaps of
earlier sun-worship festivals of British times), may have had
something to do with the naming of the mountain Blencathara of which
Southen-fell (or Shepherd's-fell, as the name implies) is part.
Blencathara, we are told, may mean the Hill of Demons, or the haunted
hill. My suggestion is that the old sun-worshippers, who met in
midsummer eve on Castrigg at the Druid circle or Donn-ring, saw just
the same phenomenon as Strichet and Lancaster saw upon Southen-fell,
and hence the name. Nay, perhaps the Druid circle was built where it
is, because it was well in view of the Demon Hill. "

Ed. ]


[Footnote R: This is a fact of which I have been an eye-witness. --W. W.
1793. ]


[Footnote S: The quotation is from Collins' 'The Passions', l. 60.
Compare 'Personal Talk', l. 26. --Ed. ]


[Footnote T: Alluding to this passage of Spenser:

. . . Her angel face
As the great eye of Heaven shined bright,
And made a sunshine in that shady place. W. W. 1793.

This passage is in 'The Fairy Queen', book I. canto iii. stanza 4. --Ed. ]


[Footnote U: Compare Dr. John Brown:

But the soft murmur of swift-gushing rills,
Forth issuing from the mountain's distant steep
(Unheard till now, and now scarce heard), proclaim'd
All things at rest.

This Dr. John Brown--a singularly versatile English divine
(1717-1766)--was one of the first, as Wordsworth pointed put, to lead
the way to a true estimate of the English Lakes. His description of the
Vale of Keswick, in a letter to a friend, is as fine as anything in
Gray's 'Journal'. Wordsworth himself quotes the lines given in this
footnote in the first section of his 'Guide through the District of the
Lakes'. --Ed. ]





* * * * *





LINES WRITTEN WHILE SAILING IN A BOAT AT EVENING


Composed 1789. --Published 1798


[This title is scarcely correct. It was during a solitary walk on the
banks of the Cam that I was first struck with this appearance, and
applied it to my own feelings in the manner here expressed, changing
the scene to the Thames, near Windsor.