that this is the explanation of the date given in the editions of 1815 and 1820,
viz. 1802. Passages occur in Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal to the following effect: "Monday Morning, 1st September.--We walked in the wood by the lake. William read 'Joanna' and 'the Firgrove' to Coleridge." A little earlier there is the record, "Saturday, 22nd August.--William was composing all the morning.... William read us the poem of 'Joanna' beside the Rothay by the roadside." Then, on Friday, the 25th August, there is the entry, 144 "We walked over the hill by the Firgrove, I sate upon a rock and observed a flight of swallows gathering together high above my head. We walked through the wood to the stepping stones, the lake of Rydale very beautiful, partly still, I left William to compose an inscription, that about the path...." Then, next day, "Saturday morning, 30th August.--William finished his inscription of the Pathway, then walked in the wood, and when John returned he sought him, and they bathed together." To what poem Dorothy Wordsworth referred under the name of the "Inscription of the Pathway" has puzzled me much. There is no poem amongst his "Inscriptions" (written in or before August 1800) that corresponds to it in the least. But, if my conjecture is right that this "Poem on the Naming of Places," beginning: 'When, to the attractions of the busy world,' was composed at two different times, it is quite possible that "the Firgrove" which was read--along with 'Joanna'--to Coleridge on September 1st, 1800, was the first part of this very poem. If this supposition is correct, some light is cast both on the "Inscription of the Pathway." and on the date assigned by Wordsworth himself to the poem. There is a certain fitness, however, in this poem being placed--as it now is--in sequence to the 'Elegiac Verses' in 145 memory of John Wordsworth, beginning, "The Sheep-boy whistled loud," and near the fourth poem 'To the Daisy', beginning, "Sweet Flower! belike one day to have." The "Firgrove" still exists. It is between Wishing Gate and White Moss Common, and almost exactly opposite the former. Standing at the gate and looking eastwards, the grove is to the left, not forty yards distant. Some of the firs (Scotch ones) still survive, and several beech trees, not "a single beech-tree," as in the poem. From this, one might infer that the present colony had sprung up since the beginning of the century, and that the special tree, in which was the thrush's nest, had perished; but Dr. Cradock wrote to me that "Wordsworth pointed out the tree to Miss Cookson a few days before Dora Wordsworth's death. The tree is near the upper wall and tells its own tale." The Firgrove--"John's Grove"--can easily be entered by a gate about a hundred yards beyond the Wishing-gate, as one goes toward Rydal. The view from it, the "visionary scene," 'the spectacle Of clouded splendour, ... this dream-like sight Of solemn loveliness,' is now much interfered with by the new larch plantations immediately below the firs. It must have been very different in Wordsworth's time, and is constantly referred to in his sister's Journal as a favourite retreat, resorted to 'when cloudless suns Shone hot, or wind blew troublesome and strong.' 146 In the absence of contrary testimony, it might be supposed that "the track" which the brother had "worn," 'By pacing here, unwearied and alone,' faced Silver-How and the Grasmere Island, and that the single beech tree was nearer the lower than the upper wall. But Miss Cookson's testimony is explicit. Only a few fir trees survive at this part of the grove, which is now open and desolate, not as it was in those earlier days, when 'the trees Had been so thickly planted, and had thriven With such perplexed and intricate array, That vainly did I seek, beneath their stems A length of open space ...' Dr. Cradock remarks, "As to there being more than one beech, Wordsworth would not have hesitated to sacrifice servile exactness to poetical effect." He had a fancy for "one"-- 'Fair as a star when only one Is shining in the sky;' "'One' abode, no more;" Grasmere's "one green island;" "one green field." 147 Since the above note was printed, new light has been cast on the "Inscription of the Pathway," for which see volume viii. of this edition.--Ed. * THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT BY MY SISTER Composed 1805.--Published 1815 [Suggested to her, while beside my sleeping children.--I. F.] One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."--Ed. 148 The days are cold, the nights are long, The north-wind sings a doleful song; Then hush again upon my breast; All merry things are now at rest, Save thee, my pretty Love! 5 The kitten sleeps upon the hearth, The crickets long have ceased their mirth; There's nothing stirring in the house Save one
