The Author describes his travels with the Wanderer, whose character is further illustrated-Morning scene, and view of a Village Wake-Wanderer's account of a Friend whom he purposes to visit- View, from an eminence, of the Valley which his Friend had chosen for his retreat1-Sound of singing from below-A funeral procession-Descent into the Valley-Observations drawn from the Wanderer at sight of a book accidentally discovered in a recess in the Valley-Meeting with the Wanderer's friend, the Solitary— Wanderer's description of the mode of burial in this mountainous district—Solitary contrasts with this, that of the individual carried a few minutes before from the cottage 2-The cottage entered-Description of the Solitary's apartment-Repast there-View, from the window, of two mountain summits; and the Solitary's description of the companionship they afford him-Account of the departed inmate of the cottage-Description of a grand spectacle upon the mountains, with its effect upon the Solitary's mind— Leave the house.
IN days of yore how fortunately fared
The Minstrel! wandering on from hall to hall, Baronial court or royal; cheered with gifts Munificent, and love, and ladies' praise; Now meeting on his road an armed knight, Now resting with a pilgrim by the side Of a clear brook ;-beneath an abbey's roof
1 -feelings of the Author at the sight of it—
Inserted from 1814 to 1832.
Inserted from 1814 to 1832.
One evening sumptuously lodged; the next, Humbly in a religious hospital;
Or with some merry outlaws of the wood; Or haply shrouded in a hermit's cell.
Him, sleeping or awake, the robber spared ; He walked-protected from the sword of war By virtue of that sacred instrument His harp, suspended at the traveller's side; His dear companion wheresoe'er he went Opening from land to land an easy way By melody, and by the charm of verse. Yet not the noblest of that honoured Race Drew happier, loftier, more empassioned, thoughts From his long journeyings and eventful life, Than this obscure Itinerant had skill
To gather, ranging through the tamer ground Of these our unimaginative days;
Both while he trod the earth in humblest guise Accoutred with his burthen and his staff; And now, when free to move with lighter pace.
What wonder, then, if I, whose favourite school Hath been the fields, the roads, and rural lanes, 2 Looked on this guide with reverential love? Each with the other pleased, we now pursued Our journey, under 3 favourable skies. Turn wheresoe'er we would, he was a light Unfailing not a hamlet could we pass,
Than this obscure Itinerant (an obscure, But a high-souled and tender-hearted Man) Had skill to draw from many a ramble, far And wide protracted, through the tamer ground And pathways winding on from farm to farm,
This line appeared only in 1814 and 1820.
Rarely a house, that1 did not yield to him Remembrances; or from his tongue call forth Some way-beguiling tale. Nor less regard Accompanied those strains of apt discourse, Which nature's various objects might inspire; 2 And in the silence of his face I read
His overflowing spirit. Birds and beasts, And the mute fish that glances in the stream, And harmless reptile coiling in the sun, And gorgeous insect hovering in the air, The fowl domestic, and the household dog— In his capacious mind, he loved them all : Their rights acknowledging he felt for all. Oft was occasion given me to perceive How the calm pleasures of the pasturing herd To happy contemplation soothed his walk; 3 How the poor brute's condition, forced to run Its course of suffering in the public road, Sad contrast! all too often smote his heart With unavailing pity. Rich in love And sweet humanity, he was, himself, To the degree that he desired, beloved. Smiles of good-will from faces that he knew Greeted us all day long ; 4 we took our seats By many a cottage-hearth, where he received The welcome of an Inmate from afar,5
-Greetings and smiles we met with all day long From faces that he knew ;
And I at once forgot, I was a Stranger.1
-Nor was he loth to enter ragged huts, Huts where his charity 2 was blest; his voice Heard as the voice of an experienced friend.
And, sometimes-where the poor man held dispute With his own mind, unable to subdue Impatience through inaptness to perceive General distress in his particular lot; Or cherishing resentment, or in vain Struggling against it; with a soul perplexed, And finding in herself3 no steady power To draw the line of comfort that divides Calamity, the chastisement of Heaven, From the injustice of our brother men— To him appeal was made as to a judge; Who, with an understanding heart, allayed The perturbation; listened to the plea; Resolved the dubious point; and sentence gave So grounded, so applied, that it was heard With softened spirit, even when it condemned.
Such intercourse I witnessed, while we roved, Now as his choice directed, now as mine; Or both, with equal readiness of will, Our course submitting to the changeful breeze Of accident. But when the rising sun Had three times called us to renew our walk, My Fellow-traveller, with earnest voice, As if the thought were but a moment old, Claimed absolute dominion for the day.1
My Fellow Traveller said with earnest voice, As if the thought were but a moment old,
We started-and he led me toward the hills,1 Up through an ample vale, with higher hills Before us, mountains stern and desolate ;* But, in the majesty of distance, now Set off, and to our ken appearing fair Of aspect, with aërial softness clad, And beautified with morning's purple beams.
The wealthy, the luxurious, by the stress Of business roused, or pleasure, ere their time, May roll in chariots, or provoke the hoofs Of the fleet coursers they bestride, to raise From earth the dust of morning, slow to rise; And they, if blest with health and hearts at ease, Shall lack not their enjoyment :--but how faint Compared with ours! who, pacing side by side, Could, with an eye of leisure, look on all That we beheld; and lend the listening sense To every grateful sound of earth and air; Pausing at will-our spirits braced, our thoughts Pleasant as roses in the thickets blown, And pure as dew bathing their crimson leaves.
Mount slowly, sun! that we may journey long,
* In the Fenwick note Wordsworth says, "In the poem, I suppose that the Pedlar and I ascended from a plain country up the vale of Langdale. and struck off a good way above the chapel to the western side of the vale.' They start from Grasmere, cross over to Langdale by Red Bank and High Close, and walk up the lower part of the valley of Great Langdale, past Elter Water and Chapel Stile.-ED.
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