Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

means to be omitted, and therefore, though unwilling to lengthen the Epitaph, I added the two following

Labours of his own,

Whether he traced historic truth with zeal
For the State's guidance, or the Church's weal,
Or Fancy, disciplined by studious Art,
Informed his pen, or wisdom of the heart,

Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot's mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind."

I do not feel with you in respect to the word "so;" it refers, of course, to the preceding line, and as the reference is to fireside feelings and intimate friends, there appears to me a propriety in an expression inclining to the colloquial. The couplet was the dictate of my own feelings, and the construction is accordingly broken and rather dramatic,—but too much of this. If you have any objection to the couplet as altered, be so kind as let me know; if not, on no account trouble yourself to answer this letter.

Prematurely I object to as you do. I used the word with reference to that decay of faculties which is not uncommon in advanced life, and which often leads to dotage,-but the word must not be retained.

We regret much to hear that Lady Coleridge is unwell, pray present to her our best wishes.

What could induce the Bishop of London to forbid the choral service at St Marks? It was in execution, I understand, above all praise. Ever most faithfully yours,

W. WORDSWORTH.

December 2d, '43.

MY DEAR MR JUSTICE COLERIDGE,

The first line would certainly have more spirit by reading "your" as you suggest. I had previously considered that; but decided in favour of "the," as "your," I thought, would clog the sentence in sound, there being "ye" thrice repeated, and followed by "you" at the close of the 4th line. I also thought that "your" would interfere with the application of "you" at the end of the fourth line, to the whole of the particular previous images as I intended it to do. But I don't trouble you with this Letter on that account, but merely to ask you whether the couplet now standing :"Large were his aims, yet in no human breast Could private feelings find a holier nest."

would not be better thus

"Could private feelings meet in holier rest."

This alteration does not quite satisfy me, but I can do no better. The word "nest" both in itself and in conjunction with "holier" seems to

me somewhat bold and rather startling for marble, particularly in a Church. I should not have thought of any alteration in a merely printed poem, but this makes a difference. If you think the proposed alteration better, don't trouble yourself to answer this; if not, pray be so kind as to tell me so by a single line. I would not on any account have trespassed on your time but for this public occasion. We are sorry to hear of Lady Coleridge's indisposition; pray present to her our kind regards and best wishes for her recovery, united with the greetings of the season both for her and yourself, and believe me faithfully,

Your obliged,

RYDAL MOUNT, December 23rd, '43.

WM. WORDSWORTH.

TO THE MEMORY OF ROBERT SOUTHEY, A MAN EMINENT FOR GENIUS,
VERSATILE TALENTS, EXTENSIVE AND ACCURATE KNOWLEDGE, AND
HABITS OF THE MOST CONSCIENTIOUS INDUSTRY. NOR WAS HE LESS
DISTINGUISHED FOR STRICT TEMPERANCE, PURE BENEVOLENCE, AND
WARM AFFECTIONS; BUT HIS MIND, SUCH ARE THE AWFUL DISPENSA-
TIONS OF PROVIDENCE, WAS PREMATURELY AND ALMOST TOTALLY

OBSCURED BY A SLOWLY-WORKING AND INSCRUTABLE MALADY UNDER
WHICH HE LANGUISHED UNTIL RELEASED BY DEATH IN THE 68TH
YEAR OF HIS AGE.

READER PONDER THE CONDITION TO WHICH THIS GREAT AND
GOOD MAN, NOT WITHOUT MERCIFUL ALLEVIATIONS, WAS DOOMED,

AND LEARN FROM HIS EXAMPLE TO MAKE TIMELY USE OF THY
ENDOWMENTS AND OPPORTUNITIES, AND TO WALK HUMBLY WITH THY
GOD.

COPY OF THE PRINTED INSCRIPTION.

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF ROBERT SOUTHEY, WHOSE MORTAL REMAINS
ARE INTERRED IN THE ADJOINING CHURCHYARD. HE WAS BORN AT
BRISTOL, OCTOBER 4TH, 1774, AND DIED AFTER A RESIDENCE OF
NEARLY 40 YEARS AT GRETA HALL, IN THIS PARISH, MARCH 21st,
1843.

