The
original
tale of the tub was not more unfortunate than
the lines in praise of Wilkinson's spade, and several of Wordsworth's
friends, notably Charles Lamb and Barren Field, objected to the change.
the lines in praise of Wilkinson's spade, and several of Wordsworth's
friends, notably Charles Lamb and Barren Field, objected to the change.
William Wordsworth
--why call him so?
Because, my Darlings, ye must know
That, under hills which rise like towers, [4]
Far higher hills than these of ours!
He from his birth had lived. 15
He ne'er had seen one earthly sight
The sun, the day; the stars, the night;
Or tree, or butterfly, or flower,
Or fish in stream, or bird in bower,
Or woman, man, or child. 20
And yet he neither drooped nor pined,
Nor had a melancholy mind;
For God took pity on the Boy,
And was his friend; and gave him joy
Of which we nothing know. 25
His Mother, too, no doubt, above
Her other children him did love:
For, was she here, or was she there,
She thought of him with constant care,
And more than mother's love. 30
And proud she was of heart, when clad
In crimson stockings, tartan plaid,
And bonnet with a feather gay,
To Kirk he on the sabbath day
Went hand in hand with her. 35
A dog too, had he; not for need,
But one to play with and to feed;
Which would [5] have led him, if bereft
Of company or friends, and left
Without a better guide. 40
And then the bagpipes he could blow--
And thus from house to house would go;
And all were pleased to hear and see,
For none made sweeter melody
Than did the poor blind Boy. 45
Yet he had many a restless dream;
Both when he heard the eagles scream,
And when he heard the torrents roar,
And heard the water beat the shore
Near which their cottage stood. 50
Beside a lake their cottage stood,
Not small like ours, a peaceful flood;
But one of mighty size, and strange;
That, rough or smooth, is full of change,
And stirring in its bed. 55
For to this lake, by night and day,
The great Sea-water finds its way
Through long, long windings of the hills
And drinks up all the pretty [B] rills
And rivers large and strong: [C] 60
Then hurries back the road it came--
Returns, on errand still the same;
This did it when the earth was new;
And this for evermore will do,
As long as earth shall last. 65
And, with the coming of the tide,
Come boats and ships that safely [6] ride
Between the woods and lofty rocks;
And to the shepherds with their flocks
Bring tales of distant lands. 70
And of those tales, whate'er they were,
The blind Boy always had his share;
Whether of mighty towns, or vales
With warmer suns and softer gales,
Or wonders of the Deep. 75
Yet more it pleased him, more it stirred,
When from the water-side he heard
The shouting, and the jolly cheers;
The bustle of the mariners
In stillness or in storm. 80
But what do his desires avail?
For He must never handle sail;
Nor mount the mast, nor row, nor float
In sailor's ship, or fisher's boat,
Upon the rocking waves. 85
His Mother often thought, and said,
What sin would be upon her head
If she should suffer this: "My Son,
Whate'er you do, leave this undone;
The danger is so great. " 90
Thus lived he by Loch-Leven's side
Still sounding with the sounding tide,
And heard the billows leap and dance,
Without a shadow of mischance,
Till he was ten years old. 95
When one day (and now mark me well,
Ye [7] soon shall know how this befell)
He in a vessel of his own,
On the swift flood is hurrying down,
Down to the mighty Sea. [8] 100
In such a vessel never more
May human creature leave the Shore! [9]
If this or that way he should stir,
Woe to the poor blind Mariner!
For death will be his doom. 105
[10]
But say what bears him? --Ye have seen
The Indian's bow, his arrows keen,
Rare beasts, and birds with plumage bright;
Gifts which, for wonder or delight,
Are brought in ships from far. [11] 110
[D] Such gifts had those seafaring men
Spread round that haven in the glen;
Each hut, perchance, might have its own;
And to the Boy they all were known--
He knew and prized them all. 115
The rarest was a Turtle-shell
Which he, poor Child, had studied well;
A shell of ample size, and light
As the pearly car of Amphitrite,
That sportive dolphins drew. [12] 120
And, as a Coracle that braves
On Vaga's breast the fretful waves,
This shell upon the deep would swim,
And gaily lift its fearless brim
Above the tossing surge. [13] 125
And this the little blind Boy knew:
And he a story strange yet true
Had heard, how in a shell like this
An English Boy, O thought of bliss!
Had stoutly launched from shore; 130
Launched from the margin of a bay
Among the Indian isles, where lay
His father's ship, and had sailed far--
To join that gallant ship of war,
In his delightful shell. 135
Our Highland Boy oft visited
'The house that [14] held this prize; and, led
By choice or chance, did thither come
One day when no one was at home,
And found the door unbarred. 140
While there he sate, alone and blind,
That story flashed upon his mind;--
A bold thought roused him, and he took
The shell from out its secret nook,
And bore it on his head. [15] 145
He launched his vessel,--and in pride
Of spirit, from Loch-Leven's side,
Stepped into it--his thoughts all free
As the light breezes that with glee
Sang through the adventurer's hair. [16] 150
A while he stood upon his feet;
He felt the motion--took his seat;
Still better pleased as more and more
The tide retreated from the shore,
And sucked, and sucked him in. [17] 155
And there he is in face of Heaven.
How rapidly the Child is driven!
The fourth part of a mile, I ween,
He thus had gone, ere he was seen
By any human eye. 160
But when he was first seen, oh me
What shrieking and what misery!
For many saw; among the rest
His Mother, she who loved him best,
She saw her poor blind Boy. 165
But for the child, the sightless Boy,
It is the triumph of his joy!
The bravest traveller in balloon,
Mounting as if to reach the moon,
Was never half so blessed. 170
And let him, let him go his way,
Alone, and innocent, and gay!
