^j> * o „ o ' r7- ''4' ^f ,0 A- ' .%r.^'?.,V '^' ■^"^^ "^'i '1: '^v-^^ : 'O-O^ o^ , f .'-I 3S 0^ :%. £" 'fMUWx t i \ > ♦°' ^,^^.;: '^^ * . . ' ^^ O „ , o - J. ^'j li". - ti^^i i'i»r^ -VV »>» " y*'^ ^\/'\:'^ .^\'^.' j"^ y-r. -.'^K' o»°% ^^^^ .^°' - ■fe .<'■ .^^^ ^ • • , T ^'^• <' "^o ' *", ^° -^^^ - -?%iS' ._J A'.A • ^^"^^. %. .s"^"^ ■^, :1 .Ho^ .Vv7^:i,- ■J^:^^ -A ^ -....^ V » * * o* O" 0' .^^• fc jst^-^vjtt-. ^w^*°.^'^'' v^. ■■■-^'^ A^-^. •■^ij;^-.' /« ^^. .> ^^ ■■■V ^'M- APPARELLED IN CELESTIAL LIGHT. ODE INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ^^i^.vr , DOVE COTTAGE, GRASMERE I DEC 17 1884 BOSTON D. LOTIIROP AXD COMPANY FKANKLIX AND HAWLKV STKP:ETS Copyright by I). LOTHROP AND COMPANV Prfss of Bcr7tiick iSy Siittt/i, i/S piinkasr Street. WILLIAM WOUnSWOKTH. [Fkotnr/rapked from the paintlnr/ hy Mr. Henrij Inman (18-44), now in possession of Mrs. Reed, Philadelphia, Pa.] WILLIAJI WORDSWUiail. [Photor/raphed fi-oi7i a portrait on ivory, pininted in 1841 by Miss Marr/aret Gillies, and now in possession oj Mr. William Wordsworth.] AUTHOR'S NOTE. This was composed during my residence at Town-end, (Tras- mere. Two years at least passed between the writing of tlie four first stanzas and tlie remaining part. To the attentive and competent reader tlie whole sufficiently explains itself; but there may be no harm in adverting here to j)articular feelings or ex2yeriences of my own mind on which the structure of the poem partly rests. Nothing was more difficult for me in child- hood than to admit the notion of death as a state applicable to my own being. I h.ave said elsewhere, " A simple child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life m every limb, What should it know of death ! " But it was not so much from feelings of animal vivacity that my difficulty came as from a sense of the indomitable- ness of the spirit within me. I used to brood over the sto- ries of Enoch and Elijah, and almost to ])ersuade myself that, whatever might become of others, I should be translated, in something of the same way, to heaven. With a feeling con- genial to this, I was often unable to think of external things as having external existence, and I communed with all that I saw as sometliing not a))art from, but inherent in, my own immaterial nature. Many times while going to school have I grasped at a wall or tree to recall myself from this abyss of AUTHORS NOTE. idealism to the reality. At tliat time I was afraid of such processes. In later periods of life I have deplored, as we have all reason to do, a subjugation of an opposite character, and have rejoiced over the remembrances, as is expressed in the lines, " Obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things. Fallings from us, vanishings." To that dream-like vividness and splendor which invest ob- jects of sight in childhood, every one, I believe, if he would look back, could bear testimony, and T need not dwell upon it here ; but having in the poem regarded it as i)resumptive evidence of a prior state of existence, I think it right to ))ro- test against a conclusion, which has given pain to some good and pious persons, that I meant to inculcate such a belief. It is far too shadowy a notion to be recommended to faith, as more than an element in our instincts of immortality. But let us bear in mind that, though the idea is not advanced in revelation, there is nothing there to c-oniradict it, and the fall of man presents an analogy ni its favor. Accordingly, a ])re- existent state has entered into the popular creeds of many nations ; and, among all persons acquainted with classic litera- ture, is known as an ingredient in Platonic ])hilosoi>hy. Archi- medes said that he could move the world if he had a point whereon to rest his machine. Who has not felt the same as- pirations as regards the world of his own mind ? Having to wield some of its elements when I was impelled to write this poem on the "Immortality of the Soul," I took hold of the notion of pre-existence as having sufficient foundation in hu- manity for authorizing me to make for my purpose the best vise of it I could as a ])oet. ILLUSTPvATIONS. SUBJECT. AiiiiarL'lled in celestial light. Frontispiece Dove Cottage, Grasmere William Wordsworth. Portrait . . , . William Wordsworth. Portrait .... The Child. Vigintte And while tlie young lambs bound As to the tabor's sound .... And the Babe leaps up on his Jlother's arm Behold the Child amoni;- his new-born blisses, A six years' Darling of a pigmy size Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-liorn freedom on thy being's height The thoughts of our past years in nio doth breed Perpetual l)enediction Ye that pipe and ye that play The .Man. Virj7iette F. CHILUE riASSA:\I. Fko.m an Etching. llENiiY Injian. JiAiiGAKET Gillies. Miss L. B. Hujiphkey. Edmund H. Gahkktt. Miss L. B. Humphrey. Wm. T. Smedley. WiM. St. John Hakper. W. L. Taylor. f. h. lungren. Wm. T. Smedley. The engraving by George L. Cowee and John Schoelch. AcKMOWi.KDmiKNT is (liip tlio WoKDSWORTii SOCIETY (Knf;-laii(I ), tlirous;!) whose c()urt(;s\-, liv its Sccrftarv, I'mfcsscir William Kiii,i;-ht, the tAvo portraits of Words- worth ill this volume are given. They are from a set of live piiotographs from the originals, ]irepareil for the members of the Society. It may not he amiss to cpiote liere, from the Trmi.taclion.f of the Society (No. IV.), what is said of the Inman portrait, which, out of some twenty-seven, Mr. Wordsworth iiimself considered the liest likeness: "The true man, Wordsworth, as lie was, as he livecl and moved among the sons of men .... speaks in the Inman pietiirc. It i> a likeness. It is the man, with the far-off gaze, who wrote the ncji'ius." INTIMATIONS OF IMMOETALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD, The Child is father of the Man; And I eouki wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. T. There was a time when meadow, gi-ove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight. To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. 