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Who are to judge of danger which they fear,
And honour which they do not understand.*

Napoleon won the battle of Jena on the 14th October 1806, entered Potsdam on the 25th, and Berlin on the 28th; Prince Hohenlohe laid down his arms on the 6th November; Blücher surrendered at Lübeck on the 7th; Magdeburg was taken on the 8th; on the 14th the French occupied Hanover; and on the 21st Napoleon issued his Berlin decree for the blockade of England.-ED.

ADDRESS TO A CHILD

DURING A BOISTEROUS WINTER EVENING

BY MY SISTER

Composed 1806. -Published 1815

[Written at Town-end, Grasmere. I. F.]

One of the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."

-ED.

WHAT way does the Wind come? What way does he go?

He rides over the water, and over the snow,
Through wood, and through vale; and, o'er rocky height
Which the goat cannot climb, takes his sounding flight;
He tosses about in every bare tree,

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As, if you look up, you plainly may see;

But how he will come, and whither he goes,

There's never a scholar in England knows.

* Who are to judge of danger which they fear
And honour which they do not understand.

These two lines from Lord Brooke's Life of Sir Philip Sydney.-W. W. 1807.

"Danger which they fear, and honour which they understand not." Words in Lord Brooke's Life of Sir P. Sidney.-W. W. 1837.

He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook,
And ring 1 a sharp 'larum ;-but, if you should look,
There's nothing to see but a cushion of snow
Round as a pillow, and whiter than milk,
And softer than if it were covered with silk.

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Sometimes he'll hide in the cave of a rock,
Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard cock;
-Yet seek him, and what shall you find in the place ?

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Nothing but silence and empty space;

Save, in a corner, a heap of dry leaves,

That he's left, for a bed, to 2 beggars or thieves!

As soon as 'tis daylight to-morrow, with me

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You shall go to the orchard, and then you will see
That he has been there, and made a great rout,
And cracked the branches, and strewn them about ;
Heaven grant that he spare but that one upright twig
That looked up at the sky so proud and big
All last summer, as well you know,
Studded with apples, a beautiful show!

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Hark! over the roof he makes a pause,
And growls as if he would fix his claws

Right in the slates, and with a huge rattle

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Drive them down, like men in a battle :
-But let him range round; he does us no harm,
We build up the fire, we're snug and warm ;
Untouched by his breath see the candle shines bright,

And burns with a clear and steady light;

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Books have we to read, but that half-stifled knell,

Alas! 'tis the sound of the eight o'clock bell.

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-Come now we'll to bed! and when we are there
He may work his own will, and what shall we care ?
He may knock at the door,
we'll not let him in;
May drive at the windows, we'll laugh at his din;
Let him seek his own home wherever it be;
Here's a cozie warm house for Edward and me.

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Wordsworth dated this poem 1806, and said to Miss Fenwick that it was written at Grasmere. If it was written "during a boisterous winter evening" in 1806, it could not have been written at Grasmere; because the Wordsworths spent most of that winter at Coleorton. I am inclined to believe that the date which the poet gave is wrong, and that the Address really belongs to the year 1805; but, as it is just possible thatalthough referring to winter-it may have been written at Townend in the summer of 1806, it is placed among the poems belonging to the latter year.

This Address was translated into French by Mme. Amable Tastu, and published in a popular school-book series of extracts, but Wordsworth's name is not given along with the translation. From 1815 to 1843 the authorship was veiled under the title, "by a female Friend of the Author." In 1845, it was disclosed, "by my Sister."

In 1815 Charles Lamb wrote to Wordsworth, "We were glad to see the poems 'by a female friend.' The one of the Wind is masterly, but not new to us. Being only three, perhaps you might have clapt a D. at the corner, and let it have past as a printer's mark to the uninitiated, as a delightful hint to the better instructed. As it is, expect a formal criticism on the poems of your female friend, and she must expect it." (The Letters of Charles Lamb, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p. 285.)-ED.

"BROOK! WHOSE SOCIETY THE POET

SEEKS"

Composed 1806?-Published 1815

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets. "-ED.

BROOK! whose society the Poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew ;

And whom the curious Painter doth pursue
Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks,
And tracks thee dancing down thy water-breaks ;
If wish were mine some type of thee to view,1
Thee, and not thee thyself, I would not do
Like Grecian Artists, give thee human cheeks,
Channels for tears; no Naiad should'st thou be,-
Have neither limbs, feet, feathers, joints nor hairs :

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It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee
With purer robes than those of flesh and blood,
And hath bestowed on thee a safer good; 2
Unwearied joy, and life without its cares.

"THERE IS A LITTLE UNPRETENDING RILL"

Composed 1806?-Published 1820

[This Rill trickles down the hill-side into Windermere, near Low-wood. My sister and I, on our first visit together to this part of the country, walked from Kendal, and we rested to refresh ourselves by the side of the lake where the streamlet falls into it. This sonnet was written some years after in recollection of that happy ramble, that most happy day and hour.-I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."-ED.

THERE is a little unpretending Rill

Of limpid water, humbler far than aught 3

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Nor spring enclosed in sculptured stone, nor aught MS.

There is a trickling water, neither rill,

Fountain inclosed, or rivulet, nor aught

MS. 1806.

That ever among Men or Naiads sought
Notice or name !-It quivers down the hill,
Furrowing its shallow way with dubious will;
Yet to my mind this scanty Stream is brought 1
Oftener than Ganges or the Nile; a thought
Of private recollection sweet and still! 2

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Months perish with their moons; year treads on year;

But, faithful Emma! thou with me canst say

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That, while ten thousand pleasures disappear,

And flies their memory fast almost as they,3

The immortal Spirit of one happy day

Lingers beside that Rill, in vision clear.5

1 1820.

It trickles down the hill,

2 1827.

So feebly, just for love of power and will,
Yet to my mind the nameless thing is brought
It totters down the hill,
So feebly, quite forlorn of power and will;
Yet nameless Thing it to my mind is brought

MS.

MS.

Oftener than mightiest Floods, whose path is wrought
Through wastes of sand, and forests dark and chill. 1820.

3 1827.

Do thou, even thou, O faithful Anna! say
Why this small Streamlet is to me so dear;
Thou know'st, that while enjoyments disappear

And sweet remembrances like flowers decay,

1820.

4 1827.

Lingers upon its marge,

1820.

5 1820.

For on that day, now seven years gone, when first
Two glad foot-travellers, through sun and shower
My Love and I came hither, while thanks burst
Out of our hearts

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