Only in the
editions
of 1798 and 1800.
William Wordsworth
Him in iron case
(Reader, forgive the intolerable thought)
They hung not:--no one on _his_ form or face 660
Could gaze, as on a show by idlers sought;
No kindred sufferer, to his death-place brought
By lawless curiosity or chance,
When into storm the evening sky is wrought,
Upon his swinging corse an eye can glance, 665
And drop, as he once dropped, in miserable trance.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1845.
Three years . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 2:
1845.
. . . rose and pursued . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 3:
1845.
. . . demoniac . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 4:
1845.
Than he who now at night-fall treads thy bare domain! 1842. ]
[Variant 5:
1845.
And, from its perilous shelter driven, . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 6: The following stanza was only in the editions of 1798 and
1800:
By Derwent's side my Father's cottage stood,
(The Woman thus her artless story told)
One field, a flock, and what the neighbouring flood
Supplied, to him were more than mines of gold.
Light was my sleep; my days in transport roll'd:
With thoughtless joy I stretch'd along the shore
My father's nets, or watched, when from the fold
High o'er the cliffs I led my fleecy store,
A dizzy depth below! his boat and twinkling oar. 1798.
. . . or from the mountain fold
Saw on the distant lake his twinkling oar
Or watch'd his lazy boat still less'ning more and more. 1800. ]
[Variant 7:
1842.
My father was a good and pious man,
An honest man by honest parents bred, 1798. ]
[Variant 8: Stanzas XXIV. and XXV. were omitted from the editions of
1802 and 1805. They were restored in 1820. ]
[Variant 9:
1842.
Can I forget what charms did once adorn
My garden, stored with pease, and mint, and thyme,
And rose and lilly for the sabbath morn?
The sabbath bells, and their delightful chime;
The gambols and wild freaks at shearing time;
My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;
The cowslip-gathering at May's dewy prime;
The swans, that, when I sought the water-side,
From far to meet me came, spreading their snowy pride. 1798.
Can I forget our croft and plot of corn;
Our garden, stored . . . 1836.
The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime; 1820.
The swans, that with white chests upheaved in pride,
Rushing and racing came to meet me at the waterside. 1836. ]
[Variant 10:
1842.
. . . yet . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 11:
1802.
When . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 12:
1836.
My watchful dog, whose starts of furious ire,
When stranger passed, so often I have check'd; 1798. ]
[Variant 13:
1845.
. . . would . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 14:
1845.
. . . summer . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 15:
1845.
The suns of twenty summers danced along,--
Ah! little marked, how fast they rolled away:
Then rose a mansion proud our woods among,
And cottage after cottage owned its sway,
No joy to see a neighbouring house, or stray
Through pastures not his own, the master took;
My Father dared his greedy wish gainsay;
He loved his old hereditary nook,
And ill could I the thought of such sad parting brook. 1798.
Then rose a stately hall our woods among, 1800.
. . . how fast they rolled away:
But, through severe mischance, and cruel wrong,
My father's substance fell into decay;
We toiled, and struggled--hoping for a day
When Fortune should put on a kinder look;
But vain were wishes--efforts vain as they:
He from his old hereditary nook
Must part,--the summons came,--our final leave we took. 1820. ]
[Variant 16: The following stanza occurs only in the editions 1798 to
1805:
But, when he had refused the proffered gold,
To cruel injuries he became a prey,
Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:
His troubles grew upon him day by day,
Till all his substance fell into decay.
His little range of water was denied; [i]
All but the bed where his old body lay,
All, all was seized, and weeping, side by side,
We sought a home where we uninjured might abide. 1798.
And all his substance fell into decay.
They dealt most hardly with him, and he tried
To move their hearts--but it was vain--for they
Seized all he had; and, weeping . . . 1802-5. ]
[Variant 17:
1820.
Can I forget that miserable hour, 1798.
It was in truth a lamentable hour 1802. ]
[Variant 18:
1798.
I saw our own dear home, that was . . . 1802.
The edition of 1820 returns to the text of 1798. ]
[Variant 19:
1827.
. . . many and many a song 1798. ]
[Variant 20:
1800.
. . . little birds . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 21:
1836.
His father said, that to a distant town
He must repair, to ply the artist's trade. 1798.
Two years were pass'd, since to a distant Town
He had repair'd to ply the artist's trade. 1802. ]
[Variant 22:
1802.
Four years each day with daily bread was blest,
By constant toil and constant prayer supplied. 1798. ]
[Variant 23:
1836.
Three lovely infants lay upon my breast; 1798. ]
[Variant 24:
1842.