For, if good Angels love to wait
On the forlorn unfortunate,
This Child will take no harm. 175
But now the passionate lament,
Which from the crowd on shore was sent,
The cries which broke from old and young
In Gaelic, or the English tongue,
Are stifled--all is still. 180
And quickly with a silent crew
A boat is ready to pursue;
And from the shore their course they take,
And swiftly down the running lake
They follow the blind Boy. 185
But soon they move with softer pace;
So have ye seen the fowler chase
On Grasmere's clear unruffled breast
A youngling of the wild-duck's nest
With deftly-lifted oar; 190
Or as the wily sailors crept
To seize (while on the Deep it slept)
The hapless creature which did dwell
Erewhile within the dancing shell,
They steal upon their prey. [18] 195
With sound the least that can be made,
They follow, more and more afraid,
More cautious as they draw more near;
But in his darkness he can hear,
And guesses their intent. 200
"_Lei-gha--Lei-gha_"--he then cried out,
"_Lei-gha--Lei-gha_"--with eager shout; [19]
Thus did he cry, and thus did pray,
And what he meant was, "Keep away,
And leave me to myself! " [E] 205
Alas! and when he felt their hands--
You've often heard [20] of magic wands,
That with a motion overthrow
A palace of the proudest show,
Or melt it into air: 210
So all his dreams--that inward light
With which his soul had shone so bright--
All vanished;--'twas a heartfelt cross
To him, a heavy, bitter loss,
As he had ever known. 215
But hark! a gratulating voice,
With which the very hills rejoice:
'Tis from the crowd, who tremblingly
Have [21] watched the event, and now can see
That he is safe at last. 220
And then, when he was brought to land,
Full sure they were a happy band,
Which, gathering round, did on the banks
Of that great Water give God thanks,
And welcomed the poor Child. 225
And in the general joy of heart
The blind Boy's little dog took part;
He leapt about, and oft did kiss
His master's hands in sign of bliss,
With sound like lamentation. 230
But most of all, his Mother dear,
She who had fainted with her fear,
Rejoiced when waking she espies
The Child; when she can trust her eyes,
And touches the blind Boy. 235
She led him home, and wept amain,
When he was in the house again:
Tears flowed in torrents from her eyes;
She kissed him--how could she chastise? [22]
She was too happy far. 240
Thus, after he had fondly braved
The perilous Deep, the Boy was saved;
And, though his fancies had been wild,
Yet he was pleased and reconciled
To live in peace on shore. 245
And in the lonely Highland dell
Still do they keep the Turtle-shell;
And long the story will repeat
Of the blind Boy's adventurous feat,
And how he was preserved. [23] 250
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1827.
We've . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1807.
How . . . MS. ]
[Variant 3:
1807.
Aye, willingly, and what is more
One which you never heard before,
True story this which I shall tell MS. ]
[Variant 4:
1837.
In land where many a mountain towers, 1807. ]
[Variant 5:
1807.
. . . could . . . MS. ]
[Variant 6:
1827.
. . . sweetly . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 7:
1815.
You . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 8:
1837.
He's in a vessel of his own,
On the swift water hurrying down
Towards the mighty Sea. 1807.
He in a vessel of his own,
On the swift flood is hurrying down 1827.
Towards the great, great Sea. MS. ]
[Variant 9:
1815.
. . . ne'er before
Did human Creature . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 10: The following stanza was only in the edition of 1807:
Strong is the current; but be mild,
Ye waves, and spare the helpless Child!
If ye in anger fret or chafe,
A Bee-hive would be ship as safe
As that in which he sails. ]
[Variant 11:
1815.
But say, what was it? Thought of fear!
Well may ye tremble when ye hear!
--A Household Tub, like one of those,
Which women use to wash their clothes,
This carried the blind Boy. 1807. ]
[Variant 12:
1820.
And one, the rarest, was a Shell
Which he, poor Child, had studied well;
The Shell of a green Turtle, thin
And hollow;--you might sit therein.
It was so wide and deep. 1815. ]
[Variant 13:
1820.
'Twas even the largest of its kind,
Large, thin, and light as birch-tree rind;
So light a Shell that it would swim,
And gaily lift its fearless brim
Above the tossing waves. 1815. ]
[Variant 14:
1837.
. . . which . . . 1815. ]
[Variant 15:
1827.
. . . in his arms. 1815. ]
[Variant 16:
1827.
Close to the water he had found
This Vessel, push'd it from dry ground,
Went into it; and, without dread,
Following the fancies in his head,
He paddled up and down. 1807.
And with the happy burthen hied,
And pushed it from Loch Levin's side,--
Stepped into it; and, without dread, 1815. ]
[Variant 17:
1827.
And dallied thus, till from the shore
The tide retreating more and more
Had suck'd, and suck'd him in. 1807. ]
[Variant 18: The two previous stanzas were added in the edition of 1815. ]
[Variant 19:
1837.
. . . then did he cry
. . . most eagerly; 1807. ]
[Variant 20:
1807.
. . . read . . . MS. ]
[Variant 21:
1837.
Had . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 22:
1832.
She could not blame him, or chastise; 1807. ]
[Variant 23: This stanza was added in the edition of 1815. ]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: The title in the editions of 1807 to 1820 was 'The Blind
Highland Boy. (A Tale told by the Fireside. )'
This poem gave its title to a separate division in the second volume of
the edition of 1807, viz. "The Blind Highland Boy; with other
Poems. "--Ed. ]
[Footnote B: This reading occurs in all the editions. But Wordsworth,
whose MS. was not specially clear, may have written, or meant to write
"petty," (a much better word), and not perceived the mistake when
revising the sheets. If he really wrote "petty," he may have meant
either small rills (rillets), or used the word as Shakespeare used it,
for "pelting" rills. --Ed. ]
[Footnote C: Compare Tennyson's 'In Memoriam', stanza xix. :
'There twice a day the Severn fills;
The salt sea-water passes by,
And hushes half the babbling Wye,
And makes a silence in the hills, etc. '
Ed. ]
[Footnote D: This and the following six stanzas were added in 1815. --Ed. ]
[Footnote E: Writing to Walter Scott, from Coleorton, on Jan. 20, 1807,
Wordsworth sent him this stanza of the poem, and asked
"Could you furnish me, by application to any of your Gaelic friends, a
phrase in that language which could take its place in the following
verse of eight syllables, and have the following meaning. "
He adds,
"The above is part of a little poem which I have written on a Highland
story told me by an eye-witness . . . "
This is the nearest clue we have to the date of the composition of the
poem. --Ed. ]
It is recorded in Dampier's Voyages that a Boy, the Son of a Captain of
a Man of War, seated himself in a Turtle-shell and floated in it from
the shore to his Father's Ship, which lay at anchor at the distance of
half a mile. Upon the suggestion of a Friend, I have substituted such a
Shell for that less elegant vessel in which my blind voyager did
actually intrust himself to the dangerous current of Loch Levin, as was
related to me by an Eye-witness. --W. W. 1815.
