The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 (of 8)

Name: The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 (of 8)
Author: Wordsworth, William

Wordsworth, William

English poetry -- 18th century; English poetry -- 19th century

Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!
  And while in that vast solitude to which
  The tide of things has borne [19] him, he appears              165
  To breathe and live but for himself alone,
  Unblamed, uninjured, let him bear about
  The good which the benignant law of Heaven
  Has hung around him: and, while life is his,
  Still let him prompt the unlettered villagers                  170
  To tender offices and pensive thoughts. [D]
 --Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!
  And, long as he can wander, let him breathe
  The freshness of the valleys; let his blood
  Struggle with frosty air and winter snows;                     175
  And let the chartered wind that sweeps the heath
  Beat his grey locks against his withered face.
  Reverence the hope whose vital anxiousness
  Gives the last human interest to his heart.
  May never HOUSE, misnamed of INDUSTRY,                         180
  Make him a captive!--for that pent-up din,
  Those life-consuming sounds that clog the air,
  Be his the natural silence of old age!
  Let him be free of mountain solitudes;
  And have around him, whether heard or not,                     185
  The pleasant melody of woodland birds.
  Few are his pleasures: if his eyes have now
  Been doomed so long to settle upon earth
  That not without some effort they behold
  The countenance of the horizontal sun, [20]                    190
  Rising or setting, let the light at least
  Find a free entrance to their languid orbs.
  And let him, _where_ and _when_ he will, sit down
  Beneath the trees, or on a [21] grassy bank
  Of highway side, and with the little birds                     195
  Share his chance-gathered meal; and, finally,
  As in the eye of Nature he has lived,
  So in the eye of Nature let him die! [E]


       *       *       *       *       *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1805.

...     eat ...     1800.]


[Variant 2:

1837.

    The sauntering horseman-traveller does not throw
    With careless hand ...                            1800.]


[Variant 3:

1827.

    Towards the aged Beggar turns a look,     1800.]


[Variant 4:

1827.

    ... and, if perchance     1800.]


[Variant 5:

1800.

    ... and, evermore,
    Instead of Nature's fair variety,]
    Her ample scope of hill and dale, of clouds
    And the blue sky, the same short span of earth
    Is all his prospect. When the little birds
    Flit over him, if their quick shadows strike
    Across his path, he does not lift his head
    Like one whose thoughts have been unsettled. So
    Brow-bent, his eyes for ever ...                    MS.]


[Variant 6:

1827.

    And never ...     1800.]


[Variant 7:

1800.

    ... his slow footsteps scarce     MS.]


[Variant 8:

1800.

    ... that the miller's dog
    Is tired of barking at him.     MS.]


[Variant 9:

1837.

    ... have ...     1800.]


[Variant 10:

1837.

    ... and ...     1800.]

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 (of 8)Wordsworth, William

General

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 (of 8)

Wordsworth, William

English poetry -- 18th century; English poetry -- 19th century

Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!
  And while in that vast solitude to which
  The tide of things has borne [19] him, he appears              165
  To breathe and live but for himself alone,
  Unblamed, uninjured, let him bear about
  The good which the benignant law of Heaven
  Has hung around him: and, while life is his,
  Still let him prompt the unlettered villagers                  170
  To tender offices and pensive thoughts. [D]
 --Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!
  And, long as he can wander, let him breathe
  The freshness of the valleys; let his blood
  Struggle with frosty air and winter snows;                     175
  And let the chartered wind that sweeps the heath
  Beat his grey locks against his withered face.
  Reverence the hope whose vital anxiousness
  Gives the last human interest to his heart.
  May never HOUSE, misnamed of INDUSTRY,                         180
  Make him a captive!--for that pent-up din,
  Those life-consuming sounds that clog the air,
  Be his the natural silence of old age!
  Let him be free of mountain solitudes;
  And have around him, whether heard or not,                     185
  The pleasant melody of woodland birds.
  Few are his pleasures: if his eyes have now
  Been doomed so long to settle upon earth
  That not without some effort they behold
  The countenance of the horizontal sun, [20]                    190
  Rising or setting, let the light at least
  Find a free entrance to their languid orbs.
  And let him, _where_ and _when_ he will, sit down
  Beneath the trees, or on a [21] grassy bank
  Of highway side, and with the little birds                     195
  Share his chance-gathered meal; and, finally,
  As in the eye of Nature he has lived,
  So in the eye of Nature let him die! [E]


       *       *       *       *       *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1805.

...     eat ...     1800.]


[Variant 2:

1837.

    The sauntering horseman-traveller does not throw
    With careless hand ...                            1800.]


[Variant 3:

1827.

    Towards the aged Beggar turns a look,     1800.]


[Variant 4:

1827.

    ... and, if perchance     1800.]


[Variant 5:

1800.

    ... and, evermore,
    Instead of Nature's fair variety,]
    Her ample scope of hill and dale, of clouds
    And the blue sky, the same short span of earth
    Is all his prospect. When the little birds
    Flit over him, if their quick shadows strike
    Across his path, he does not lift his head
    Like one whose thoughts have been unsettled. So
    Brow-bent, his eyes for ever ...                    MS.]


[Variant 6:

1827.

    And never ...     1800.]


[Variant 7:

1800.

    ... his slow footsteps scarce     MS.]


[Variant 8:

1800.

    ... that the miller's dog
    Is tired of barking at him.     MS.]


[Variant 9:

1837.

    ... have ...     1800.]


[Variant 10:

1837.

    ... and ...     1800.]

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 (of 8)

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 (of 8)

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