When sad distress. . . 1798. ]
[Variant 25:
1836.
. . . from him the grave did hide 1798.
. . . for him . . . 1820. ]
[Variant 26:
1798.
. . . which . . . Only in 1820. ]
[Variant 27:
1836.
. . . could . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 28:
1798.
But soon, day after day, . . . 1802.
The edition of 1820 reverts to the reading of 1798. ]
[Variant 29:
1836.
. . . to sweep . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 30:
1836.
There foul neglect for months and months we bore,
Nor yet the crowded fleet its anchor stirred. 1798.
There, long were we neglected, and we bore
Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weigh'd; 1802. ]
[Variant 31:
1802.
Green fields before us and our native shore,
By fever, from polluted air incurred,
Ravage was made, for which no knell was heard.
Fondly we wished, and wished away, nor knew,
'Mid that long sickness, and those hopes deferr'd, 1798. ]
[Variant 32:
1802.
But from delay the summer calms were past. 1798. ]
[Variant 33:
1802.
We gazed with terror on the gloomy sleep
Of them that perished in the whirlwind's sweep, 1798. ]
[Variant 34:
Oh! dreadful price of being to resign
All that is dear _in_ being! better far
In Want's most lonely cave till death to pine,
Unseen, unheard, unwatched by any star;
Or in the streets and walks where proud men are,
Better our dying bodies to obtrude,
Than dog-like, wading at the heels of war,
Protract a curst existence, with the brood
That lap (their very nourishment! ) their brother's blood.
Only in the editions of 1798 and 1800. ]
[Variant 35:
1842.
It would thy brain unsettle even to hear. 1798. ]
[Variant 36:
1842.
Peaceful as some immeasurable plain
By the first beams of dawning light impress'd, 1798. ]
[Variant 37:
1827.
. . . has its hour of rest,
That comes not to the human mourner's breast. 1798.
I too was calm, though heavily distress'd! 1802. ]
[Variant 38:
1842.
Remote from man, and storms of mortal care,
A heavenly silence did the waves invest;
I looked and looked along the silent air,
Until it seemed to bring a joy to my despair. 1798.
Oh me, how quiet sky and ocean were!
My heart was healed within me, I was bless'd.
And looked, and looked . . . 1802.
My heart was hushed within me, . . . 1815.
As quiet all within me, . . . 1827. ]
[Variant 39:
1800.
Where looks inhuman dwelt on festering heaps! 1798. ]
[Variant 40: The following stanza appeared only in the editions
1798-1805:
Yet does that burst of woe congeal my frame,
When the dark streets appeared to heave and gape,
While like a sea the storming army came,
And Fire from Hell reared his gigantic shape,
And Murder, by the ghastly gleam, and Rape
Seized their joint prey, the mother and the child!
But from these crazing thoughts my brain, escape!
--For weeks the balmy air breathed soft and mild,
And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. 1798.
At midnight once the storming Army came,
Yet do I see the miserable sight,
The Bayonet, the Soldier, and the Flame
That followed us and faced us in our flight:
When Rape and Murder by the ghastly light
Seized their joint prey, the Mother and the Child!
But I must leave these thoughts. --From night to night,
From day to day, the air breathed soft and mild;
And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. 1802-5. ]
[Variant 41:
1802.
And oft, robb'd of my perfect mind, I thought
At last my feet a resting-place had found:
Here will I weep in peace, (so fancy wrought,) 1798. ]
[Variant 42:
1842.
Here watch, of every human friend disowned,
All day, my ready tomb the ocean-flood-- 1798.
Here will I live:--of every friend disown'd,
Here will I roam about the ocean flood. -- 1802.
And end my days upon the ocean flood. "-- 1815. ]
[Variant 43:
1842.
By grief enfeebled was I turned adrift,
Helpless as sailor cast on desart rock; 1798.
Helpless as sailor cast on some bare rock; 1836. ]
[Variant 44:
1842.
Nor dared . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 45:
1802.
How dismal . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 46:
1832.
. . . frame . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 47:
1836.
So passed another day, and so the third:
Then did I try, in vain, the crowd's resort, 1798. ]
[Variant 48:
1827.
Dizzy my brain, with interruption short 1798.
And I had many interruptions short 1802. ]
[Variant 49:
1802.
. . . sunk . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 50:
1827.
And thence was borne away to neighbouring hospital. 1798.
And thence was carried to a neighbouring Hospital. 1802. ]
[Variant 51:
1827.
Recovery came with food: but still, my brain
Was weak, nor of the past had memory. 1798. ]
[Variant 52:
1842.
. . . with careless cruelty, 1798. ]
[Variant 53:
1815.