This note varies slightly in later editions.
The Loch Leven referred to is a sea-loch in Argyllshire, into which the
tidal water flows with some force from Loch Linnhe at Ballachulish.
'By night and day
The great Sea-water finds its way
Through long, long windings of the hills. '
The friend referred to in the note of 1815, who urged Wordsworth to give
his blind voyager a Shell, instead of a washing-tub to sail in, was
Coleridge.
The original tale of the tub was not more unfortunate than
the lines in praise of Wilkinson's spade, and several of Wordsworth's
friends, notably Charles Lamb and Barren Field, objected to the change.
Lamb wrote to Wordsworth in 1815,
"I am afraid lest that substitution of a shell (a flat falsification
of the history) for the household implement, as it stood at first, was
a kind of tub thrown out to the beast" [_i. e. _ the reviewer! ] "or
rather thrown out for him. The tub was a good honest tub in its place,
and nothing could fairly be said against it. You say you made the
alteration for the 'friendly reader,' but the 'malicious' will take it
to himself. "
('The Letters of Charles Lamb', edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p.
283. ) Wordsworth could not be induced to "undo his work," and go back to
his own original; although he evidently agreed with what Lamb had said
(as is seen in a letter to Barren Field, Oct. 24, 1828). --Ed.
* * * * *
OCTOBER, 1803
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; renamed in 1845,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
One might believe that natural miseries
Had blasted France, and made of it a land
Unfit for men; and that in one great band
Her sons were bursting forth, to dwell at ease.
But 'tis a chosen soil, where sun and breeze 5
Shed gentle favours: rural works are there,
And ordinary business without care;
Spot rich in all things that can soothe and please!
How piteous then that there should be such dearth
Of knowledge; that whole myriads should unite 10
To work against themselves such fell despite:
Should come in phrensy and in drunken mirth,
Impatient to put out the only light
Of Liberty that yet remains on earth!
* * * * *
"THERE IS A BONDAGE WORSE, FAR WORSE, TO BEAR"
Composed possibly in 1803. --Published 1807
Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; renamed in 1845,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
There is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear [1]
Than his who breathes, by roof, and floor, and wall,
Pent in, a Tyrant's solitary Thrall:
'Tis his who walks about in the open air,
One of a Nation who, henceforth, must wear 5
Their fetters in their souls. For who could be,
Who, even the best, in such condition, free
From self-reproach, reproach that [2] he must share
With Human-nature? Never be it ours
To see the sun how brightly it will shine, 10
And know that noble feelings, manly powers,
Instead of gathering strength, must droop and pine;
And earth with all her pleasant fruits and flowers
Fade, and participate in man's decline.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1827.
. . . which is worse to bear 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1837.
. . . which . . . 1807. ]
* * * * *
OCTOBER, 1803 (#2)
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
This was one of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; afterwards called,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
These times strike [1] monied worldlings with dismay:
Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air
With words of apprehension and despair:
While tens of thousands, thinking on the affray,
Men unto whom sufficient for the day 5
And minds not stinted or unfilled are given,
Sound, healthy, children of the God of heaven,
Are cheerful as the rising sun in May.
What do we gather hence but firmer faith
That every gift of noble origin 10
Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath;
That virtue and the faculties within
Are vital,--and that riches are akin
To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death?
* * * * *
VARIANT ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1837.
. . . touch . . . 1807. ]
* * * * *
"ENGLAND! THE TIME IS COME WHEN THOU SHOULD'ST WEAN"
Composed possibly in 1803. --Published 1807
This was one of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; afterwards called,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
England! the time is come when thou should'st wean
Thy heart from its emasculating food;
The truth should now be better understood;
Old things have been unsettled; we have seen
Fair seed-time, better harvest might have been 5
But for thy trespasses; and, at this day,
If for Greece, Egypt, India, Africa,
Aught good were destined, thou would'st step between.
England! all nations in this charge agree:
But worse, more ignorant in love and hate, 10
Far--far more abject, is thine Enemy:
Therefore the wise pray for thee, though the freight
Of thy offences be a heavy weight:
Oh grief that Earth's best hopes rest all with Thee!
* * * * *
OCTOBER, 1803 (#3)
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; afterwards called,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
When, looking on the present face of things,
I see one man, of men the meanest too!
Raised up to sway the world, to do, undo,
With mighty Nations for his underlings,
The great events with which old story rings 5
Seem vain and hollow; I find nothing great:
Nothing is left which I can venerate;
So that a doubt almost [1] within me springs
Of Providence, such emptiness at length
Seems at the heart of all things. But, great God! 10
I measure back the steps which I have trod;
And tremble, seeing whence proceeds the strength [2]
Of such poor Instruments, with thoughts sublime
I tremble at the sorrow of the time.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1845.
. . . almost a doubt . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1827.
. . . seeing, as I do, the strength 1807. ]
The reference is, of course, to Napoleon. --Ed.
* * * * *
TO THE MEN OF KENT. OCTOBER, 1803
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; re-named in 1845, "Poems
dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
Vanguard of Liberty, ye men of Kent, [A]
Ye children of a Soil that doth advance
Her [1] haughty brow against the coast of France,
Now is the time to prove your hardiment!
To France be words of invitation sent! 5
They from their fields can see the countenance
Of your fierce war, may ken the glittering lance
And hear you shouting forth your brave intent.
