_Sunday, 18th._--Again a mild grey morning, with rising vapours. We sate in the orchard. William wrote the poem on _The Robin and the Butterfly_.[57] ... William met me at Rydale ... with the conclusion of the poem of the Robin. I read it to him in bed. We left out some lines. [Footnote 57: See vol. ii. p. 295.--ED.] * * * * * * _Tuesday, 20th._--A beautiful morning. The sun shone. William wrote a conclusion to the poem of the Butterfly:-- I've watched you now a full half-hour.[58] [Footnote 58: Published as a separate poem.--ED.] I was quite out of spirits, and went into the orchard. When I came in, he had finished the poem. It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun shone upon the level fields, and they grew greener beneath the eye. Houses, village, all cheerful--people at work. We sate in the orchard and repeated _The Glow-worm_ and other poems. Just when William came to a well or trough, which there is in Lord Darlington's park, he began to write that poem of _The Glow-worm_; ... interrupted in going through the town of Staindrop, finished it about 2 miles and a half beyond Staindrop. He did not feel the jogging of the horse while he was writing; but, when he had done, he felt the effect of it, and his fingers were cold with his gloves. His horse fell with him on the other side of St. Helens, Auckland. So much for _The Glow-worm_. It was written coming from Middleham on Monday, 12th April 1802.... On Tuesday 20th, when we were sitting after tea, Coleridge came to the door. I startled him with my voice. C. came up fatigued, but I afterwards found he looked well. William was not well, and I was in low spirits. _Wednesday, 21st._--William and I sauntered a little in the garden. Coleridge came to us, and repeated the verses he wrote to Sara. I was affected with them, and in miserable spirits.[59] The sunshine, the green fields, and the fair sky made me sadder; even the little happy, sporting lambs seemed but sorrowful to me. The pile wort spread out on the grass a thousand shiny stars. The primroses were there, and the remains of a few daffodils. The well, which we cleaned out last night, is still but a little muddy pond, though full of water.... Read Ferguson's life and a poem or two.... [Footnote 59: Can these "Verses" have been the first draft of _Dejection, an Ode_, in its earliest and afterwards abandoned form? It is said to have been written on 2nd April 1802.--ED.]