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

Last, let us turn to Chamouny that shields [157]
  With rocks and gloomy woods [158] her fertile fields:          570
  Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,
  And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend;--[Ee]
  A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns
  Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains;
  Here all the seasons revel hand in hand:                       575
  'Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned [159]
  [160] They sport beneath that mountain's matchless height [161]
  That holds no commerce with the summer night. [Ee]
  From age to age, throughout [162] his lonely bounds
  The crash of ruin fitfully resounds;                           580
  Appalling [163] havoc! but serene his brow,
  Where daylight lingers on [164] perpetual snow;
  Glitter the stars, and all is black below. [Ee]

    What marvel then if many a Wanderer sigh,
  While roars the sullen Arve in anger by, [165]                 585
  That not for thy reward, unrivall'd [166] Vale! [Ff]
  Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale;
  That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed to pine
  And droop, while no Italian arts are thine,
  To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine. [167]                 590

    Hail Freedom! whether it was mine to stray,
  With shrill winds whistling round my lonely way, [168]
  On [169] the bleak sides of Cumbria's heath-clad moors,
  Or where dank sea-weed lashes Scotland's shores;
  To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose,              595
  And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;
  Still have I found, where Tyranny prevails,
  That virtue languishes and pleasure fails, [170]
  While the remotest hamlets blessings share
  In thy loved [171] presence known, and only there;             600
  _Heart_-blessings--outward treasures too which the eye
  Of the sun peeping through the clouds can spy,
  And every passing breeze will testify. [172]
  There, to the porch, belike with jasmine bound
  Or woodbine wreaths, a smoother path is wound; [173]           605
  The housewife there a brighter garden sees,
  Where hum on busier wing her happy bees; [174]
  On infant cheeks there fresher roses blow;
  And grey-haired men look up with livelier brow,--[175]
  To greet the traveller needing food and rest;                  610
  Housed for the night, or but a half-hour's guest. [176]

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

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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

Last, let us turn to Chamouny that shields [157]
  With rocks and gloomy woods [158] her fertile fields:          570
  Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,
  And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend;--[Ee]
  A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns
  Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains;
  Here all the seasons revel hand in hand:                       575
  'Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned [159]
  [160] They sport beneath that mountain's matchless height [161]
  That holds no commerce with the summer night. [Ee]
  From age to age, throughout [162] his lonely bounds
  The crash of ruin fitfully resounds;                           580
  Appalling [163] havoc! but serene his brow,
  Where daylight lingers on [164] perpetual snow;
  Glitter the stars, and all is black below. [Ee]

    What marvel then if many a Wanderer sigh,
  While roars the sullen Arve in anger by, [165]                 585
  That not for thy reward, unrivall'd [166] Vale! [Ff]
  Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale;
  That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed to pine
  And droop, while no Italian arts are thine,
  To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine. [167]                 590

    Hail Freedom! whether it was mine to stray,
  With shrill winds whistling round my lonely way, [168]
  On [169] the bleak sides of Cumbria's heath-clad moors,
  Or where dank sea-weed lashes Scotland's shores;
  To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose,              595
  And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;
  Still have I found, where Tyranny prevails,
  That virtue languishes and pleasure fails, [170]
  While the remotest hamlets blessings share
  In thy loved [171] presence known, and only there;             600
  _Heart_-blessings--outward treasures too which the eye
  Of the sun peeping through the clouds can spy,
  And every passing breeze will testify. [172]
  There, to the porch, belike with jasmine bound
  Or woodbine wreaths, a smoother path is wound; [173]           605
  The housewife there a brighter garden sees,
  Where hum on busier wing her happy bees; [174]
  On infant cheeks there fresher roses blow;
  And grey-haired men look up with livelier brow,--[175]
  To greet the traveller needing food and rest;                  610
  Housed for the night, or but a half-hour's guest. [176]

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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