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There, cleaving to the ground, it lies
With multitude of purple eyes,
Spangling a cushion green like moss;
But we will see it, joyful tide!
Some day, to see it in its pride,

The mountain will we cross."

VII.

-Brother and friend, if verse of mine
Have power to make thy virtues know,
Here let a monumental Stone

Stand-sacred as a Shrine;

And to the few who pass this way,
Traveller or Shepherd, let it say,
Long as these mighty rocks endure,-
Oh do not thou too fondly brood,
Although deserving of all good,

On any earthly hope, however pure!

*

This poem underwent no change in the successive editions.

At a meeting of "The Wordsworth Society" at Grasmere, in July 1881, it was proposed by one of the members, the Rev. H. D. Rawnsley, Vicar of Wray, to erect some memorial at the parting-place of the brothers, John and William Wordsworth, at Grisedale Tarn. The originator of the idea thus writes of it in June 1882 :-

"A proposition, made by one of its members to the Wordsworth Society when it met in Grasmere in 1881, to mark the spot in the Grisedale Pass of Wordsworth's parting from his brother John-and to carry out a wish the poet seems to have hinted at in the last of his elegiac verses in memory of that parting-is now being put into effect. It has been determined, after correspondence with Lord Coleridge, Dr Cradock, Professor Knight, and Mr Hills, to have inscribed—(on the native rock, if possible)—the first four lines of Stanzas III. and VII. of these verses :

'Here did we stop; and here looked round

While each into himself descends,

For that last thought of parting Friends

That is not to be found.

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*The plant alluded to is the Moss Campion (Silene acaulis, of Linnæus). 1845

'Brother and friend, if verse of mine

Have power to make thy virtues known,
Here let a monumental Stone

Stand-sacred as a Shrine.'

"The rock selected is a fine mass, facing the east, on the left of the track as one descends from Grisedale Tarn towards Patterdale, and is about 100 yards from the tarn. No more suitable one can be found, and we have the testimony of Mr David Richardson of Newcastle, who has practical knowledge of engineering, that it is the fittest, both from shape and from slight incline of plane.

"It has been proposed to sink a panel in the face of the rock, that so the inscription may be slightly protected, and to engrave the letters upon the face of the panel thus obtained. But it is not quite certain yet that the grain of the rock-volcanic ash-will admit of the lettering. If this cannot be carried out, it has been determined to have the letters engraved upon a slab of Langdale slate, and imbed it in the Grisedale Rock.

"It is believed that the simplicity of the design, the lonely isolation of this mountain memorial, will appeal at once

... to the few who pass' that 'way,
Traveller or Shepherd.'

And we in our turn appeal to English tourists who may chance to see it, to forego the wish of adding to it, or taking anything from it, by engraving their own names; and to let the Monumental Stone stand, as the poet wished it might

'stand-SACRED as a shrine.'

"We owe great thanks to Mrs Sturge for first surveying the place, to ascertain the possibility of finding a mountain rock sufficiently striking in position; to Mr Richardson, jun., for his etching of the rock, upon which the inscription is to be made; to his father for the kind trouble he took in the measurement of the said rock; and particularly to the seconder of the original proposal, and my coadjutor in the task of final selection and superintending the work, Mr W. H. Hills.

H. D. RAWNSLEY.

"P.S.-When we came to examine the rock, we found the area for the panel less than we had hoped for, owing to certain rock fissures, which, by acting as drains for the rain-water on the surface, would have much interfered with the durability of the inscription. The available space for the panel remains 3 feet 7 in length by 1 foot 9 inches in depth. Owing to the fineness of the grain of the stone, it may be quite possible to letter the native rock; but it has been difficult to fix on a style of lettering for the inscription that shall be at once in good taste, forcible, and plain. It was proposed that the Script type of letter which was made use of in the inscription cut on the rock, in the

late Mr Ball's garden grounds below the Mount at Rydal, should be adopted; but a final decision has been given in favour of a style of lettering which Mrs Rawnsley has designed. The panel is, from its position, certain to attract the eye of the wanderer from Patterdale up to the Grisedale Pass. H. D. R."

See the note to The Waggoner, referring to the "Rock of Names," on the shore of Thirlmere.

The following extract from "Recollections from 1803 to 1837, with a Conclusion in 1868, by the Hon. Amelia Murray" (London: Longmans, Green, & Co. 1868)--refers to the loss of the Abergavenny :

"One morning, coming down early, I saw what I thought was a great big ship without any hull. This was the 'Abergavenny,' East Indiaman, which had sunk with all sails set, hardly three miles from the shore, and all on board perished.

"Had any of the crew taken refuge in the main-top, they might have been saved; but the bowsprit, which was crowded with human beings, gave a lurch into the sea as the ship settled down, and thus all were washed off-though the timber appeared again above water when the Abergavenny' touched the ground. The ship had sprung a leak off St Alban's Head; and in spite of pumps, she went to the bottom just within reach of safety." Pp. 12, 13.

