"THE MASSY WAYS, CARRIED ACROSS
THESE HEIGHTS"

Composed 1826.-Published 1835*

[The walk is what we call the Far-terrace, beyond the summer-house at Rydal Mount. The lines were written when we were afraid of being obliged to quit the place to which we were so much attached.-I. F.]

One of the "Inscriptions."-ED.

THE massy Ways, carried across these heights 1
By Roman perseverance, † are destroyed,
Or hidden under ground, like sleeping worms.
How venture then to hope that Time will spare 2
This humble Walk? Yet on the mountain's side
A POET'S hand first shaped it; and the steps
Of that same Bard-repeated to and fro
At morn, at noon, and under moonlight skies

MS.

Of that same Bard, by pacing to and fro
At morn, and noon,

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* The title of these lines in the edition of 1835 was Inscription.-ED. † Referring to the Roman Way, fragments of which are to be seen on High Street. Ambleside was a Roman station. "At the upper corner of Windermere lieth the dead carcase of an ancient city, with great ruins of walls, and many heaps of rubbish, one from another, remaining of building without the walls, yet to be seen. The fortress thereof was somewhat long, fenced with a ditch and rampire, took up in length 132 ells, and breadth 80. That it had been the Romans' work is evident by the British bricks, by the mortar tempered with little pieces of brick among it, by small earthen pots or pitchers, by small cruets or phials of glass, by pieces of Roman money oftentimes found, and by round stones as big as millstones or quernstones, of which laid and couched together they framed in old times their columns, and by the paved ways leading to it. Now the ancient name is gone, uniess a man would guess at it, and think it were that Amboglana, whereof the book of notices maketh mention, seeing at this day it is called Ambleside."--See Camden's Britannia, 645 (edition 1590).-ED.

FAREWELL LINES

155

Through the vicissitudes of many a year-
Forbade the weeds to creep o'er its grey line.
No longer, scattering to the heedless winds
The vocal raptures of fresh poesy,

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Shall he frequent these precincts; locked no more

In earnest converse with beloved Friends,

Here will he gather stores of ready bliss,

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As from the beds and borders of a garden

Choice flowers are gathered! But, if Power may spring

Out of a farewell yearning-favoured more

Than kindred wishes mated suitably

With vain regrets-the Exile would consign

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This Walk, his loved possession, to the care

Of those pure Minds that reverence the Muse.1

FAREWELL LINES *

Composed 1826. - Published 1842

[These lines were designed as a farewell to Charles Lamb and his sister, who had retired from the throngs of London to comparative solitude in the village of Enfield. I. F.]

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."-ED.

1 1835.

its gray line.

Murmuring his unambitious verse alone,

Or in sweet converse with beloved Friends.

No more must he frequent it. Yet might power

Follow the yearnings of the spirit, he

Reluctantly departing, would consign

This walk, his heart's possession, to the care

Of those pure Minds that reverence the Muse.

MS.

* As Charles Lamb retired to Enfield in 1826, these lines cannot have been composed much later than that year, although they were not published till 1842. Lamb wrote thus to Wordsworth on the 6th of April 1825: "I came home FOR EVER on Tuesday in last week. The incomprehensibleness of my condition overwhelmed me. It was like passing from life into eternity. I wandered about, thinking I was happy, but feeling I was not.

But

"HIGH bliss is only for a higher state," *
But, surely, if severe afflictions borne
With patience merit the reward of peace,
Peace ye deserve; and may the solid good,
Sought by a wise though late exchange, and here
With bounteous hand beneath a cottage-roof
To you accorded, never be withdrawn,
Nor for the world's best promises renounced.
Most soothing was it for a welcome Friend,
Fresh from the crowded city, to behold
That lonely union, privacy so deep,

Such calm employments, such entire content.
So when the rain is over, the storm laid,
A pair of herons oft-times have I seen,
Upon a rocky islet, side by side,

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Drying their feathers in the sun, at ease;
And so, when night with grateful gloom had fallen,
Two glow-worms in such nearness that they shared,

As seemed, their soft self-satisfying light,

Each with the other, on the dewy ground,
Where He that made them blesses their repose.-
When wandering among lakes and hills I note,
Once more, those creatures thus by nature paired,
And guarded in their tranquil state of life,
Even, as your happy presence to my mind
Their union brought, will they repay the debt,

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And send a thankful spirit back to you,

With hope that we, dear Friends! shall meet again.

that tumultuousness is passing off, and I begin to understand the nature of the gift. Holidays, even the annual month, were always uneasy joys: their conscious fugitiveness; the craving after making the most of them. Now, when all is holiday, there are no holidays. I can sit at home, in rain or shine, without a restless impulse for walkings. I am daily steadying, and shall soon find it as natural to me to be my own master, as it has been irksome to have had a master. Mary wakes every morning with an obscure feeling that some good has happened to us."-ED.

* See Thomson's lines To the Reverend Patrick Murdoch, Rector of Stradishall, in Suffolk, 1738, 1. 10.-ED.

1827

THE poems composed in 1827 were for the most part sonnets. But several of those first published in 1827 evidently belong to an earlier year, the date of which it is impossible to discover.

One of the "Poems of the Fancy."-ED.

Frowns are on every Muse's face,
Reproaches from their lips are sent,
That mimicry should thus disgrace
The noble Instrument.

A very Harp in all but size !
Needles for strings in apt gradation !

Minerva's self would stigmatize
The unclassic profanation.

Even her own needle that subdued
Arachne's rival spirit,†

* Edith May Southey.-ED.

† Arachne, daughter of a dyer of Colophon, skilful with her needle, challenged Minerva to a trial of skill. Minerva defeated her, and committing suicide, she was changed by the goddess into a spider.-ED.

1

Though wrought in Vulcan's happiest mood,
Such honour 1 could not merit.

And this, too, from the Laureate's Child,
A living lord of melody !
How will her Sire be reconciled

To the refined indignity?

I spake, when whispered a low voice,
"Bard! moderate your ire;

Spirits of all degrees rejoice

In presence of the lyre.

The Minstrels of Pygmean bands,*
Dwarf Genii, moonlight-loving Fays,

Have shells to fit their tiny hands
And suit their slender lays.
Some, still more delicate of ear,
Have lutes (believe my words)
Whose framework is of gossamer,
While sunbeams are the chords.

Gay Sylphs † this miniature will court,
Made vocal by their brushing wings,
And sullen Gnomes† will learn to sport
Around its polished strings;

Whence strains to love-sick maiden dear,
While in her lonely bower she tries
To cheat the thought she cannot cheer,
By fanciful embroideries.

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1845.

Like station

1827.

* Pygmæi, the nation of Lilliputian dwarfs, fabled to dwell in India, or Ethiopia. (See Ovid, Metamorphoses, vi. 90; Aristotle, De Anima, viii. 12.)-ED.

† According to mediæval belief, the Sylphs were elemental spirits of the air; the Gnomes the elemental spirits of the earth. "The Gnomes or Dæmons of Earth delight in mischief; but the Sylphs, whose habitation is in the Air, are the best-condition'd creatures imaginable." - (See Pope, Rape of the Lock, Preface.)-ED.