. . . would . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 54:
1836.
. . . torpid . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 55:
1827.
Memory, though slow, returned with strength; . . . 1798.
My memory and my strength returned; . . . 1802. ]
[Variant 56:
1802.
The wild brood . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 57: The following stanza occurs only in the editions of 1798 to
1805:
My heart is touched to think that men like these,
The rude earth's tenants, were my first relief:
How kindly did they paint their vagrant ease!
And their long holiday that feared not grief,
For all belonged to all, and each was chief.
No plough their sinews strained; on grating road
No wain they drove, and yet, the yellow sheaf
In every vale for their delight was stowed:
For them, in nature's meads, the milky udder flowed. 1798.
My heart is touched to think that men like these,
Wild houseless Wanderers, were my first relief: 1802.
In every field, with milk their dairy overflow'd. 1802. ]
[Variant 58:
1836.
Semblance, with straw and pannier'd ass, they made
Of potters wandering on from door to door:
But life of happier sort to me pourtrayed, 1798.
They with their pannier'd Asses semblance made
Of Potters . . . 1802. ]
[Variant 59:
1836.
In depth of forest glade, when . . . 1798.
Among the forest glades when . . . 1802. ]
[Variant 60:
1802.
But ill it suited me, in journey dark 1798. ]
[Variant 61:
1802.
Poor father! . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 62:
1842.
Ill was I . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 63:
1842.
With tears whose course no effort could confine,
By high-way side forgetful would I sit 1798.
By the road-side forgetful would I sit 1802.
In the open air forgetful . . . 1836. ]
[Variant 64:
1836.
. . . my . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 65:
1836.
I lived upon the mercy of the fields,
And oft of cruelty the sky accused;
On hazard, or what general bounty yields, 1798.
I led a wandering life among the fields;
Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
I liv'd upon what casual bounty yields, 1802. ]
[Variant 66:
1802.
The fields . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 67:
1836.
Three years a wanderer, often have I view'd,
In tears, the sun towards that country tend 1798.
Three years thus wandering, . . . 1802. ]
[Variant 68:
1836.
And now across this moor my steps I bend-- 1798. ]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES
[Footnote A: In the 'Prelude', he says it was "three summer days. " See
book xiii. l. 337. --Ed. ]
[Footnote B: By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this
edition (1840). See p. 37.
(Reader, forgive the intolerable thought)
They hung not:--no one on _his_ form or face 660
Could gaze, as on a show by idlers sought;
No kindred sufferer, to his death-place brought
By lawless curiosity or chance,
When into storm the evening sky is wrought,
Upon his swinging corse an eye can glance, 665
And drop, as he once dropped, in miserable trance.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1845.
Three years . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 2:
1845.
. . . rose and pursued . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 3:
1845.
. . . demoniac . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 4:
1845.
Than he who now at night-fall treads thy bare domain! 1842. ]
[Variant 5:
1845.
And, from its perilous shelter driven, . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 6: The following stanza was only in the editions of 1798 and
1800:
By Derwent's side my Father's cottage stood,
(The Woman thus her artless story told)
One field, a flock, and what the neighbouring flood
Supplied, to him were more than mines of gold.
Light was my sleep; my days in transport roll'd:
With thoughtless joy I stretch'd along the shore
My father's nets, or watched, when from the fold
High o'er the cliffs I led my fleecy store,
A dizzy depth below! his boat and twinkling oar. 1798.
. . . or from the mountain fold
Saw on the distant lake his twinkling oar
Or watch'd his lazy boat still less'ning more and more. 1800. ]
[Variant 7:
1842.
My father was a good and pious man,
An honest man by honest parents bred, 1798. ]
[Variant 8: Stanzas XXIV. and XXV. were omitted from the editions of
1802 and 1805. They were restored in 1820. ]
[Variant 9:
1842.
Can I forget what charms did once adorn
My garden, stored with pease, and mint, and thyme,
And rose and lilly for the sabbath morn?
The sabbath bells, and their delightful chime;
The gambols and wild freaks at shearing time;
My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;
The cowslip-gathering at May's dewy prime;
The swans, that, when I sought the water-side,
From far to meet me came, spreading their snowy pride. 1798.
Can I forget our croft and plot of corn;
Our garden, stored . . . 1836.
The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime; 1820.
The swans, that with white chests upheaved in pride,
Rushing and racing came to meet me at the waterside. 1836. ]
[Variant 10:
1842.
. . . yet . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 11:
1802.
When . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 12:
1836.
My watchful dog, whose starts of furious ire,
When stranger passed, so often I have check'd; 1798. ]
[Variant 13:
1845.
