Dalecarlia mines. ability ('skill') to distinguish between vague desire
2. William Wallace, Scottish patriot, fought (perhaps, 'haply,' resulting from lack of power) and against the English until captured and executedin ruling impulse; between endless procrastination
1305. See Robert Burns's 'Robert Bruce's March and carefulness ('circumspection').'
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33 0 / WILLIA M WORDSWORT H Simplicity, and self-presented truth. 250 Ah! better far than this, to stray about Voluptuously,0 through fields and rural walks, luxuriously And ask no record of the hours, resigned To vacant musing, unreproved neglect Of all things, and deliberate holiday: 255 Far better never to have heard the name Of zeal and just ambition, than to live Baffled and plagued by a mind that every hour Turns recreant0 to her task, takes heart again, unfaithful Then feels immediately some hollow thought 260 Hang like an interdict0 upon her hopes. prohibition This is my lot; for either still I find Some imperfection in the chosen theme; Or see of absolute accomplishment Much wanting, so much wanting, in myself 265 That I recoil and droop, and seek repose In listlessness from vain perplexity; Unprofitably travelling toward the grave, Like a false Steward who hath much received, And renders nothing back.6 Was it for this7 270 That one, the fairest of all rivers, loved To blend his murmurs with my Nurse's song; And, from his alder shades and rocky falls, And from his fords and shallows, sent a voice That flowed along my dreams? For this didst Thou, 275 O Derwent! winding among grassy holms8 Where I was looking on, a Babe in arms, Make ceaseless music, that composed my thoughts To more than infant softness, giving me, Amid the fretful dwellings of mankind, 280 A foretaste, a dim earnest, of the calm That Nature breathes among the hills and groves? When he had left the mountains, and received On his smooth breast the shadow of those Towers That yet survive, a shattered Monument 285 Of feudal sway, the bright blue River passed Along the margin of our Terrace Walk;9 A tempting Playmate whom we dearly loved. O many a time have I, a five years' Child, In a small mill-race1 severed from his stream, 290 Made one long bathing of a summer's day; Basked in the sun, and plunged, and basked again, Alternate all a summer's day, or scoured2 The sandy fields, leaping through flow'ry groves Of yellow ragwort; or when rock and hill,
6. The reference is to Christ's parable of the stew-9. The Derwent River flows by Cockermouth ard who fails to use his talents (literally, the coins Castle and then past the garden terrace behind his master has entrusted to him and, figuratively, Wordsworth's father's house in Cockermouth, his God-given abilities) in Matthew 25.14-30. Cumberland. 7. The two-part Prelude that Wordsworth wrote in 1. The current that drives a mill wheel. 1798-99 begins at this point. 2. Run swiftly over. 8. Flat ground next to a river.
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THE PRELUDE, BOOK THIRTEENTH / 33 1
The woods and distant Skiddaw's3 lofty height, Were bronzed with deepest radiance, stood alone Beneath the sky, as if I had been born On Indian plains, and from my Mother's hut Had run abroad in wantonness,0 to sport, frolic A naked Savage, in the thunder shower.
Fair seed-time had my soul, and I grew up Fostered alike by beauty and by fear; Much favoured in my birth- place, and no less In that beloved Vale4 to which erelong We were transplanted?there were we let loose For sports of wider range. Ere I had told Ten birth-days, when among the mountain slopes Frost, and the breath of frosty wind, had snapped The last autumnal Crocus, 'twas my joy, With store of Springes0 o'er my Shoulder slung, bird, snares To range the open heights where woodcocks ran Along the smooth green turf. Through half the night, Scudding away from snare to snare, I plied That anxious visitation;?moon and stars Were shining o'er my head; I was alone, And seemed to be a trouble to the peace That dwelt among them. Sometimes it befel, In these night- wanderings, that a strong desire O'erpowered my better reason, and the Bird Which was the Captive of another's toil3 Became my prey; and when the deed was done I heard, among the solitary hills, Low breathings coming after me, and sounds Of undistinguishable motion, steps Almost as silent as the turf they trod.
Nor less, when Spring had warmed the cultured0 Vale, cultivated Roved we as plunderers where the Mother-bird Had in high places built her lodge; though mean0 of little value Our object, and inglorious, yet the end0 outcome Was not ignoble. Oh! when I have hung Above the Raven's nest, by knots of grass And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock But ill-sustained; and almost (so it seemed) Suspended by the blast that blew amain, Shouldering the naked crag; Oh, at that time, While on the perilous ridge I hung alone, With what strange utterance did the loud dry wind Blow through my ears! the sky seemed not a sky Of earth, and with what motion moved the clouds!
Dust as we are, the immortal Spirit grows Like harmony in music; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society. How strange that all
3. A mountain nine miles east of Cockermouth. head, where Wordsworth attended school. 4. The valley of Esthwaite, the location of Hawks-5. Snare or labor.
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33 2 / WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
345 The terrors, pains, and early miseries, Regrets, vexations, lassitudes, interfused Within my mind, should e'er have borne a part, And that a needful part, in making up The calm existence that is mine when I
350 Am worthy of myself! Praise to the end! Thanks to the means which Nature deigned to employ! Whether her fearless visitings or those That came with soft alarm like hurtless lightning Opening the peaceful clouds, or she would use
355 Severer interventions, ministry More palpable, as best might suit her aim.
One summer evening (led by her) I found A little Boat tied to a Willow-tree Within a rocky cave, its usual home.
360 Straight I unloosed her chain, and, stepping in, Pushed from the shore. It was an act of stealth And troubled pleasure, nor without the voice Of mountain-echoes did my Boat move on, Leaving behind her still, on either side,
365 Small circles glittering idly in the moon, Until they melted all into one track Of sparkling light. But now, like one who rows (Proud of his skill) to reach a chosen point With an unswerving line, I fixed my view
370 Upon the summit of a craggy ridge, The horizon's utmost boundary; for above Was nothing but the stars and the grey sky. She was an elfin Pinnace;0 lustily small boat I dipped my oars into the silent lake; 375 And, as I rose upon the stroke, my boat Went heaving through the Water like a swan: When, from behind that craggy Steep, till then The horizon's bound, a huge peak, black and huge, As if with voluntary power instinct,0 endowed 380 Upreared its head.6?I struck, and struck again, And, growing still in stature, the grim Shape Towered up between me and the stars, and still, For so it seemed, with purpose of its own And measured motion, like a living Thing
385 Strode after me. With trembling oars I turned, And through the silent water stole my way Back to the