Left single, in bold parley, ye, of yore,
Did from the Norman win a gallant wreath; 10
Confirmed the charters that were yours before;--
No parleying now! In Britain is one breath;
We all are with you now from shore to shore:--
Ye men of Kent, 'tis victory or death!
* * * * *
VARIANT ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1827.
It's . . . 1807.
It's haughty forehead 'gainst . . . MS. ]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Compare Michael Drayton's 'Barons' Wars', book i. :
'Then those of Kent, unconquered of the rest,
That to this day maintain their ancient right. '
Ed. ]
* * * * *
IN THE PASS OF KILLICRANKY,
An invasion being expected, October 1803
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
From 1807 to 1820 this sonnet was one of those "dedicated to Liberty. "
In 1827 it was included among the "Memorials of a Tour in Scotland,
1803. " From 1807 to 1820 the title was simply October, 1803. --Ed.
Six thousand veterans practised in war's game,
Tried men, at Killicranky were arrayed
Against an equal host that wore the plaid,
Shepherds and herdsmen. --Like a whirlwind came
The Highlanders, the slaughter spread like flame; 5
And Garry, thundering down his mountain-road,
Was stopped, and could not breathe beneath the load
Of the dead bodies. --'Twas a day of shame
For them whom precept and the pedantry
Of cold mechanic battle do enslave. 10
O for a single hour of that Dundee, [A]
Who on that day the word of onset gave!
Like conquest would the Men of England see;
And her Foes find a like inglorious grave.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: See an anecdote related in Mr. Scott's Border Minstrelsy.
--W. W. 1807.
"Oh for an hour of Dundee" was an exclamation of Gordon of Glenbucket at
Sheriffmuir. --Ed. ]
The following is from Dorothy Wordsworth's 'Recollections of a Tour made
in Scotland', 1803:
"Thursday, September 8th. --Before breakfast we walked to the Pass of
Killicrankie. A very fine scene; the river Garry forcing its way down
a deep chasm between rocks, at the foot of high rugged hills covered
with wood, to a great height. The pass did not, however, impress us
with awe, or a sensation of difficulty or danger, according to our
expectations; but, the road being at a considerable height on the side
of the hill, we at first only looked into the dell or chasm. It is
much grander seen from below, near the river's bed. Everybody knows
that this Pass is famous in military history. When we were travelling
in Scotland, an invasion was hourly looked for, and one could not but
think with some regret of the times when, from the now depopulated
Highlands forty or fifty thousand men might have been poured down for
the defence of the country, under such leaders as the Marquis of
Montrose or the brave man who had so distinguished himself upon the
ground where we were standing. I will transcribe a sonnet suggested to
William by this place, and written in Oct. 1803. "
Ed.
* * * * *
ANTICIPATION. OCTOBER, 1803
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807 [A]
Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; re-named in 1845,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
Shout, for a mighty Victory is won!
On British ground the Invaders are laid low;
The breath of Heaven has drifted them like snow,
And left them lying in the silent sun,
Never to rise again! --the work is done. 5
Come forth, ye old men, now in peaceful show
And greet your sons! drums beat and trumpets blow!
Make merry, wives! ye little children, stun
Your grandame's ears with pleasure of your noise! [1]
Clap, infants, clap your hands! Divine must be 10
That triumph, when the very worst, the pain,
And even the prospect of our brethren slain, [2]
Hath something in it which the heart enjoys:--
In glory will they sleep and endless sanctity. [3]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1807.
. . . with transports of your own. C.
. . . with transport of your noise! 1838.
The edition of 1840 returns to the text of 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1807.
The loss and e'en the prospect of the slain, MS. 1803.
And in 'The Poetical Register', 1803.
And prospect of our Brethren to be slain, MS. 1803. ]
[Variant 3:
1807.
True glory, everlasting sanctity. MS. 1803.
And in 'The Poetical Register', 1803. ]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: _i. e. _ in the edition of 1807, but this sonnet was
previously printed in 1803 in 'The Poetical Register', vol. iii. p. 340,
in the 'Anti-Gallican' (1804), and in the 'Poetical Repository'
(1805). --Ed. ]
This sonnet, as the title indicates, does not refer to an actual
victory; because, since the Norman conquest, no "Invaders" have ever set
foot "on British ground. " It was written--like the two preceding
sonnets, and the one that follows it--"in anticipation" of Napoleon's
project for the invasion of England being actually carried out; a
project never realised. The assembling of the immense French army
destined for this purpose--one of the finest brought together since the
days of the Roman legions--between the mouths of the Seine and the
Texel, roused the spirit of English patriotism as it had never been
roused before. Three hundred thousand volunteers were enlisted in Great
Britain by the 10th of August 1803;
"all the male population of the kingdom from seventeen years of age to
fifty-five were divided into classes to be successively armed and
exercised" (Dyer).
The story of the failure of Napoleon's scheme is too well known to be
repeated in this note. Wordsworth seems to have written his sonnet in
anticipation of what he believed would have been the inevitable issue of
events, had the French army actually landed on British soil. --Ed.
* * * * *
LINES ON THE EXPECTED INVASION
1803
Composed 1803. --Published 1842
Included among the "Poems dedicated to National Independence and
Liberty. "--Ed.
Come ye--who, if (which Heaven avert! ) the Land
Were with herself at strife, would take your stand,
Like gallant Falkland, by the Monarch's side,
And, like Montrose, make Loyalty your pride--
Come ye--who, not less zealous, might display 5
Banners at enmity with regal sway,
And, like the Pyms and Miltons of that day,
Think that a State would live in sounder health
If Kingship bowed its head to Commonwealth--
Ye too--whom no discreditable fear 10
Would keep, perhaps with many a fruitless tear,
Uncertain what to choose and how to steer--
And ye--who might mistake for sober sense
And wise reserve the plea of indolence--
Come ye--whate'er your creed--O waken all, 15
Whate'er your temper, at your Country's call;
Resolving (this a free-born Nation can)
To have one Soul, and perish to a man,
Or save this honoured Land from every Lord
But British reason and the British sword. 20
* * * * *
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Because, my Darlings, ye must know
That, under hills which rise like towers, [4]
Far higher hills than these of ours!
