Now let us, as we float along,
For him suspend the dashing oar;
And pray that never child of song
May know that Poet's sorrows more,
How calm how still! the only sound,
The dripping of the oar suspended!
-The evening darkness gathers round
By virtue's holiest Powers attended.

DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES

TAKEN DURING A PEDESTRIAN TOUR AMONG THE ALPS.

Comp. 1791-2.

Pub. 1793.

[Much the greatest part of this poem was composed during my walks upon the banks of the Loire, in the years 1791, 1792. I will only notice that the description of the valley filled with mist, beginning—“ In solemn shapes"—was taken from that beautiful region of which the principal features are Lungarn and Sarnen. Nothing that I ever saw in Nature left a more delightful impression on my mind than that which I have attempted, alas, how feebly! to convey to others in these lines. Those two lakes have always interested me especially, from bearing in their size and other features, a resemblance to those of the north of England. It is much to be deplored that a district so beautiful should be so unhealthy as it is.]

TO THE REV. ROBERT JONES, FELLOW OF ST JOHN'S COLLEGE,

CAMBRIDGE.

DEAR SIR, However desirous I might have been of giving you proofs of the high place you hold in my esteem, I should have been cautious of wounding your delicacy by thus publicly addressing you, had not the circumstance of our having been companions among the Alps seemed to give this dedication a propriety sufficient to do away any scruples which your modesty might otherwise have suggested.

In inscribing this little work to you, I consult my heart. You know well how great is the difference between two companions lolling in a post-chaise, and two travellers plodding slowly along the road, side by side, each with his little knapsack of necessaries upon his shoulders. How much more of heart between the two latter !

I am happy in being conscious that I shall have one reader who will approach the conclusion of these few pages with regret. You they must

certainly interest, in reminding you of moments to which you can hardly look back without a pleasure not the less dear from a shade of melancholy. You will meet with few images without recollecting the spot where we observed them together; consequently, whatever is feeble in my design, or spiritless in my colouring, will be amply supplied by your own memory.

With still greater propriety I might have inscribed to you a descrip tion of some of the features of your native mountains, through which we have wandered together, in the same manner, with so much pleasure. But the sea-sunsets, which give such splendour to the vale of Clwyd, Snowden, the chair of Idris, the quiet village of Bethgelert, Menai and her Druids, the Alpine steeps of the Conway, and the still more interesting windings of the wizard stream of the Dee, remain yet untouched. Apprehensive that my pencil may never be exercised on these subjects, I cannot let slip this opportunity of thus publicly assuring you with how much affection and esteem

I am, dear Sir,

London, 1793.

Most sincerely yours,
W. WORDSWORTH.

Happiness (if she had been to be found on earth) among the charms of Nature -Pleasures of the pedestrian Traveller-Author crosses France to the Alps-Present state of the Grande Chartreuse-Lake of Como-Time, Sunset-Same Scene, Twilight-Same Scene, Morning; its voluptuous Character; Old man and forest-cottage music-River Tusa-Via Mala and Grison Gipsy― Sckellenen-thal-Lake of Uri- Stormy sunset Chapel of William Tell-Force of local emotion-Chamois-chaser-View of the higher Alps – Manner of Life of a Swiss mountaineer, interspersed with views of the higher Alps-Golden Age of the Alps-Life and views continued-Ranz des Vaches, famous Swiss Air-Abbey of Einsiedlen and its pilgrims-Valley of Chamouny-Mont Blanc-Slavery of Savoy -Influence of liberty on cottage-happiness-France-Wish for the Extirpation of Slavery--Conclusion,

WERE there, below, a spot of holy ground

Where from distress a refuge might be found,'
And solitude prepare the soul for heaven;
Sure, nature's God that spot to man had given 2

2

Where falls the purple morning far and wide

In flakes of light upon the mountain side;

1

Where with loud voice the power of water shakes 1
The leafy wood, or sleeps in quiet lakes.

Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam, Who at the call of summer quits his home,

And plods through some wide realm o'er vale and height Though seeking only holiday delight;

.2

At least, not owning to himself an aim

To which the sage would give a prouder name.
No gains too cheaply earned his fancy cloy,
Though every passing zephyr whispers joy;
Brisk toil, alternating with ready ease,
Feeds the clear current of his sympathies.3
For him sod-seats the cottage-door adorn;
And peeps the far-off spire, his evening bourn!

And not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
Who, to convene with Nature, quits his home,
And plods o'er hills and vales his way forlorn,
Wooing her various charms from eve to morn.
Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
Who at the call of summer quits his home,

1820.

And plods through some far realm o'er vale and height,
Though seeking only holiday delight.

1827.

3

1827.

No sad vacuities his heart annoy ;—

Blows not a zephyr but it whispers joy;

For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale ;
He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale;
No sad vacuities his heart annoy,
Breathes not a zephyr but it whispers joy;
For him the lowliest flowers their sweets exhale;
He marks "the meanest note that swells the gale,"*

1815.

1820.

Dear is the forest frowning o'er his head,
And dear the velvet green-sward to his tread: 1
Moves there a cloud o'er mid-day's flaming eye?
Upward he looks-" and calls it luxury:"
Kind Nature's charities his steps attend;
In every babbling brook he finds a friend;

While chastening thoughts of sweetest use, bestowed
By wisdom, moralise his pensive road.

Host of his welcome inn, the noon-tide bower,
To his spare meal he calls the passing poor;
He views the sun uplift his golden fire,
Or sink, with heart alive like* Memnon's lyre;
Blesses the moon that comes with kindly ray,
To light him shaken by his rugged way.2
Back from his sight no bashful children steal;
He sits a brother at the cottage-meal; 3
His humble looks no shy restraint impart;
Around him plays at will the virgin heart.
While unsuspended wheels the village dance,
The maidens eye him with enquiring glance,
Much wondering by what fit of crazing care,
Or desperate love, bewildered, he came there.4

Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing care,
Or desperate Love could lead a wanderer there.
Much wondering in what fit of crazing care
Or desperate love, a wanderer came there.

1815.

1836.

*The lyre of Memnon is reported to have emitted melancholy or cheer

ful tones, as it was touched by the sun's evening or morning rays. 1815.

A hope, that prudence could not then approve,
That clung to Nature with a truant's love,
O'er Gallia's wastes of corn my footsteps led;
Her files of road-elms, high above my head
In long-drawn vista, rustling in the breeze,
Or where her pathways straggle as they please
By lonely farms and secret villages.

But lo! the Alps, ascending white in air,
Toy with the sun and glitter from afar.1

And now, emerging from the forest's gloom,
I greet thee, Chartreuse, while I mourn thy doom.
Whither is fled that Power whose frown severe
Awed sober Reason till she crouched in fear??
That Silence, once in deathlike fetters bound,
Chains that were loosened only by the sound
Of holy rites chanted in measured round?

1 1836.

Me, lured by hope her sorrows to remove,
A heart that could not much itself approve,
O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led,

Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe

Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear?

That breathed a death-like peace their woods around; 1815.

Even now emerging from the forest's gloom,

I heave a sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.

Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear.

Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe,

1820.