. . . would . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 14:
1845.
. . . summer . . . 1842. ]
[Variant 15:
1845.
The suns of twenty summers danced along,--
Ah! little marked, how fast they rolled away:
Then rose a mansion proud our woods among,
And cottage after cottage owned its sway,
No joy to see a neighbouring house, or stray
Through pastures not his own, the master took;
My Father dared his greedy wish gainsay;
He loved his old hereditary nook,
And ill could I the thought of such sad parting brook. 1798.
Then rose a stately hall our woods among, 1800.
. . . how fast they rolled away:
But, through severe mischance, and cruel wrong,
My father's substance fell into decay;
We toiled, and struggled--hoping for a day
When Fortune should put on a kinder look;
But vain were wishes--efforts vain as they:
He from his old hereditary nook
Must part,--the summons came,--our final leave we took. 1820. ]
[Variant 16: The following stanza occurs only in the editions 1798 to
1805:
But, when he had refused the proffered gold,
To cruel injuries he became a prey,
Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:
His troubles grew upon him day by day,
Till all his substance fell into decay.
His little range of water was denied; [i]
All but the bed where his old body lay,
All, all was seized, and weeping, side by side,
We sought a home where we uninjured might abide. 1798.
And all his substance fell into decay.
They dealt most hardly with him, and he tried
To move their hearts--but it was vain--for they
Seized all he had; and, weeping . . . 1802-5. ]
[Variant 17:
1820.
Can I forget that miserable hour, 1798.
It was in truth a lamentable hour 1802. ]
[Variant 18:
1798.
I saw our own dear home, that was . . . 1802.
The edition of 1820 returns to the text of 1798. ]
[Variant 19:
1827.
. . . many and many a song 1798. ]
[Variant 20:
1800.
. . . little birds . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 21:
1836.
His father said, that to a distant town
He must repair, to ply the artist's trade. 1798.
Two years were pass'd, since to a distant Town
He had repair'd to ply the artist's trade. 1802. ]
[Variant 22:
1802.
Four years each day with daily bread was blest,
By constant toil and constant prayer supplied. 1798. ]
[Variant 23:
1836.
Three lovely infants lay upon my breast; 1798. ]
[Variant 24:
1842.
When sad distress. . . 1798. ]
[Variant 25:
1836.
. . . from him the grave did hide 1798.
. . . for him . . . 1820. ]
[Variant 26:
1798.
. . . which . . . Only in 1820. ]
[Variant 27:
1836.
. . . could . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 28:
1798.
But soon, day after day, . . . 1802.
The edition of 1820 reverts to the reading of 1798. ]
[Variant 29:
1836.
. . . to sweep . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 30:
1836.
There foul neglect for months and months we bore,
Nor yet the crowded fleet its anchor stirred. 1798.
There, long were we neglected, and we bore
Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weigh'd; 1802. ]
[Variant 31:
1802.
Green fields before us and our native shore,
By fever, from polluted air incurred,
Ravage was made, for which no knell was heard.
Fondly we wished, and wished away, nor knew,
'Mid that long sickness, and those hopes deferr'd, 1798. ]
[Variant 32:
1802.
But from delay the summer calms were past. 1798. ]
[Variant 33:
1802.
We gazed with terror on the gloomy sleep
Of them that perished in the whirlwind's sweep, 1798. ]
[Variant 34:
Oh! dreadful price of being to resign
All that is dear _in_ being! better far
In Want's most lonely cave till death to pine,
Unseen, unheard, unwatched by any star;
Or in the streets and walks where proud men are,
Better our dying bodies to obtrude,
Than dog-like, wading at the heels of war,
Protract a curst existence, with the brood
That lap (their very nourishment! ) their brother's blood.
Only in the editions of 1798 and 1800. ]
[Variant 35:
1842.
It would thy brain unsettle even to hear. 1798. ]
[Variant 36:
1842.
Peaceful as some immeasurable plain
By the first beams of dawning light impress'd, 1798. ]
[Variant 37:
1827.
. . . has its hour of rest,
That comes not to the human mourner's breast. 1798.
I too was calm, though heavily distress'd! 1802. ]
[Variant 38:
1842.
Remote from man, and storms of mortal care,
A heavenly silence did the waves invest;
I looked and looked along the silent air,
Until it seemed to bring a joy to my despair. 1798.
Oh me, how quiet sky and ocean were!
My heart was healed within me, I was bless'd.
And looked, and looked . . . 1802.
My heart was hushed within me, . . . 1815.
As quiet all within me, . . . 1827. ]
[Variant 39:
1800.