He from his birth had lived. 15
He ne'er had seen one earthly sight
The sun, the day; the stars, the night;
Or tree, or butterfly, or flower,
Or fish in stream, or bird in bower,
Or woman, man, or child. 20
And yet he neither drooped nor pined,
Nor had a melancholy mind;
For God took pity on the Boy,
And was his friend; and gave him joy
Of which we nothing know. 25
His Mother, too, no doubt, above
Her other children him did love:
For, was she here, or was she there,
She thought of him with constant care,
And more than mother's love. 30
And proud she was of heart, when clad
In crimson stockings, tartan plaid,
And bonnet with a feather gay,
To Kirk he on the sabbath day
Went hand in hand with her. 35
A dog too, had he; not for need,
But one to play with and to feed;
Which would [5] have led him, if bereft
Of company or friends, and left
Without a better guide. 40
And then the bagpipes he could blow--
And thus from house to house would go;
And all were pleased to hear and see,
For none made sweeter melody
Than did the poor blind Boy. 45
Yet he had many a restless dream;
Both when he heard the eagles scream,
And when he heard the torrents roar,
And heard the water beat the shore
Near which their cottage stood. 50
Beside a lake their cottage stood,
Not small like ours, a peaceful flood;
But one of mighty size, and strange;
That, rough or smooth, is full of change,
And stirring in its bed. 55
For to this lake, by night and day,
The great Sea-water finds its way
Through long, long windings of the hills
And drinks up all the pretty [B] rills
And rivers large and strong: [C] 60
Then hurries back the road it came--
Returns, on errand still the same;
This did it when the earth was new;
And this for evermore will do,
As long as earth shall last. 65
And, with the coming of the tide,
Come boats and ships that safely [6] ride
Between the woods and lofty rocks;
And to the shepherds with their flocks
Bring tales of distant lands. 70
And of those tales, whate'er they were,
The blind Boy always had his share;
Whether of mighty towns, or vales
With warmer suns and softer gales,
Or wonders of the Deep. 75
Yet more it pleased him, more it stirred,
When from the water-side he heard
The shouting, and the jolly cheers;
The bustle of the mariners
In stillness or in storm. 80
But what do his desires avail?
For He must never handle sail;
Nor mount the mast, nor row, nor float
In sailor's ship, or fisher's boat,
Upon the rocking waves. 85
His Mother often thought, and said,
What sin would be upon her head
If she should suffer this: "My Son,
Whate'er you do, leave this undone;
The danger is so great. " 90
Thus lived he by Loch-Leven's side
Still sounding with the sounding tide,
And heard the billows leap and dance,
Without a shadow of mischance,
Till he was ten years old. 95
When one day (and now mark me well,
Ye [7] soon shall know how this befell)
He in a vessel of his own,
On the swift flood is hurrying down,
Down to the mighty Sea. [8] 100
In such a vessel never more
May human creature leave the Shore! [9]
If this or that way he should stir,
Woe to the poor blind Mariner!
For death will be his doom. 105
[10]
But say what bears him? --Ye have seen
The Indian's bow, his arrows keen,
Rare beasts, and birds with plumage bright;
Gifts which, for wonder or delight,
Are brought in ships from far. [11] 110
[D] Such gifts had those seafaring men
Spread round that haven in the glen;
Each hut, perchance, might have its own;
And to the Boy they all were known--
He knew and prized them all. 115
The rarest was a Turtle-shell
Which he, poor Child, had studied well;
A shell of ample size, and light
As the pearly car of Amphitrite,
That sportive dolphins drew. [12] 120
And, as a Coracle that braves
On Vaga's breast the fretful waves,
This shell upon the deep would swim,
And gaily lift its fearless brim
Above the tossing surge. [13] 125
And this the little blind Boy knew:
And he a story strange yet true
Had heard, how in a shell like this
An English Boy, O thought of bliss!
Had stoutly launched from shore; 130
Launched from the margin of a bay
Among the Indian isles, where lay
His father's ship, and had sailed far--
To join that gallant ship of war,
In his delightful shell. 135
Our Highland Boy oft visited
'The house that [14] held this prize; and, led
By choice or chance, did thither come
One day when no one was at home,
And found the door unbarred. 140
While there he sate, alone and blind,
That story flashed upon his mind;--
A bold thought roused him, and he took
The shell from out its secret nook,
And bore it on his head. [15] 145
He launched his vessel,--and in pride
Of spirit, from Loch-Leven's side,
Stepped into it--his thoughts all free
As the light breezes that with glee
Sang through the adventurer's hair. [16] 150
A while he stood upon his feet;
He felt the motion--took his seat;
Still better pleased as more and more
The tide retreated from the shore,
And sucked, and sucked him in. [17] 155
And there he is in face of Heaven.
How rapidly the Child is driven!
The fourth part of a mile, I ween,
He thus had gone, ere he was seen
By any human eye. 160
But when he was first seen, oh me
What shrieking and what misery!
For many saw; among the rest
His Mother, she who loved him best,
She saw her poor blind Boy. 165
But for the child, the sightless Boy,
It is the triumph of his joy!
The bravest traveller in balloon,
Mounting as if to reach the moon,
Was never half so blessed. 170
And let him, let him go his way,
Alone, and innocent, and gay!