1 6 INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY It is not now as it hath been of yore; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things wliieh I have seen I now can see no more. II. The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Kose, The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare, Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. AND WHILE THE YOUNG LA.MBS BOUND AS TO THE tabor's SOUND. FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD. 19 III. Now, Avliile the birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young hunbs bound As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong: The cataracts blow their trumpets froui the steep; No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng. The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep. And all the eartli is gay; Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity. And with the heart of IMay Doth every Beast keep holiday; — 20 INTIMATIOXS OF IMMORTALITY Thou Child of Joy, Shout rouud uie, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy ! IV. Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal. The fulness of your bliss, I feel — I feel it all. Oh evil day! if I were sullen "While Enrth herself is adorning, This SAveet May-morning, And the Children are culling On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide. AND THE BABE LEAPS UP oN HIS MOTHER'S ARM. FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD. 23 Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm: — I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! — But there's a Tree, of many, one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something' that is gone; The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat: Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the gloiy and the dream? V. Our birth is but a slee]) and a forgetting: The soul that rises with us, our life's Star Hath had elsewhere its setting, And eometh from afar: IS'ot in entire forget fulness, And not in utter nakedness. 24 INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY But trailing clouds of glory do ayc come From God, who is our home; Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing Boy, But he beholds the light, and whence it flows He sees it in his joy; The Youth, who daily farther from the east Must travel, still is IN^ature's Priest, And by the vision sj^lendid Is on his way attended; At length the Man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day. VI. Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind. BEHOLD THE CHILD AMONG HIS NEVV-IiORN LLibSES, A SIX years' darling of a piGxMY size ! FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD. 27 And even with something of a Mother's mind, And no unworth}^ aim, The homely Nurse doth all she can To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came. VII. Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years' Darling of a pigmy size! See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies, Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses, With light upon him from his father's eyes! See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, Some fragment from his dream of human life. Shaped by himself with newly-learned art: 28 INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral, And this hath now his heart, And unto this he fi-ames his song, Then will he fit his tongue To dialogues of business, love, or strife; But it will not be long Ere this be thrown aside, And with new joy and pride The little Actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his " humorous stage " With all the Persons, down to palsied Age, That Life brings with her in her equipage. As if his whole vocation Were endless imitation. THOU Lini.K CHILD, VET GLORIOUS IN THL MlGKi' OF HEAVEN-BORN FREEDOM ON THY BEINO'S HEIGHT. FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD 31 VITI. Thou, whose exterior semblance doth behe Thy Soul's immensity; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind. That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted forever by the eternal mind, — Mighty prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave; Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave, A Presence which is not to be put by; Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, 32 INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring* tlie inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life! IX. O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live. That JN'ature yet i-emembers AVhat was so fugitive! The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction: not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest; Delight and liberty, the sim]ile creed Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hopes still fluttering in his breast: \.ST YEARS IN ME DUTH BREED PERPETUAL BENEDICTION .... FRO.