the descriptive-meditative pattern of his 'Tintern the forbidden fruit by stating, 'God so com-
Abbey' and 'Ode: Intimations of Immortality.' manded, and left that Command / Sole Daughter
Where in the Preface to Lyrical Ballads of 1802 of his voice; the rest, we live / Law to ourselves,
he had both disparaged the 18th-century poet our Reason is our Law.'
.
OD E TO DUT Y / 31 3 Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove; Thou, who art victory and law When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dost set free; And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity! There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense4 of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot; Who do thy work, and know it not: Oh! if through confidence misplaced They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast. Serene will be our days and bright, And happy will our nature be, When love is an unerring light, And joy its own security. And they a blissful course may hold Even now, who, not unwisely bold, Live in the spirit of this creed; Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need. I, loving freedom, and untried; No sport of every random gust, Yet being to myself a guide, Too blindly have reposed my trust: And oft, when in my heart was heard Thy timely mandate, I deferred The task, in smoother walks to stray; But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may. Through no disturbance of my soul, Or strong compunction5 in me wrought, I supplicate for thy control; But in the quietness of thought: Me this unchartered freedom tires; I feel the weight of chance-desires: My hopes no more must change their name, I long for a repose that ever is the same. Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we any thing so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads; 4 . 5. Innate vitality. In the older sense: sting of conscience, or remorse.
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314 / WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong;
And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong. To humbler functions, awful Power!
50 1 call thee: I myself commend
Unto thy guidance from this hour;
Oh, let my weakness have an end!
Give unto me, made lowly wise,6
The spirit of self-sacrifice;
55 The confidence of reason give; And in the light of truth thy Bondman7 let me live!
1804 1807
The Solitary Reaper1
Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
5 Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound. No Nightingale did ever chaunt
10 More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
15 Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.2
Will no one tell me what she sings?3 Perhaps the plaintive numbers0 flow verses
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
20 And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
6. Another echo from Milton. The angel Raphael guage of Scotland] as she bended over her sickle; had advised Adam (Paradise Lost 8.173?74), 'Be the sweetest human voice I ever heard: her strains
lowly wise: / Think only what concerns thee and were tenderly melancholy, and felt delicious, long