For, if good Angels love to wait
On the forlorn unfortunate,
This Child will take no harm. 175
But now the passionate lament,
Which from the crowd on shore was sent,
The cries which broke from old and young
In Gaelic, or the English tongue,
Are stifled--all is still. 180
And quickly with a silent crew
A boat is ready to pursue;
And from the shore their course they take,
And swiftly down the running lake
They follow the blind Boy. 185
But soon they move with softer pace;
So have ye seen the fowler chase
On Grasmere's clear unruffled breast
A youngling of the wild-duck's nest
With deftly-lifted oar; 190
Or as the wily sailors crept
To seize (while on the Deep it slept)
The hapless creature which did dwell
Erewhile within the dancing shell,
They steal upon their prey. [18] 195
With sound the least that can be made,
They follow, more and more afraid,
More cautious as they draw more near;
But in his darkness he can hear,
And guesses their intent. 200
"_Lei-gha--Lei-gha_"--he then cried out,
"_Lei-gha--Lei-gha_"--with eager shout; [19]
Thus did he cry, and thus did pray,
And what he meant was, "Keep away,
And leave me to myself! " [E] 205
Alas! and when he felt their hands--
You've often heard [20] of magic wands,
That with a motion overthrow
A palace of the proudest show,
Or melt it into air: 210
So all his dreams--that inward light
With which his soul had shone so bright--
All vanished;--'twas a heartfelt cross
To him, a heavy, bitter loss,
As he had ever known. 215
But hark! a gratulating voice,
With which the very hills rejoice:
'Tis from the crowd, who tremblingly
Have [21] watched the event, and now can see
That he is safe at last. 220
And then, when he was brought to land,
Full sure they were a happy band,
Which, gathering round, did on the banks
Of that great Water give God thanks,
And welcomed the poor Child. 225
And in the general joy of heart
The blind Boy's little dog took part;
He leapt about, and oft did kiss
His master's hands in sign of bliss,
With sound like lamentation. 230
But most of all, his Mother dear,
She who had fainted with her fear,
Rejoiced when waking she espies
The Child; when she can trust her eyes,
And touches the blind Boy. 235
She led him home, and wept amain,
When he was in the house again:
Tears flowed in torrents from her eyes;
She kissed him--how could she chastise? [22]
She was too happy far. 240
Thus, after he had fondly braved
The perilous Deep, the Boy was saved;
And, though his fancies had been wild,
Yet he was pleased and reconciled
To live in peace on shore. 245
And in the lonely Highland dell
Still do they keep the Turtle-shell;
And long the story will repeat
Of the blind Boy's adventurous feat,
And how he was preserved. [23] 250
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1827.
We've . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1807.
How . . . MS. ]
[Variant 3:
1807.
Aye, willingly, and what is more
One which you never heard before,
True story this which I shall tell MS. ]
[Variant 4:
1837.
In land where many a mountain towers, 1807. ]
[Variant 5:
1807.
. . . could . . . MS. ]
[Variant 6:
1827.
. . . sweetly . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 7:
1815.
You . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 8:
1837.
He's in a vessel of his own,
On the swift water hurrying down
Towards the mighty Sea. 1807.
He in a vessel of his own,
On the swift flood is hurrying down 1827.
Towards the great, great Sea. MS. ]
[Variant 9:
1815.
. . . ne'er before
Did human Creature . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 10: The following stanza was only in the edition of 1807:
Strong is the current; but be mild,
Ye waves, and spare the helpless Child!
If ye in anger fret or chafe,
A Bee-hive would be ship as safe
As that in which he sails. ]
[Variant 11:
1815.
But say, what was it? Thought of fear!
Well may ye tremble when ye hear!
--A Household Tub, like one of those,
Which women use to wash their clothes,
This carried the blind Boy. 1807. ]
[Variant 12:
1820.
And one, the rarest, was a Shell
Which he, poor Child, had studied well;
The Shell of a green Turtle, thin
And hollow;--you might sit therein.
It was so wide and deep. 1815. ]
[Variant 13:
1820.
'Twas even the largest of its kind,
Large, thin, and light as birch-tree rind;
So light a Shell that it would swim,
And gaily lift its fearless brim
Above the tossing waves. 1815. ]
[Variant 14:
1837.
. . . which . . . 1815. ]
[Variant 15:
1827.
. . . in his arms. 1815. ]
[Variant 16:
1827.
Close to the water he had found
This Vessel, push'd it from dry ground,
Went into it; and, without dread,
Following the fancies in his head,
He paddled up and down. 1807.
And with the happy burthen hied,
And pushed it from Loch Levin's side,--
Stepped into it; and, without dread, 1815. ]
[Variant 17:
1827.
And dallied thus, till from the shore
The tide retreating more and more
Had suck'd, and suck'd him in. 1807. ]
[Variant 18: The two previous stanzas were added in the edition of 1815. ]
[Variant 19:
1837.
. . . then did he cry
. . . most eagerly; 1807. ]
[Variant 20:
1807.
. . . read . . . MS. ]
[Variant 21:
1837.
Had . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 22:
1832.
She could not blame him, or chastise; 1807. ]
[Variant 23: This stanza was added in the edition of 1815. ]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: The title in the editions of 1807 to 1820 was 'The Blind
Highland Boy. (A Tale told by the Fireside. )'
This poem gave its title to a separate division in the second volume of
the edition of 1807, viz. "The Blind Highland Boy; with other
Poems. "--Ed. ]
[Footnote B: This reading occurs in all the editions. But Wordsworth,
whose MS. was not specially clear, may have written, or meant to write
"petty," (a much better word), and not perceived the mistake when
revising the sheets. If he really wrote "petty," he may have meant
either small rills (rillets), or used the word as Shakespeare used it,
for "pelting" rills. --Ed. ]
[Footnote C: Compare Tennyson's 'In Memoriam', stanza xix. :
'There twice a day the Severn fills;
The salt sea-water passes by,
And hushes half the babbling Wye,
And makes a silence in the hills, etc. '
Ed. ]
[Footnote D: This and the following six stanzas were added in 1815. --Ed. ]
[Footnote E: Writing to Walter Scott, from Coleorton, on Jan. 20, 1807,
Wordsworth sent him this stanza of the poem, and asked
"Could you furnish me, by application to any of your Gaelic friends, a
phrase in that language which could take its place in the following
verse of eight syllables, and have the following meaning. "
He adds,
"The above is part of a little poem which I have written on a Highland
story told me by an eye-witness . . . "
This is the nearest clue we have to the date of the composition of the
poem. --Ed. ]
It is recorded in Dampier's Voyages that a Boy, the Son of a Captain of
a Man of War, seated himself in a Turtle-shell and floated in it from
the shore to his Father's Ship, which lay at anchor at the distance of
half a mile. Upon the suggestion of a Friend, I have substituted such a
Shell for that less elegant vessel in which my blind voyager did
actually intrust himself to the dangerous current of Loch Levin, as was
related to me by an Eye-witness. --W. W. 1815.