YE torrents, foaming down the rocky steeps,
Ye lakes, wherein the spirit of water sleeps,
Ye vales and hills, whose beauty hither drew
The Poet's steps and fixed him here, on you

His eyes have closed! and ye, loved books, no more

Shall Southey feed upon your precious lore,

To works that ne'er shall forfeit their renown

Adding immortal labours of his own—

[blocks in formation]

Whether he traced historic truth, with zeal
For the State's guidance or the Church's weal,
Or Fancy, disciplined by studious art,
Informed his pen, or wisdom of the heart,
Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot's mind
By reverence for the rights of all mankind.
Wide were his aims, yet in no human breast
Could private feelings find a holier nest.

His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud
From Skiddaw's top; but he to Heaven was vowed
Through a long life, and calmed by Christian faith,
In his pure soul, the fear of change and death.
This Memorial was erected by friends of Robert Southey.-ED.

TO THE REV. CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D. MASTER OF HARROW SCHOOL.*

After the perusal of his Theophilus Anglicanus, recently published.

[blocks in formation]

ENLIGHTENED Teacher, gladly from thy hand
Have I received this proof of pains bestowed
By Thee to guide thy Pupils on the road
That, in our native isle, and every land,
The Church, when trusting in divine command
And in her Catholic attributes, hath trod:

O may these lessons be with profit scanned

To thy heart's wish, thy labour blest by God!

So the bright faces of the young and gay
Shall look more bright-the happy, happier still;
Catch, in the pauses of their keenest play,
Motions of thought which elevate the will
And, like the Spire that from your classic Hill
Points heavenward, indicate the end and way.

RYDAL MOUNT, Dec. 11, 1843.

* The poet's nephew, afterwards canon of Westminster, and bishop of Lincoln, and the biographer of his uncle.-ED.

[blocks in formation]

Is then no nook of English ground secure

From rash assault? * Schemes of retirement sown

In youth, and 'mid the busy world kept pure

As when their earliest flowers of hope were blown,
Must perish ;-how can they this blight endure ?
And must he too the ruthless change bemoan
Who scorns a false utilitarian lure

'Mid his paternal fields at random thrown?
Baffle the threat, bright Scene, from Orrest-head †
Given to the pausing traveller's rapturous glance:
Plead for thy peace, thou beautiful romance
Of nature; and, if human hearts be dead,

Speak, passing winds; ye torrents, with your strong
And constant voice, protest against the wrong.

October 12th, 1844.

* The degree and kind of attachment which many of the yeomanry feel to their small inheritances can scarcely be over-rated. Near the house of one of them stands a magnificent tree, which a neighbour of the owner advised him to fell for profit's sake. “Fell it!" exclaimed the yeoman, “I had rather fall on my knees and worship it." It happens, I believe, that the intended railway would pass through this little property, and I hope that an apology for the answer will not be thought necessary by one who enters into the strength of the feeling.-W. W., 1845.

Compare the two letters on the Kendal and Windermere Railway, contributed by Wordsworth to The Morning Post, and republished in this volume.-ED.

+ Orresthead is the height close to Windermere, to the north of the town.-ED.

[blocks in formation]

PROUD were ye, Mountains, when, in times of old,
Your patriot sons, to stem invasive war,

Intrenched your brows; ye gloried in each scar:
Now, for your shame, a Power, the Thirst of Gold,
That rules o'er Britain like a baneful star,
Wills that your peace, your beauty, shall be sold,
And clear way made for her triumphal car
Through the beloved retreats your arms enfold!
Heard YE that Whistle? As her long-linked Train
Swept onwards, did the vision cross your view?
Yes, ye were startled;—and, in balance true,
Weighing the mischief with the promised gain,
Mountains, and Vales, and Floods, I call on you
To share the passion of a just disdain.

The following sonnet by Mr Rawnsley-suggested by a recent attempt to introduce a mineral railway into Borrowdale-may be read in connection with Wordsworth's sonnets.-ED.

A CRY FROM DERWENTWATER.

Shall then the stream of ruinous Lodore

Not fill the valley with its changeful sound
Unchallenged! shall grey Derwent's sacred bound
Hear the harsh brawl and intermittent roar

Of mocking waves upon an iron shore,

Whereby nor health nor happiness is found!

While steam-wains drag from Honister's heart wound
The long cooled ashes of its fiery core !

Burst forth ye sulphurous fountains, as ye broke
On Skiddaw, lick the waters, blast the trees,
And let men have the earth they would desire,—
As well go pass our children through the fire
With shrieks, Cath-Belus, round thine altar's smoke,
As let old Derwent hear such sounds as these.
H. D. RAWNSLEY.

WRAY VICARAGE, AMBLESIDE.

[ocr errors]
« AnteriorContinuar »