smiles have there been seen; Tranquil assurances that Heaven supports The feeble motions of thy life, and cheers 70 Thy loneliness: or shall those smiles be called Feelers of love, put forth as if to explore This untried world, and to prepare thy way Through a strait passage intricate and dim? Such are they; and the same are tokens, signs, 75 Which, when the appointed season hath arrived, Joy, as her holiest language, shall adopt; And Reason's godlike Power be proud to own. 34 * FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT [Footnote A: The title from 1815 to 1845 was 'Address to my Infant Daughter, on being reminded that she was a Month old, on that Day'. After her death in 1847, her name was added to the title.--Ed.] [Footnote B: See Dryden's poem, 'To the pious memory of the accomplished young lady, Mrs. Anne Killigrew', I. l. 15.--Ed.] The text of this poem was never altered.--Ed. * THE KITTEN AND FALLING LEAVES [A] 35 Composed 1804.--Published 1807 [Seen at Town-end, Grasmere. The elder-bush has long since disappeared; it hung over the wall near the cottage: and the kitten continued to leap up, catching the leaves as here described. The Infant was Dora.--J. F.] One of the "Poems of the Fancy." In Henry Crabb Robinson's 'Diary, etc.', under date Sept. 10, 1816, we find, "He" (Wordsworth) "quoted from 'The Kitten and the Falling Leaves' to show he had connected even the kitten with the great, awful, and mysterious powers of Nature." Ed. That way look, my Infant, [1] lo! What a pretty baby-show! See the Kitten on the wall, Sporting with the leaves that fall, Withered leaves--one--two--and three--5 From the lofty elder-tree! Through the calm and frosty [2] air Of this morning bright and fair, Eddying round and round they sink Softly, slowly: one might think, 10 36 From the motions that are made, Every little leaf conveyed Sylph or Faery hither tending,-- To this lower world descending, Each invisible and mute, 15 In his wavering parachute. ----But the Kitten, how she starts, Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts! [3] First at one, and then its fellow Just as light and just as yellow; 20 There are many now--now one-- Now they stop and there are none: What intenseness of desire In her upward eye of fire! With a tiger-leap half-way 25 Now she meets the coming prey, Lets it go as fast, and then Has it in her power again: Now she works with three or four, Like an Indian conjurer; 30 Quick as he in feats of art, Far beyond in joy of heart. Were her antics played in the eye Of a thousand standers-by, Clapping hands with shout and stare, 35 What would little Tabby care For the plaudits of the crowd? Over happy to be proud, Over wealthy in the treasure 37 Of her own exceeding pleasure! 40 'Tis a pretty baby-treat; Nor, I deem, for me unmeet; [4] Here, for neither Babe nor [5] me, Other playmate can I see. Of the countless living things, 45 That with stir of feet and wings (In the sun or under shade, Upon bough or grassy blade) And with busy revellings, Chirp and song, and murmurings, 50 Made this orchard's narrow space, And this vale so blithe a place; Multitudes are swept away Never more to breathe the day: Some are sleeping; some in bands 55 Travelled into distant lands; Others slunk to moor and wood, Far from human neighbourhood; And, among the Kinds that keep With us closer fellowship, 60 With us openly abide, All have laid their mirth aside. Where is he that giddy [6] Sprite, Blue-cap, with his colours bright, Who was blest as bird could be, 65 Feeding in the apple-tree; 38 Made such wanton spoil and rout, Turning blossoms inside out; Hung--head pointing towards the ground--[7] Fluttered, perched, into a round 70 Bound himself, and then unbound; Lithest, gaudiest Harlequin! Prettiest tumbler ever seen! Light of heart and light of limb; What is now become of Him? 75 Lambs, that through the mountains went Frisking, bleating merriment, When the year was in its prime, They are sobered by this time. If you look to vale or [8] hill, 80 If you listen, all is still, Save a little neighbouring rill, That from out the rocky ground Strikes a solitary sound. Vainly glitter [9] hill and plain, 85 And the air is calm in vain; Vainly Morning spreads the lure Of a sky serene and pure; Creature none can she decoy Into open sign of joy: 90 Is it that they have a fear Of the dreary season near? Or that other pleasures be Sweeter even than gaiety? 