This note varies slightly in later editions.
The Loch Leven referred to is a sea-loch in Argyllshire, into which the
tidal water flows with some force from Loch Linnhe at Ballachulish.
'By night and day
The great Sea-water finds its way
Through long, long windings of the hills. '
The friend referred to in the note of 1815, who urged Wordsworth to give
his blind voyager a Shell, instead of a washing-tub to sail in, was
Coleridge.
The original tale of the tub was not more unfortunate than
the lines in praise of Wilkinson's spade, and several of Wordsworth's
friends, notably Charles Lamb and Barren Field, objected to the change.
Lamb wrote to Wordsworth in 1815,
"I am afraid lest that substitution of a shell (a flat falsification
of the history) for the household implement, as it stood at first, was
a kind of tub thrown out to the beast" [_i. e. _ the reviewer! ] "or
rather thrown out for him. The tub was a good honest tub in its place,
and nothing could fairly be said against it. You say you made the
alteration for the 'friendly reader,' but the 'malicious' will take it
to himself. "
('The Letters of Charles Lamb', edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p.
283. ) Wordsworth could not be induced to "undo his work," and go back to
his own original; although he evidently agreed with what Lamb had said
(as is seen in a letter to Barren Field, Oct. 24, 1828). --Ed.
* * * * *
OCTOBER, 1803
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; renamed in 1845,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
One might believe that natural miseries
Had blasted France, and made of it a land
Unfit for men; and that in one great band
Her sons were bursting forth, to dwell at ease.
But 'tis a chosen soil, where sun and breeze 5
Shed gentle favours: rural works are there,
And ordinary business without care;
Spot rich in all things that can soothe and please!
How piteous then that there should be such dearth
Of knowledge; that whole myriads should unite 10
To work against themselves such fell despite:
Should come in phrensy and in drunken mirth,
Impatient to put out the only light
Of Liberty that yet remains on earth!
* * * * *
"THERE IS A BONDAGE WORSE, FAR WORSE, TO BEAR"
Composed possibly in 1803. --Published 1807
Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; renamed in 1845,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
There is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear [1]
Than his who breathes, by roof, and floor, and wall,
Pent in, a Tyrant's solitary Thrall:
'Tis his who walks about in the open air,
One of a Nation who, henceforth, must wear 5
Their fetters in their souls. For who could be,
Who, even the best, in such condition, free
From self-reproach, reproach that [2] he must share
With Human-nature? Never be it ours
To see the sun how brightly it will shine, 10
And know that noble feelings, manly powers,
Instead of gathering strength, must droop and pine;
And earth with all her pleasant fruits and flowers
Fade, and participate in man's decline.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1827.
. . . which is worse to bear 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1837.
. . . which . . . 1807. ]
* * * * *
OCTOBER, 1803 (#2)
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
This was one of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; afterwards called,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
These times strike [1] monied worldlings with dismay:
Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air
With words of apprehension and despair:
While tens of thousands, thinking on the affray,
Men unto whom sufficient for the day 5
And minds not stinted or unfilled are given,
Sound, healthy, children of the God of heaven,
Are cheerful as the rising sun in May.
What do we gather hence but firmer faith
That every gift of noble origin 10
Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath;
That virtue and the faculties within
Are vital,--and that riches are akin
To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death?
* * * * *
VARIANT ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1837.
. . . touch . . . 1807. ]
* * * * *
"ENGLAND! THE TIME IS COME WHEN THOU SHOULD'ST WEAN"
Composed possibly in 1803. --Published 1807
This was one of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; afterwards called,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
England! the time is come when thou should'st wean
Thy heart from its emasculating food;
The truth should now be better understood;
Old things have been unsettled; we have seen
Fair seed-time, better harvest might have been 5
But for thy trespasses; and, at this day,
If for Greece, Egypt, India, Africa,
Aught good were destined, thou would'st step between.
England! all nations in this charge agree:
But worse, more ignorant in love and hate, 10
Far--far more abject, is thine Enemy:
Therefore the wise pray for thee, though the freight
Of thy offences be a heavy weight:
Oh grief that Earth's best hopes rest all with Thee!
* * * * *
OCTOBER, 1803 (#3)
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; afterwards called,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
When, looking on the present face of things,
I see one man, of men the meanest too!
Raised up to sway the world, to do, undo,
With mighty Nations for his underlings,
The great events with which old story rings 5
Seem vain and hollow; I find nothing great:
Nothing is left which I can venerate;
So that a doubt almost [1] within me springs
Of Providence, such emptiness at length
Seems at the heart of all things. But, great God! 10
I measure back the steps which I have trod;
And tremble, seeing whence proceeds the strength [2]
Of such poor Instruments, with thoughts sublime
I tremble at the sorrow of the time.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1845.
. . . almost a doubt . . . 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1827.
. . . seeing, as I do, the strength 1807. ]
The reference is, of course, to Napoleon. --Ed.
* * * * *
TO THE MEN OF KENT. OCTOBER, 1803
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; re-named in 1845, "Poems
dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
Vanguard of Liberty, ye men of Kent, [A]
Ye children of a Soil that doth advance
Her [1] haughty brow against the coast of France,
Now is the time to prove your hardiment!
To France be words of invitation sent! 5
They from their fields can see the countenance
Of your fierce war, may ken the glittering lance
And hear you shouting forth your brave intent.
Left single, in bold parley, ye, of yore,
Did from the Norman win a gallant wreath; 10
Confirmed the charters that were yours before;--
No parleying now! In Britain is one breath;
We all are with you now from shore to shore:--
Ye men of Kent, 'tis victory or death!