wee, hungry, nibbling mouse, Then why so busy thou? 10 Nay! start not at that sparkling light; 'Tis but the moon that shines so bright On the window pane bedropped with rain: Then, little Darling! sleep again, And wake when it is day. 15 This poem underwent no change in successive editions. The title in all the earlier ones (1815 to 1843) was 'The Cottager to her Infant. By a Female Friend'; and in the preface to the edition of 1815, Wordsworth wrote, "Three short pieces (now first published) are the work of a Female Friend; ... if any one regard them with dislike, or be disposed to condemn them, let the censure fall upon him, who, trusting in his own 149 sense of their merit, and their fitness for the place which they occupy,
extorted them from the Authoress." In the edition of 1845, he disclosed the authorship; and gave the more natural title, 'By my Sister'. Other two poems by her were introduced into the edition of 1815, and subsequent ones,
viz. the 'Address to a Child', and 'The Mother's Return'. In an appendix to a MS. copy of the 'Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland', by Dorothy Wordsworth, transcribed by Mrs. Clarkson, I find the poem 'The Cottager to her Infant' with two additional stanzas, which are there attributed to Wordsworth. The appendix runs thus: "To my Niece Dorothy, a sleepless Baby THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT (The third and fourth stanzas which follow by W. W.) 'Ah! if I were a lady gay I should not grieve with thee to play; Right gladly would I lie awake Thy lively spirits to partake, And ask no better cheer. But, Babe! there's none to work for me. And I must rise to industry; Soon as the cock begins to crow Thy mother to the fold must go To tend the sheep and kine.'" 150 Ed. * THE WAGGONER [A] Composed 1805.--Published 1819 [Written at Town-end, Grasmere. The characters and story from fact.--I. F.] "In Cairo's crowded streets The impatient Merchant, wondering, waits in vain, And Mecca saddens at the long delay." THOMSON. [B] 151 TO CHARLES LAMB, ESQ. MY DEAR FRIEND, When I sent you, a few weeks ago, the Tale of 'Peter Bell', you asked "why THE WAGGONER was not added?"--To say the truth,--from the higher tone of imagination, and the deeper touches of passion aimed at in the former, I apprehended, this little Piece could not accompany it without disadvantage. In the year 1806, if I am not mistaken, THE WAGGONER was read to you in manuscript; and, as you have remembered it for so long a time, I am the more encouraged to hope, that, since the localities on which it partly depends did not prevent its being interesting to you, it may prove acceptable to others. Being therefore in some measure the cause of its present appearance, you must allow me the gratification of inscribing it to you; in acknowledgment of the pleasure I have derived from your Writings, and of the high esteem with which I am Very truly yours, WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. RYDAL MOUNT,
May 20th, 1819. CANTO FIRST 152 'Tis spent--this burning day of June! Soft darkness o'er its latest gleams is stealing; The buzzing dor-hawk, round and round, is wheeling,-- That solitary bird Is all that can be heard [1] 5 In silence deeper far than that of deepest noon! Confiding Glowworms, 'tis a night Propitious to your earth-born light! But, where the scattered stars are seen In hazy straits the clouds between, 10 Each, in his station twinkling not, Seems changed into a pallid spot. [2] The mountains against heaven's grave weight Rise up, and grow to wondrous height. [3] The air, as in a lion's den, 15 Is close and hot;--and now and then Comes a tired [4] and sultry breeze With a haunting and a panting, Like the stifling of disease; But the dews [5] allay the heat, 20 And the silence makes it sweet. Hush, there is some one on the stir! 'Tis Benjamin the Waggoner; Who long hath trod this toilsome way, Companion of the night and [6] day. 25 That far-off tinkling's drowsy cheer, 153 Mix'd with a faint yet grating sound In a moment lost and found, The Wain announces--by whose side Along the banks of Rydal Mere 30 He paces on, a trusty Guide,-- Listen! you can scarcely hear! Hither he his course is bending;-- Now he leaves the lower ground, And up the craggy hill ascending 35 Many a stop and stay he makes, Many a breathing-fit he takes;--[7] Steep the way and wearisome, Yet all the while his whip is dumb! The Horses have worked with right good-will, 40 And so [8] have gained the top of the hill; He was patient, they were strong, And now they smoothly glide along, Recovering [9] breath, and pleased to win The praises of mild Benjamin. 45 Heaven shield him from mishap and snare! But why so early with this prayer? Is it for threatenings in the sky? Or for some other danger nigh? No; none is near him yet, though he 50 Be one of much infirmity; [10] For at the bottom of the brow, Where once the DOVE and OLIVE-BOUGH Offered a greeting of good ale 154 To all who entered Grasmere Vale; 55 And called on him who must depart To leave it with a jovial heart; There, where the DOVE and
