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And yet a boon I gave her, for the creature

Was beautiful to see a weed of glorious feature.*

I left her, and pursued my way;

And soon before me did espy

A pair of little Boys at play,

Chasing a crimson butterfly;

The taller followed with his hat in hand,

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Wreathed round with yellow flowers the gayest of the

land. 1

The other wore a rimless crown

With leaves of laurel stuck about;

And, while both 2 followed up and down,

Each whooping with a merry shout,

In their fraternal features I could trace

Unquestionable lines of that wild Suppliant's face. 3

Yet they, so blithe of heart, seemed fit 4

For finest tasks of earth or air:

Wings let them have, and they might flit
Precursors to 5 Aurora's car,

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Scattering fresh flowers; though happier far, I ween, 35 To hunt their fluttering game o'er rock and level green.

They dart across my path-but lo,6

Each ready with a plaintive whine!

1 1807.

With yellow flowers around, as with a golden band.

C.

2 1827.

1807.

And they both

3 1820.

Two Brothers seem'd they, eight and ten years old;

4 This stanza was added in the edition of 1827.

And like that Woman's face as gold is like to gold. 1807.

5 1836.

1827.

Precursors of.

6 1827.

They bolted on me thus, and lo!

1807.

* In the MS. of this poem (1807) the words, "a weed of glorious feature," are placed within inverted commas. The quotation is from Spenser's Muiopotmos (The Fate of the Butterflie), stanza 27; and is important, as it affects the meaning of the phrase. It is curious that Wordsworth dropped the commas in his subsequent editions.-ED.

Said I, "not half an hour ago

Your Mother has had alms of mine."

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"she is dead: ".

"That cannot be," one answered

I looked reproof-they saw-but neither hung his head. 1

2

"She has been dead, Sir, many a day."“Hush, boys! you're telling me a lie ;2 It was your Mother, as I say!"

And, in the twinkling of an eye,

"Come! come!" cried one, and without more ado, Off to some other play the joyous Vagrants flew !3*

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SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING,

COMPOSED MANY YEARS AFTER

Composed 1817.-Published 1827

In the edition of 1840 the year assigned to this Sequel is 1817. It does not occur in the edition of 1820, but was first published in 1827. It was one of the "Poems of the Imagination."-Ed.

WHERE are they now, those wanton Boys?
For whose free range the dædal earth

1 1827.

"Nay but I gave her pence, and she will buy you

1807.

bread."

2 1845.

"Sweet Boys, you're telling me a lie;

1807.

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* In Wordsworth's letter to Barron Field, of 24th October 1828 (see the volumes containing his correspondence), a detailed account is given of the reasons which had led him to alter the text of this poem.-ED.

Was filled with animated toys,

And implements of frolic mirth;
With tools for ready wit to guide ;

And ornaments of seemlier pride,

More fresh, more bright, than princes wear;
For what one moment flung aside,

Another could repair;

What good or evil have they seen
Since I their pastime witnessed here,
Their daring wiles, their sportive cheer?
I ask but all is dark between !

1

They met me in a genial hour,

When universal nature breathed

As with the breath of one sweet flower,-
A time to overrule the power

Of discontent, and check the birth

Of thoughts with better thoughts at strife,
The most familiar bane of life

Since parting Innocence bequeathed
Mortality to Earth!

Soft clouds, the whitest of the year,

Sailed through the sky—the brooks ran clear;
The lambs from rock to rock were bounding;
With songs the budded groves resounding;

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Ye, by a course to nature true,

The sterner judgment can subdue;
And waken a relenting smile

When she encounters fraud or guile;
And sometimes ye can charm away
The inward mischief, or allay,
Ye, who within the blameless mind

Your favourite seat of empire find!

The above is a separate stanza in the editions of 1827 and 1832. Only the first two and the last two lines of this stanza were re

tained in the edition of 1836, and were then transferred to the place they occupy in the final text.-ED.

And to my heart are still endeared

The thoughts with which it then was cheered;1
The faith which saw that gladsome pair
Walk through the fire with unsinged hair.
Or, if such faith 2 must needs deceive—
Then, Spirits of beauty and of grace,*
Associates in that eager chase;
Ye, who within the blameless mind
Your favourite seat of empire find-
Kind Spirits! may we not believe
That they, so happy and so fair

Through your sweet influence, and the care
Of pitying Heaven, at least were free

From touch of deadly injury?

Destined, whate'er their earthly doom,

For mercy and immortal bloom?

TO A BUTTERFLY

Composed March 14, 1802.--Published 1807

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[Written in the Orchard, Town-end, Grasmere. My sister and I were parted immediately after the death of our mother, who died in 1778, both being very young.-I. F.]

One of the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood." -ED.

STAY near me-do not take thy flight!

A little longer stay in sight!

Much converse do I find in thee,

Historian of my infancy!

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* This and the three following lines were placed here in the edition of 1836. See note to the previous page.-Er.

Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
A solemn image to my heart,

My father's family!

Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when, in our childish plays,
My sister Emmeline* and I
Together chased the butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush

Upon the prey :—with leaps and springs
I followed on from brake to bush ;

But she, God love her! feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.

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The text of this poem was never changed. It refers to days of childhood spent at Cockermouth before 1778. "My sister Emmeline" is Dorothy Wordsworth. In her Grasmere Journal, of Sunday, March 14, 1802, the following occurs :-" While we were at breakfast he " (William) "wrote the poem To a Butterfly. He ate not a morsel, but sate with his shirt neck unbuttoned, and his waistcoat open when he did it. The thought first came upon him as we were talking about the pleasure we both always felt at the sight of a butterfly. I told him that I used to chase them a little, but that I was afraid of brushing the dust off their wings, and did not catch them. He told me how he used to kill all the white ones when he went to school, because they were Frenchmen. Mr. Simpson came in just as he was finishing the poem. After he was gone, I wrote it down, and the other poems, and I read them all over to him. William began to try to alter The Butterfly, and tired himself.” Compare the later poem To a Butterfly (April 20), p. 297. -ED.

THE EMIGRANT MOTHER

Composed March 16th and 17th, 1802.-Published 1807

[Suggested by what I have noticed in more than one French fugitive during the time of the French Revolution. If I am

* In the MS. for the edition of 1807 the transcriber (not W. W.) wrote "Dorothy." This, Wordsworth erased, putting in "Emmeline."—ÉD.

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