* * * * *
VARIANT ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1827.
It's . . . 1807.
It's haughty forehead 'gainst . . . MS. ]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Compare Michael Drayton's 'Barons' Wars', book i. :
'Then those of Kent, unconquered of the rest,
That to this day maintain their ancient right. '
Ed. ]
* * * * *
IN THE PASS OF KILLICRANKY,
An invasion being expected, October 1803
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807
From 1807 to 1820 this sonnet was one of those "dedicated to Liberty. "
In 1827 it was included among the "Memorials of a Tour in Scotland,
1803. " From 1807 to 1820 the title was simply October, 1803. --Ed.
Six thousand veterans practised in war's game,
Tried men, at Killicranky were arrayed
Against an equal host that wore the plaid,
Shepherds and herdsmen. --Like a whirlwind came
The Highlanders, the slaughter spread like flame; 5
And Garry, thundering down his mountain-road,
Was stopped, and could not breathe beneath the load
Of the dead bodies. --'Twas a day of shame
For them whom precept and the pedantry
Of cold mechanic battle do enslave. 10
O for a single hour of that Dundee, [A]
Who on that day the word of onset gave!
Like conquest would the Men of England see;
And her Foes find a like inglorious grave.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: See an anecdote related in Mr. Scott's Border Minstrelsy.
--W. W. 1807.
"Oh for an hour of Dundee" was an exclamation of Gordon of Glenbucket at
Sheriffmuir. --Ed. ]
The following is from Dorothy Wordsworth's 'Recollections of a Tour made
in Scotland', 1803:
"Thursday, September 8th. --Before breakfast we walked to the Pass of
Killicrankie. A very fine scene; the river Garry forcing its way down
a deep chasm between rocks, at the foot of high rugged hills covered
with wood, to a great height. The pass did not, however, impress us
with awe, or a sensation of difficulty or danger, according to our
expectations; but, the road being at a considerable height on the side
of the hill, we at first only looked into the dell or chasm. It is
much grander seen from below, near the river's bed. Everybody knows
that this Pass is famous in military history. When we were travelling
in Scotland, an invasion was hourly looked for, and one could not but
think with some regret of the times when, from the now depopulated
Highlands forty or fifty thousand men might have been poured down for
the defence of the country, under such leaders as the Marquis of
Montrose or the brave man who had so distinguished himself upon the
ground where we were standing. I will transcribe a sonnet suggested to
William by this place, and written in Oct. 1803. "
Ed.
* * * * *
ANTICIPATION. OCTOBER, 1803
Composed October 1803. --Published 1807 [A]
Included among the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty"; re-named in 1845,
"Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty. "--Ed.
Shout, for a mighty Victory is won!
On British ground the Invaders are laid low;
The breath of Heaven has drifted them like snow,
And left them lying in the silent sun,
Never to rise again! --the work is done. 5
Come forth, ye old men, now in peaceful show
And greet your sons! drums beat and trumpets blow!
Make merry, wives! ye little children, stun
Your grandame's ears with pleasure of your noise! [1]
Clap, infants, clap your hands! Divine must be 10
That triumph, when the very worst, the pain,
And even the prospect of our brethren slain, [2]
Hath something in it which the heart enjoys:--
In glory will they sleep and endless sanctity. [3]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1807.
. . . with transports of your own. C.
. . . with transport of your noise! 1838.
The edition of 1840 returns to the text of 1807. ]
[Variant 2:
1807.
The loss and e'en the prospect of the slain, MS. 1803.
And in 'The Poetical Register', 1803.
And prospect of our Brethren to be slain, MS. 1803. ]
[Variant 3:
1807.
True glory, everlasting sanctity. MS. 1803.
And in 'The Poetical Register', 1803. ]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: _i. e. _ in the edition of 1807, but this sonnet was
previously printed in 1803 in 'The Poetical Register', vol. iii. p. 340,
in the 'Anti-Gallican' (1804), and in the 'Poetical Repository'
(1805). --Ed. ]
This sonnet, as the title indicates, does not refer to an actual
victory; because, since the Norman conquest, no "Invaders" have ever set
foot "on British ground. " It was written--like the two preceding
sonnets, and the one that follows it--"in anticipation" of Napoleon's
project for the invasion of England being actually carried out; a
project never realised. The assembling of the immense French army
destined for this purpose--one of the finest brought together since the
days of the Roman legions--between the mouths of the Seine and the
Texel, roused the spirit of English patriotism as it had never been
roused before. Three hundred thousand volunteers were enlisted in Great
Britain by the 10th of August 1803;
"all the male population of the kingdom from seventeen years of age to
fifty-five were divided into classes to be successively armed and
exercised" (Dyer).
The story of the failure of Napoleon's scheme is too well known to be
repeated in this note. Wordsworth seems to have written his sonnet in
anticipation of what he believed would have been the inevitable issue of
events, had the French army actually landed on British soil. --Ed.
* * * * *
LINES ON THE EXPECTED INVASION
1803
Composed 1803. --Published 1842
Included among the "Poems dedicated to National Independence and
Liberty. "--Ed.
Come ye--who, if (which Heaven avert! ) the Land
Were with herself at strife, would take your stand,
Like gallant Falkland, by the Monarch's side,
And, like Montrose, make Loyalty your pride--
Come ye--who, not less zealous, might display 5
Banners at enmity with regal sway,
And, like the Pyms and Miltons of that day,
Think that a State would live in sounder health
If Kingship bowed its head to Commonwealth--
Ye too--whom no discreditable fear 10
Would keep, perhaps with many a fruitless tear,
Uncertain what to choose and how to steer--
And ye--who might mistake for sober sense
And wise reserve the plea of indolence--
Come ye--whate'er your creed--O waken all, 15
Whate'er your temper, at your Country's call;
Resolving (this a free-born Nation can)
To have one Soul, and perish to a man,
Or save this honoured Land from every Lord
But British reason and the British sword. 20
* * * * *
END OF VOLUME II (OF EIGHT)
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