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A "narrative of the loss of the Earl of Abergavenny, East Indiaman, off Portland, Feb. 5, 1805," was published in a pamphlet (8vo, 1805), by Hamilton & Bird, 21 High Street, Islington.

For much in reference to John Wordsworth, which illustrates both these "Elegiac Stanzas," and the poem "On the Naming of Places" which follows them, I must refer to the biographical sketch, to be published in the last volume of this edition; but there is one letter of Dorothy Wordsworth's, written to her friend Miss Jane Pollard (afterwards Mrs Marshall), in reference to her brother's death, which may find a place here. I am indebted for the use of it to the kindness of Mrs Marshall's daughter, the Dowager Lady Monteagle :—

"March 16th, 1805. Grasmere.

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It does me good to weep for him, and it does me good to find that others weep, and I bless them for it. It is with me, when I write, as when I am walking out in this vale, once so full of joy. I can turn to no object that does not remind me of our loss. I see nothing that he would not have loved, and enjoyed. . . . My consolations rather come to me in gusts of feeling, than are the quiet growth of my mind. I know it will not always be so. The time will come when the light of the setting sun upon these mountain tops will be as heretofore a pure joy; not the same gladness, that can never be-but yet a joy even more tender. It will soothe me to know how happy he would have been, could he have seen the same beautiful spectacle. He

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was taken away in the freshness of his manhood : pure he was, and innocent as a child. Never human being was more thoroughly modest, and his courage I need not speak of. He was 'seen speaking with apparent cheerfulness to the first mate a few minutes before the ship went down ;' and when nothing more could be done, He said, 'the will of God be done.' I have no doubt when he felt that it was out of his power to save his life he was as calm as before, if some thought of what we should endure did not awaken a pang. He loved solitude, and he rejoiced in society. He would wander alone amongst these hills with his fishing-rod, or led on by the mere pleasure of walking, for many hours; or he would walk with W. or me, or both of us, and was continually pointing out-with a gladness which is seldom seen but in very young people -something which perhaps would have escaped our observation; for he had so fine an eye that no distinction was unnoticed by him, and so tender a feeling that he never noticed anything in vain. Many a time has he called out to me at evening to look at the moon or stars, or a cloudy sky, or this vale in the quiet moonlight; but the stars and moon were his chief delight. He made of them his companions when he was at sea, and was never tired of those thoughts which the silence of the night fed in him. Then he was so happy by the fireside. Any little business of the house interested him. He loved our cottage. He helped us to furnish it, and to make the garden. Trees are growing now which he planted. He staid with us till the 29th of September, having come to us about the end of January. During that time Mary Hutchinson-now Mary Wordsworth-staid with us six weeks. John used to walk with her every where, and they were exceedingly attached to each other; so my poor sister mourns with us, not merely because we have lost one who was so dear to William and me, but from tender love to John and an intimate knowledge of him. Her hopes as well as ours were fixed on John. . . . I can think of nothing but of our departed Brother, yet I am very tranquil to-day. I honour him, and love him, and glory in his memory.

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See also the note to the following poem, and Appendix, Note II.-ED.

WHEN TO THE ATTRACTIONS OF THE BUSY

WORLD.

Comp. 1805.

Pub. 1815.

[The grove still exists; but the plantation has been walled in, and is not so accessible as when my brother John wore the path in the manner here described. The grove was a favourite haunt with us all' while we lived at Town-end.]

WHEN, to the attractions of the busy world,
Preferring studious leisure, I had chosen

A habitation in this peaceful Vale,
Sharp season followed of continual storm

In deepest winter; and, from week to week,
Pathway, and lane, and public road, were clogged
With frequent showers of snow. Upon a hill
At a short distance from my cottage, stands
A stately Fir-grove, whither I was wont
To hasten, for I found, beneath the roof
Of that perennial shade, a cloistral place
Of refuge, with an unincumbered floor.
Here, in safe covert, on the shallow snow,
And, sometimes, on a speck of visible earth,
The redbreast near me hopped; nor was I loth
To sympathise with vulgar coppice birds
That, for protection from the nipping blast,
Hither repaired.-A single beech-tree grew
Within this grove of firs! and, on the fork
Of that one beech, appeared a thrush's nest;
A last year's nest, conspicuously built
At such small elevation from the ground.
As gave sure sign that they, who in that house
Of nature and of love had made their home
Amid the fir-trees, all the summer long

Dwelt in a tranquil spot. And oftentimes,

A few sheep, stragglers from some mountain-flock,
Would watch my motions with suspicious stare,
From the remotest outskirts of the grove,-
Some nook where they had made their final stand,
Huddling together from two fears-the fear
Of me and of the storm. Full many an hour
Here did I lose. But in this grove the trees
Had been so thickly planted, and had thriven
In such perplexed and intricate array,

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