\r RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD. 35 [N'ot for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Falhngs from us, vanishings; Bhmk nhsgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized, Hiuii instincts beibre whieh our mortal Xature Did treml)le like a guilty thing surprised: But for those tirst atfections, ■Those shadowy reeolleetions, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence: truths that Avake, To perish never; 36 INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY Which iieithei- listlessne.ss, nor mad eiuluavor, Xor Man nor Boy, Xor all that i.s at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy! Hence in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be. Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which Ijrought us hither. Can in a moment travel thither. And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore. X. Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song! And let the ^^oung lambs bound As to the tabor's sound! We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that ])lay, YK THAT PIPE AND YE THAT PLAY. FROM RECOLLECTIOXS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD. 39 Ye that througli your hearts to-day Feel the gladness of the May! What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now forever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death In years that bring the philosophic mind. XI. And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Forbode not any severing of our loves! 40 INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY. Yet ill iny heart of hearts I feel your might; I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks whieh down their ehannels fret, Even more than when I trippetl lightly as they; The innocent brightness ol* a iiew-l)orii Day Is lovely yet; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a solier coloring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er iiiaifs mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by Avliich we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears. To me the meanest liower that blows can give Thoughts that do olteii lie too deep for tears. NOTES. [From the edition of Word^vorth's I'oeti.al Works (Kdinburo-l,, 1883), edited by William Kniglit, LL.D., Secretary of tl>e Word.wortl, Soeiety (England), and I'rofessor of Moral Pliilosopiiy, St. Andrews, Seotland.] The edition of 18U7 concluded with this poem, which Words- worth simply named Ode, prefixing to it the motto, "Paulo majora canamus." In 1815, when lie revised the poem through- out, he named it, in the characteristic manner of many of his titles — diffuse and yet precise— 0(^c'. Intimations of Immor- tality from Eecollections of Earhj Childhood; and he then prefixed to it the lines of his own earlier ])oem on the Rain- bow (March, 1802) : The cliild is Father of the Man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. This longer title and motto it retained in all the subsequent editions. The Ode on Immortality was written at intervals, between the years 1803 and 1806; and it was subjected to frequent and careful revision. No poem of Wordsworth's bears more evident traces in its structure at once of inspiration and elaboration; of original flight of thought and afflatus on the one hand, and on the other of careful sculpture and fastidious choice of phrase. But it is remarkable that there are very few chanoes of text in the successive editions. Most of the 44 NOTES. alterations were made before 1815, and the omission of some feeble lines which origuially stood in stanza viii., in the editions of 1807 and 1815, was a great advantage in disen- cumbering the })oem. Tlie main revitsiun and elaboration of tills Ode, however — an elaboration which suggests the passage of the glacier ice over tlie rocks of White Moss Common, whei-e the poem was murmured out stanza by stanza — was all fin- ished before it first saw the light in 1807. In form it is ir- regular and original. And ])erha]is the most renuirkablo thing in its structure is the frequent change of the keynote, and the skill and delicacy with which the transitions are made. "Tlie feet throughout are iambic. The lines vary in length from the Alexandrine to the line with two accents. There is a constant ebb and flow in the full tide of song, but scarce two waves are alike," (Hawcs Turner, 8electio)is from. Wordsviorth.^ In the "notes" to the Selections just referred to, there is an excellent commentary on this Ode on Immortality, almost every line of Avhich is worthy of minute analysis and study. Several of the following are suggested by Mr. Turner. (1.) TJie v'indfi come to me, from the fields of sleep. The morning breeze blowing froni the fields that were dark during the hours of sleep. (2.) £ut there'' s « tree, of rncinij, one. Compare Browning's May and Death : Only one little sight, one plant Woods have in May, ttc. (3.) The 2)('>isy at my feet Doth the same tcde repeat. NOTES. 