Where looks inhuman dwelt on festering heaps! 1798. ]
[Variant 40: The following stanza appeared only in the editions
1798-1805:
Yet does that burst of woe congeal my frame,
When the dark streets appeared to heave and gape,
While like a sea the storming army came,
And Fire from Hell reared his gigantic shape,
And Murder, by the ghastly gleam, and Rape
Seized their joint prey, the mother and the child!
But from these crazing thoughts my brain, escape!
--For weeks the balmy air breathed soft and mild,
And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. 1798.
At midnight once the storming Army came,
Yet do I see the miserable sight,
The Bayonet, the Soldier, and the Flame
That followed us and faced us in our flight:
When Rape and Murder by the ghastly light
Seized their joint prey, the Mother and the Child!
But I must leave these thoughts. --From night to night,
From day to day, the air breathed soft and mild;
And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled. 1802-5. ]
[Variant 41:
1802.
And oft, robb'd of my perfect mind, I thought
At last my feet a resting-place had found:
Here will I weep in peace, (so fancy wrought,) 1798. ]
[Variant 42:
1842.
Here watch, of every human friend disowned,
All day, my ready tomb the ocean-flood-- 1798.
Here will I live:--of every friend disown'd,
Here will I roam about the ocean flood. -- 1802.
And end my days upon the ocean flood. "-- 1815. ]
[Variant 43:
1842.
By grief enfeebled was I turned adrift,
Helpless as sailor cast on desart rock; 1798.
Helpless as sailor cast on some bare rock; 1836. ]
[Variant 44:
1842.
Nor dared . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 45:
1802.
How dismal . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 46:
1832.
. . . frame . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 47:
1836.
So passed another day, and so the third:
Then did I try, in vain, the crowd's resort, 1798. ]
[Variant 48:
1827.
Dizzy my brain, with interruption short 1798.
And I had many interruptions short 1802. ]
[Variant 49:
1802.
. . . sunk . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 50:
1827.
And thence was borne away to neighbouring hospital. 1798.
And thence was carried to a neighbouring Hospital. 1802. ]
[Variant 51:
1827.
Recovery came with food: but still, my brain
Was weak, nor of the past had memory. 1798. ]
[Variant 52:
1842.
. . . with careless cruelty, 1798. ]
[Variant 53:
1815.
. . . would . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 54:
1836.
. . . torpid . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 55:
1827.
Memory, though slow, returned with strength; . . . 1798.
My memory and my strength returned; . . . 1802. ]
[Variant 56:
1802.
The wild brood . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 57: The following stanza occurs only in the editions of 1798 to
1805:
My heart is touched to think that men like these,
The rude earth's tenants, were my first relief:
How kindly did they paint their vagrant ease!
And their long holiday that feared not grief,
For all belonged to all, and each was chief.
No plough their sinews strained; on grating road
No wain they drove, and yet, the yellow sheaf
In every vale for their delight was stowed:
For them, in nature's meads, the milky udder flowed. 1798.
My heart is touched to think that men like these,
Wild houseless Wanderers, were my first relief: 1802.
In every field, with milk their dairy overflow'd. 1802. ]
[Variant 58:
1836.
Semblance, with straw and pannier'd ass, they made
Of potters wandering on from door to door:
But life of happier sort to me pourtrayed, 1798.
They with their pannier'd Asses semblance made
Of Potters . . . 1802. ]
[Variant 59:
1836.
In depth of forest glade, when . . . 1798.
Among the forest glades when . . . 1802. ]
[Variant 60:
1802.
But ill it suited me, in journey dark 1798. ]
[Variant 61:
1802.
Poor father! . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 62:
1842.
Ill was I . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 63:
1842.
With tears whose course no effort could confine,
By high-way side forgetful would I sit 1798.
By the road-side forgetful would I sit 1802.
In the open air forgetful . . . 1836. ]
[Variant 64:
1836.
. . . my . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 65:
1836.
I lived upon the mercy of the fields,
And oft of cruelty the sky accused;
On hazard, or what general bounty yields, 1798.
I led a wandering life among the fields;
Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
I liv'd upon what casual bounty yields, 1802. ]
[Variant 66:
1802.
The fields . . . 1798. ]
[Variant 67:
1836.
Three years a wanderer, often have I view'd,
In tears, the sun towards that country tend 1798.
Three years thus wandering, . . . 1802. ]
[Variant 68:
1836.
And now across this moor my steps I bend-- 1798. ]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES
[Footnote A: In the 'Prelude', he says it was "three summer days. " See
book xiii. l. 337. --Ed. ]
[Footnote B: By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this
edition (1840). See p. 37.
