Thence issuing oft,
unwieldly
as ye stalk,
Ye crush with broad black feet your flow'ry walk; 1793.
Ye crush with broad black feet your flow'ry walk; 1793.
Wordsworth - 1
.
.
1793.
]
[Variant 38:
1836.
Whose state, like pine-trees, waving to and fro,
Droops, and o'er canopies his regal brow,
This couplet was inserted in the editions 1793 to 1832. ]
[Variant 39:
1820.
. . . blows . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 40: This couplet was first printed in the edition of 1820. ]
[Variant 41:
1836.
Bright'ning the cliffs between where sombrous pine,
And yew-trees . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 42:
1836.
How busy the enormous hive within, 1793. ]
[Variant 43:
1836.
. . . with the . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 44:
1836.
Some hardly heard their chissel's clinking sound, 1793. ]
[Variant 45:
1836.
. . . th' aereal . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 46:
1815.
. . . viewless . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 47:
1836.
Glad from their airy baskets hang and sing. 1793. ]
[Variant 48:
1836.
Hung o'er a cloud, above the steep that rears 1793. ]
[Variant 49:
1820.
It's . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 50:
1845.
And now it touches on the purple steep
That flings his shadow on the pictur'd deep. 1793.
That flings its image . . . 1832.
And now the sun has touched the purple steep
Whose softened image penetrates the deep. 1836. ]
[Variant 51:
1836.
The coves . . . 1793]
[Variant 52:
1836.
The gilded turn arrays in richer green
Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between; 1793.
. . . invests with richer green 1820. ]
[Variant 53:
1827.
. . . boles . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 54:
1827.
. . . in . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 55:
1836.
That, barking busy 'mid the glittering rocks,
Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks; 1793. ]
[Variant 56:
1845.
The Druid stones [ii] their lighted fane unfold, 1793.
. . . a burnished ring unfold; 1836. ]
[Variant 57:
1827.
. . . sinks . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 58:
1845.
In these lone vales, if aught of faith may claim,
Thin silver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame;
When up the hills, as now, retreats the light,
Strange apparitions mock the village sight. 1793.
In these secluded vales, if village fame,
Confirmed by silver hairs, belief may claim;
When up the hills, as now, retired the light,
Strange apparitions mocked the gazer's sight. 1820.
. . . shepherd's sight. 1836. ]
[Variant 59:
1836.
A desperate form appears, that spurs his steed,
Along the midway cliffs with violent speed; 1793. ]
[Variant 60:
1836.
Anon, in order mounts a gorgeous show
Of horsemen shadows winding to and fro; 1793. ]
[Variant 61: This line was added in 1820. ]
[Variant 62:
1820.
. . . is gilt with evening's beam, 1793. ]
[Variant 63:
1849.
. . . of the . . . 1836. ]
[Variant 64:
1836.
Lost gradual o'er the heights in pomp they go,
While silent stands th' admiring vale below;
Till, but the lonely beacon all is fled,
That tips with eve's last gleam his spiry head. 1793.
Till, save the lonely beacon, . . . 1820.
In the edition of 1836 the seven lines of the printed
text--205-211--replaced these four lines of the editions 1793-1832. ]
[Variant 65:
1836.
On red slow-waving pinions . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 66:
1820.
And, fronting the bright west in stronger lines,
The oak its dark'ning boughs and foliage twines, 1793.
The edition of 1815 omitted this couplet. It was restored in its final
form in the edition of 1820. ]
[Variant 67:
1836.
I love beside the glowing lake to stray, 1793.
How pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray, 1815. ]
[Variant 68:
1836.
. . . to stray,
Where winds the road along the secret bay;
By rills that tumble down the woody steeps,
And run in transport to the dimpling deeps;
Along the "wild meand'ring shore" to view,
Obsequious Grace the winding swan pursue. 1793.
. . . a secret bay; 1813.
. . . meandering shore" . . . 1815. ]
[Variant 69:
1836.
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.
[Variant 38:
1836.
Whose state, like pine-trees, waving to and fro,
Droops, and o'er canopies his regal brow,
This couplet was inserted in the editions 1793 to 1832. ]
[Variant 39:
1820.
. . . blows . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 40: This couplet was first printed in the edition of 1820. ]
[Variant 41:
1836.
Bright'ning the cliffs between where sombrous pine,
And yew-trees . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 42:
1836.
How busy the enormous hive within, 1793. ]
[Variant 43:
1836.
. . . with the . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 44:
1836.
Some hardly heard their chissel's clinking sound, 1793. ]
[Variant 45:
1836.
. . . th' aereal . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 46:
1815.
. . . viewless . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 47:
1836.
Glad from their airy baskets hang and sing. 1793. ]
[Variant 48:
1836.
Hung o'er a cloud, above the steep that rears 1793. ]
[Variant 49:
1820.
It's . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 50:
1845.
And now it touches on the purple steep
That flings his shadow on the pictur'd deep. 1793.
That flings its image . . . 1832.
And now the sun has touched the purple steep
Whose softened image penetrates the deep. 1836. ]
[Variant 51:
1836.
The coves . . . 1793]
[Variant 52:
1836.
The gilded turn arrays in richer green
Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between; 1793.
. . . invests with richer green 1820. ]
[Variant 53:
1827.
. . . boles . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 54:
1827.
. . . in . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 55:
1836.
That, barking busy 'mid the glittering rocks,
Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks; 1793. ]
[Variant 56:
1845.
The Druid stones [ii] their lighted fane unfold, 1793.
. . . a burnished ring unfold; 1836. ]
[Variant 57:
1827.
. . . sinks . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 58:
1845.
In these lone vales, if aught of faith may claim,
Thin silver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame;
When up the hills, as now, retreats the light,
Strange apparitions mock the village sight. 1793.
In these secluded vales, if village fame,
Confirmed by silver hairs, belief may claim;
When up the hills, as now, retired the light,
Strange apparitions mocked the gazer's sight. 1820.
. . . shepherd's sight. 1836. ]
[Variant 59:
1836.
A desperate form appears, that spurs his steed,
Along the midway cliffs with violent speed; 1793. ]
[Variant 60:
1836.
Anon, in order mounts a gorgeous show
Of horsemen shadows winding to and fro; 1793. ]
[Variant 61: This line was added in 1820. ]
[Variant 62:
1820.
. . . is gilt with evening's beam, 1793. ]
[Variant 63:
1849.
. . . of the . . . 1836. ]
[Variant 64:
1836.
Lost gradual o'er the heights in pomp they go,
While silent stands th' admiring vale below;
Till, but the lonely beacon all is fled,
That tips with eve's last gleam his spiry head. 1793.
Till, save the lonely beacon, . . . 1820.
In the edition of 1836 the seven lines of the printed
text--205-211--replaced these four lines of the editions 1793-1832. ]
[Variant 65:
1836.
On red slow-waving pinions . . . 1793. ]
[Variant 66:
1820.
And, fronting the bright west in stronger lines,
The oak its dark'ning boughs and foliage twines, 1793.
The edition of 1815 omitted this couplet. It was restored in its final
form in the edition of 1820. ]
[Variant 67:
1836.
I love beside the glowing lake to stray, 1793.
How pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray, 1815. ]
[Variant 68:
1836.
. . . to stray,
Where winds the road along the secret bay;
By rills that tumble down the woody steeps,
And run in transport to the dimpling deeps;
Along the "wild meand'ring shore" to view,
Obsequious Grace the winding swan pursue. 1793.
. . . a secret bay; 1813.
. . . meandering shore" . . . 1815. ]
[Variant 69:
1836.
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.