45 French " Peiisee." "Paiisies, that's for tlioughts." Ophelia in Ilandet. (4.) Our birth is hut a sleep and a forr/ettiiKj., This thought Wordsworth owed, consciously or unconsciously, to Plato. Though he tells us in the Fenwick note that he did not mean to inculcate the belief, there is no doubt that he clung to the notion of a life pre-existing the })resent, on grounds similar to those on which he believed in a life to come. But thei-e are some differences in the way in which the idea commended itself to Plato and to Wordsworth. The stress was laid by Wordsworth on the effect of terrestrial life in putting the higher faculties to sleep, and making us " for- get the glories we have known," Plato, on the other hand, looked upon the mingled experiences of mundane life as induc- ing a gradual but slow remembrance of the past. Compare Tennyson's Tv:o J^oices, and Wordsworth's sonnet : "Man's life is like a sparrow, mighty king." (5.) F'illinr/ from time to time his ^'humorous stage'''' With all the persons., i. e. with the dramatis personce. (6.) Tliou eye among the blind., That., deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep., There is an admirable parallel illustration of Wordsworth's use of this figure (describing one sense in terms of another), in the lines in Aira Force Valley : " A soft eye-music of slow waving boughs." (7.) Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight. Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life! 46 NOTES. Compare witli this the lines in the fourth book of Tlie E.f- cursio)i, beginning- : Alas ! the endowment of immortal Pain Is matched unequally with custom, time, (8.) F'alliiKjs from lis, vanishiiu/s, The outward sensible universe, visible and tangible, seeming to fall away from us, as unreal, to vanish in unsubstantiality. See the explanation of this youthful experience in the Fen- wick note. That confession of his boyish days at Hawkshead, "many times, while going to school, have I grasped at a wall or tree, to recall myself from this abyss of idealism to the reality" (by which he exj)lains those fallings from us, vanishings, ttc), suggests a similar experience and confession of Cardinal New- man's in his Ajyologia (See p. 07). The Hev. Robert Perceval Graves, late of Windermere, now of Dublin, wrote thus in 1850: "I remember Mr. Words- worth saying that, at a ])articular stage of his mental progress, he used to be frequently so ra])t into an um-eal transcenden- tal world of ideas that the external world seemed no longer to exist in relation to him, and he had to reconvince him- self of its existence by clasping a tree, or something that happened to be near him. I could not help connecting this fact with that obscure ])assage in his great Ode on the ' In- timations of Immortality,' in Avhich he speaks of Those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings. " Professor Bonamy Price farther confirms the explanation XI^7 NOTES. 47 which Wordsworth gave of the jjassage, in an account of a conversation he had witli tlie \)ovX. It was an exi)eri- ence, however, not, I think, as Mr. Price imagines, peculiar to Wordsworth — and its vakie would be much lessened if it were so — hut one to which (as the j)oet said to Miss Fen- wick) " every one, if he would look back, could bear testi- mony." "OxFOPa), April 21, 1881. " My Dear 8ik, — You will be glad, I am sure, to receive an interpretation, which chance enabled me to obtain from Wordsworth himself, of a passage in the immortal Ode to Im- mortality. . . "It liappened one day that the poet, my wife, and I were taking a walk together by the side of Rydal Water. We Avcre then by tlie sycamores under Nab Scar. The aged poet was in a most genial mood, and it suddenly occurred to me that I might, without unwarrantable presumption, seize the golden opportunity thus offered, and ask him to explain these mys- terious words. So I addressed him with an apology, and begged him to explain, what my own feeble mother-wit was unable to unravel, and for Avhich I had in vain sought the assistance of others, what were those " fallings from us, van- ishings," for whicli, above all other things, lie gave God thanks. The venerable old man raised his aged form erect ; he was walking in the middle, and passed across me to a five- barred gate in the wall which bounded the road on the side of the lake. He clenclied the toj) bar finidy witli his right liand, pushed strongly against it, and then uttered these ever- memorable words: 'There was a time in my life when I had to push against something that resisted, to be sure that there Avas anything outside of me. I Avas sure of my own mind ; 48 NOTES. everything else fell away, and vanished into thought.' Thought, he was sure of; matter, for liini, at the moment, was an un- reality — nothing but a thought. Such natural spontaneous idealism Ijas jirobahly never been felt by any other man. lioNAirY Price." Professor Knhjht. The following is from S. T. Coleridge's liliK/rdp/iln IMer- aria (eh. xxii., \k 'I'li), ed. 1817). "To the 'Ode on the Intimations of Immoi-tality from Uee- ollections of Early Childhood,' the ])oet might h;ive prefixed the lines whieli Dante addresses to one of his own Canzoni : 'Canzone, i' credo, die sarauuo ra
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