39 Yet, whate'er enjoyments dwell 95 In the impenetrable cell Of the silent heart which Nature Furnishes to every creature; Whatsoe'er we feel and know Too sedate for outward show, 100 Such a light of gladness breaks, Pretty Kitten! from thy freaks,-- Spreads with such a living grace O'er my little Dora's [10] face; Yes, the sight so stirs and charms 105 Thee, Baby, laughing in my arms, That almost I could repine That your transports are not mine, That I do not wholly fare Even as ye do, thoughtless pair! [11] 110 And I will have my careless season Spite of melancholy reason, [12] Will walk through life in such a way That, when time brings on decay, Now and then I may possess 115 Hours of perfect gladsomeness. [13] --Pleased by any random toy; By a kitten's busy joy, Or an infant's laughing eye Sharing in the ecstasy; 120 I would fare like that or this, Find my wisdom in my bliss; Keep the sprightly soul awake, 40 And have faculties to take, Even from things [14] by sorrow wrought, 125 Matter for a jocund thought, Spite of care, and spite of grief, To gambol with Life's falling Leaf. * VARIANTS ON THE TEXT [Variant 1: ... Darling, ... MS.] [Variant 2: ... silent ... MS.] [Variant 3: Knows not what she would be at, Now on this side, now on that. MS.] 41 [Variant 4: One for me, too, as is meet. MS.] [Variant 5: 1815. ... or ... 1807.] [Variant 6: ... busy ... MS.] [Variant 7: 1836, Hung with head towards the ground, 1807.] [Variant 8: ... and ... MS.] 42 [Variant 9: 1836. ... glitters ... 1807.] [Variant 10: 1849. Laura's [a] 1807] [Variant 11: Additional lines: But I'll take a hint from you, And to pleasure will be true, MS.] [Variant 12: Be it songs of endless Spring Which the frolic Muses sing, Jest, and Mirth's unruly brood Dancing to the Phrygian mood; Be it love, or be it wine, Myrtle wreath, or ivy twine, Or a garland made of both; 43 Whether then Philosophy That would fill us full of glee Seeing that our breath we draw Under an unbending law, That our years are halting never; Quickly gone, and gone for ever, And would teach us thence to brave The conclusion in the grave; Whether it be these that give Strength and spirit so to live, Or the conquest best be made, By a sober course and staid, I would walk in such a way, MS.] [Variant 13: ... joyousness. MS.] [Variant 14: From the things by ... MS.] * 44 FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT [Footnote A: In the editions of 1807-1832 the title was 'The Kitten and the Falling Leaves'.--Ed.] * SUB-FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT [Sub-Footnote a: Dora Wordsworth died in July 1847. Probably the change of text in 1849--one of the latest which the poet made--was due to the wish to connect this poem with memories of his dead daughter's childhood, and her "laughing eye."--Ed.] * THE SMALL CELANDINE [A] 45 Composed 1804.--Published 1807 [Grasmere, Town-end. It is remarkable that this flower coming out so early in the spring as it does, and so bright and beautiful, and in such profusion, should not have been noticed earlier in English verse. What adds much to the interest that attends it, is its habit of shutting itself up and opening out according to the degree of light and temperature of the air.--I. F.] In pencil on opposite page "Has not Chaucer noticed it?"--W. W. This was classed by Wordsworth among his "Poems referring to the Period of Old Age."-Ed. There is a Flower, the lesser Celandine, That shrinks, like many more, from cold and rain; And, the first moment that the sun may shine, Bright as the sun himself, [1] 'tis out again! When hailstones have been falling, swarm on swarm, 5 Or blasts the green field and the trees distrest, Oft have I seen it muffled up from harm, In close self-shelter, like a Thing at rest. 46 But lately, one rough day, this Flower I passed And recognised it, though an altered form, 10 Now standing forth an offering to the blast, And buffeted at will by rain and storm. I stopped, and said with inly-muttered voice, "It doth not love the shower, nor seek the cold: This neither is its courage nor its choice, 15 But its necessity in being old. "The sunshine may not cheer [2] it, nor the dew; It cannot help itself in its decay; Stiff in its members, withered, changed of hue." And, in my spleen, I smiled that it was grey. 20 To be a Prodigal's Favourite--then, worse truth, A Miser's Pensioner--behold our lot! O Man, that from thy fair and shining youth Age might but take the things Youth needed not! * VARIANTS ON THE TEXT [Variant 1: 47 1837. ... itself, ... 1807.] [Variant 2: 1827 ... bless ... 1807.] * FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT [Footnote A: Common Pilewort.--W. W. 1807.] With the last stanza compare one from 'The Fountain', vol. ii. p. 93: 'Thus fares it still in our decay: And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what age takes away Than what it leaves behind.' 48 Compare also the other two poems on the Celandine, vol. ii. pp. 300, 303, written in a previous year.--Ed. * AT APPLETHWAITE, NEAR KESWICK 1804 Composed 1804.--Published 1842 [This was presented to me by Sir George Beaumont, with a view to the erection of a house upon it, for the sake of being near to Coleridge, then living, and likely to remain, at Greta Hall, near Keswick. The severe necessities that prevented this arose from his domestic situation. This little property, with a considerable addition that still leaves it very small, lies beautifully upon the banks of a rill that gurgles down the side of Skiddaw;
