From pond to pond he roamed, from moor to moor; Housing, with God's good help, by choice or chance ; And in this way he gained an honest maintenance.

105

XVI

The old Man still stood talking by my side;
But now
1 his voice to me was like a stream
Scarce heard; nor word from word could I divide;
And the whole body of the Man did seem
Like one whom I had met with in a dream;
Or like a man from some far region sent,

To give me human strength, by apt admonishment.2

XVII

My former thoughts returned: the fear that kills

;

And hope that is unwilling to be fed ;

Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly ills;

And mighty Poets in their misery dead.

-Perplexed, and longing to be comforted,4
My question eagerly did I renew,

"How is it that you live, and what is it you do?" 5

And now, not knowing what the Old Man had said, 1807.

And MS. 1802.

But now, perplex'd by what the Old Man had said,

1815.

5 1807.

"

live? what is it that you do?

MS. 1802.

XVIII

He with a smile did then his words repeat;
And said, that, gathering leeches, far and wide
He travelled; stirring thus about his feet
The waters of the pools where they abide.1
"Once I could meet with them on every side;
But they have dwindled long by slow decay ;
Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may." 2

XIX

While he was talking thus, the lonely place,

The old Man's shape, and speech—all troubled me :
In my mind's eye I seemed to see him pace
About the weary moors continually,

Wandering about alone and silently.

While I these thoughts within myself pursued,

120

125

130

He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed.

XX

And soon
3 with this he other matter blended,
Cheerfully uttered, with demeanour kind,
But stately in the main; and when he ended,1
I could have laughed myself to scorn to find

1 1827.

And said, that wheresoe'er they might be spied
He gather'd Leeches, stirring at his feet
The waters in the Ponds

MS. 1802.

And said, that, gathering Leeches, far and wide
He travelled; stirring thus about his feet
The waters of the Ponds

2 1807.

Once he could meet with them on every side;
But fewer they became from day to day,
And so his means of life before him died away.

1807.

135

MS. 1802.

In that decrepit Man so firm a mind.
"God," said I, "be my help and stay secure ;
I'll think of the Leech-gatherer on the lonely moor 199

140

The late Bishop of Lincoln, in the Memoirs of his uncle (vol. i. pp. 172, 173), quotes from a letter, written by Wordsworth "to some friends,' " which has much interest as bearing on this poem.* The following are extracts from it :

"It is not a matter of indifference whether you are pleased with his figure and employment, it may be comparatively whether you are pleased with this Poem; but it is of the utmost importance that you should have had pleasure in contemplating the fortitude, independence, persevering spirit, and the general moral dignity of this old man's character." Again, "I will explain to you, in prose, my feelings in writing that poem. I describe myself as having been exalted to the highest pitch of delight by the joyousness and beauty of nature; and then as depressed, even in the midst of those beautiful objects, to the lowest dejection and despair. A young poet in the midst of the happiness of nature is described as overwhelmed by the thoughts of the miserable reverses which have befallen the happiest of all men, viz. poets. I think of this till I am so deeply impressed with it, that I consider the manner in which I was rescued from my dejection and despair almost as an interposition of Providence. A person reading the poem with feelings like mine will have been awed and controlled, expecting something spiritual or supernatural. What is brought forward? A lonely place, a pond, by which an old man was, far from all house or home:' not stood, nor sat, but was -the figure presented in the most naked simplicity possible. This feeling of spirituality or supernaturalness is again referred to as being strong in my mind in this passage. How came he here? thought I, or what can he be doing? I then describe him, whether ill or well is not for me to judge with perfect confidence; but this I can confidently affirm, that though I believe God has given me a strong imagination, I cannot conceive a figure more impressive than that of an old man like

It is unfortunate that in this, as in many other similar occasions in these delightful volumes by the poet's nephew, the reticence as to names-warrantable perhaps in 1851, so soon after the poet's death-has now deprived the world of every means of knowing to whom many of Wordsworth's letters were addressed. Professor Dowden asks about it-and very naturally"Was it the letter to Mary and Sara" (Hutchinson) "about The LeechGatherer,' mentioned in Dorothy's Journal of 14th June 1802?"-ED.

this, the survivor of a wife and ten children, travelling alone among the mountains and all lonely places, carrying with him his own fortitude and the necessities which an unjust state of society has laid upon him. You speak of his speech as tedious. Every thing is tedious when one does not read with the feelings of the author. The Thorn is tedious to hundreds; and so is The Idiot Boy to hundreds. It is in the character of the old man to tell his story, which an impatient reader must feel tedious. But, good heavens! such a figure, in such a place; a pious, self-respecting, miserably infirm and pleased old man telling such a tale !"-ED.

"I GRIEVED FOR BUONAPARTÉ"

Composed May 21, 1802.-Published 1807 *

[In the cottage of Town-end, one afternoon in 1801, my sister read to me the sonnets of Milton. I had long been well acquainted with them, but I was particularly struck on that occasion with the dignified simplicity and majestic harmony that runs through most of them-in character so totally different from the Italian, and still more so from Shakespeare's fine sonnets. I took fire, if I may be allowed to say so, and produced three sonnets the same afternoon, the first I ever wrote, except an irregular one at school. Of these three the only one

I distinctly remember is 'I grieved for Buonaparté, etc.'; one of the others was never written down; the third, which was I believe preserved, I cannot particularise.—I. F.]

One of the "Sonnets dedicated to Liberty," afterwards called "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty." From the edition of 1815 onwards, it bore the title 1801.-ED.

I GRIEVED for Buonaparté, with a vain

And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood 1

1 1837.

grief! the vital blood

Of that man's mind, what can it be? What food
Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could he gain?

1802.

* It had twice seen the light previously in The Morning Post, first on September 16, 1802, unsigned, and again on January 29, 1803, when it was signed W. L. D.-ED.

Of that Man's mind-what can it be? what food

Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could he gain?

'Tis not in battles that from youth we train
The Governor who must be wise and good,
And temper with the sternness of the brain
Thoughts motherly, and meek as womanhood.
Wisdom doth live with children round her knees:
Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the talk
Man holds with week-day man in the hourly walk
Of the mind's business: these are the degrees
By which true Sway doth mount; this is the stalk
True Power doth grow on; and her rights are these.

5

ΙΟ

Wordsworth's date 1801, in the Fenwick note, should have been 1802. His sister writes, in her Journal of 1802: "May 21.-W. wrote two sonnets on Buonaparte, after I had read Milton's sonnets to him."

The "irregular" sonnet, written "at school," to which Wordsworth refers, is probably the one published in the European Magazine in 1787, vol. xi. p. 202, and signed Axiologus.-ED.

A FAREWELL

Composed May 29, 1802.-Published 1815

[Composed just before my Sister and I went to fetch Mrs. Wordsworth from Gallow-hill, near Scarborough.—I. F.]

This was one of the "Poems founded on the Affections." It was published in 1815 and in 1820 without a title, but with the sub-title Composed in the Year 1802. In 1827 and 1832 it was called A Farewell, to which the sub-title was added. sub-title was omitted in 1836, and afterwards.-ED.

FAREWELL, thou little Nook of mountain-ground,
Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair

grief! for, who aspires

The

To genuine greatness but from just desires,
And knowledge such as He could never gain?

1815.