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a Female Friend; .. if any one regard them with dislike, or be disposed to condemn them, let the censure fall upon him, who, trusting in his own sense of their merit, and their fitness for the place which they occupy, extorted them from the Authoress." In the edition of 1845, he disclosed the authorship; and gave the more natural title, “by my sister." The other two poems by her, introduced into the edition of 1815 and subsequent ones, were the Address to a Child, and The Mother's Return. At least one other poem by Dorothy Wordsworth, hitherto unpublished, will be given, in a subsequent volume, in the year to which it belongs.-ED.

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[Written at Town-end, Grasmere. The characters and story from fact.]

"In Cairo's crowded streets

The impatient Merchant, wondering, waits in vain,

And Mecca saddens at the long delay."




When I sent you, a few weeks ago, the Tale of Peter Bell, you asked "why THE WAGGONER was not added?"-To say the truth,-from the higher tone of imagination, and the deeper touches of passion aimed at in the former, I apprehended, this little Piece could not accompany it without disadvantage. In the year 1806, if I am not mistaken, THE WAGGONER was read to you in manuscript, and, as you have remembered it for so long a time, I am the more encouraged to hope that, since the localities on which the Poem partly depends did not prevent its being interesting to you, it may prove acceptable to others. Being therefore in some measure the cause of its present appearance, you must allow me the gratification of inscribing it to you; in acknowledgment of the pleasure I have derived from your Writings, and of the high esteem with which I am

Very truly yours,

RYDAL MOUNT, May 20, 1819.



'Tis spent this burning day of June!

Soft darkness o'er its latest gleams is stealing;

The buzzing dor-hawk, round and round, is wheeling,—


That solitary bird

Is all that can be heard

In silence deeper far than that of deepest noon !1

Confiding Glow-worms, 'tis a night Propitious to your earth-born light! But, where the scattered stars are seen In hazy straits the clouds between, Each, in his station twinkling not, Seems changed into a pallid spot.2


The Night-hawk is singing his frog-like tune,
Twirling his watchman's rattle about.

The dor-hawk, solitary bird,

MS. of 1805

Round the dim crags on heavy pinions whirling,

Buzzes incessantly, a tiresome tune :


That constant voice is all that can be heard

In silence deeper far than that of deepest noon!


On heavy pinions wheeling,

With untired voice sings an unvaried tune;

Those burring notes are all that can be heard
In silence deeper far than that of deepest noon!

The text of 1845 returns to the first version of 1819.


Now that the children's busiest schemes

Do all lie buried in blank sleep,

Or only live in stirring dreams,

The glow-worms fearless watch may keep ;
Rich prize as their bright lamps would be,
They shine a quiet company,

On mossy bank by cottage-door,

As safe as on the loneliest moor.
In hazy straits the clouds between,
And in their stations twinkling not,
Some thinly sprinkled stars are seen,
Each changed into a pallid spot.

The text of 1845 returns to that of 1819.




The mountains against heaven's grave weight
Rise up, and grow to wondrous height.1
The air, as in a lion's den,

Is close and hot;-and now and then
Comes a tired and sultry breeze 2
With a haunting and a panting,
Like the stifling of disease;
But the dews allay the heat,3

And the silence makes it sweet.

Hush, there is some one on the stir!
"Tis Benjamin the Waggoner;

Who long hath trod this toilsome way,
Companion of the night and day.
That far-off tinkling's drowsy cheer,
Mix'd with a faint yet grating sound.
In a moment lost and found,
The Wain announces- -by whose side
Along the banks of Rydal Mere
He paces on, a trusty Guide,--
Listen! you can scarcely hear!


The mountains rise to wondrous height,
And in the heavens there is a weight;

The mountains rise to wondrous height,

And in the heavens there hangs a weight;



In edd. 1819 to 1832, these two lines follow the line "like the stifling of disease."

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Hither he his course is bending;-
Now he leaves the lower ground,
And up the craggy hill ascending
Many a stop and stay he makes,
Many a breathing-fit he takes ;-1
Steep the way and wearisome,

Yet all the while his whip is dumb!

The Horses have worked with right good-will,

And so have gained the top of the hill;2
He was patient, they were strong,
And now they smoothly glide along,
Recovering breath, and pleased to win 3
The praises of mild Benjamin.

Heaven shield him from mishap and snare!
But why so early with this prayer?-

Is it for threatenings in the sky?

Or for some other danger nigh?

No; none is near him yet, though he

Be one of much infirmity ;*

For at the bottom of the brow,

Where once the DOVE and OLIVE-BOUGH


Listen! you can hardly hear!
Now he has left the lower ground,
And up the hill his course is bending,
With many a stop and stay ascending.

Ed. 1845 returns to the text of 1819.


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Offered a greeting of good ale

To all who entered Grasmere Vale;
And called on him who must depart
To leave it with a jovial heart;
There, where the DOVE and OLIVE-BOUGH
Once hung, a Poet harbours now,
A simple water-drinking Bard;
Why need our Hero then (though frail
His best resolves) be on his guard?
He marches by, secure and bold;
Yet while he thinks on times of old,
It seems that all looks wondrous cold;
He shrugs his shoulders, shakes his head,
And, for the honest folk within,
It is a doubt with Benjamin
Whether they be alive or dead!

Here is no danger,-none at all! Beyond his wish he walks secure ;1


pass a mile-and then for trial,—
Then for the pride of self-denial;
If he resist that tempting door,
Which with such friendly voice will call;
If he resist those casement panes,

And that bright gleam which thence will fall
Upon his Leader's bells and manes,
Inviting him with cheerful lure :
For still, though all be dark elsewhere,
Some shining notice will be there



open house and ready fare.

Beyond his wish is he secure.


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