The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 3 (of 8)

Name: The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 3 (of 8)
Author: Wordsworth, William

Wordsworth, William

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

If this be error, and another faith
  Find easier access to the pious mind,                              420
  Yet were I grossly destitute of all
  Those human sentiments that make this earth
  So dear, if I should fail with grateful voice
  To speak of you, ye mountains, and ye lakes
  And sounding cataracts, ye mists and winds                         425
  That dwell among the hills where I was born.
  If in my youth I have been pure in heart,
  If, mingling with the world, I am content
  With my own modest pleasures, and have lived
  With God and Nature communing, removed                             430
  From little enmities and low desires,
  The gift is yours; if in these times of fear,
  This melancholy waste of hopes o'erthrown,
  If, 'mid indifference and apathy,
  And wicked exultation when good men                                435
  On every side fall off, we know not how,
  To selfishness, disguised in gentle names
  Of peace and quiet and domestic love,
  Yet mingled not unwillingly with sneers
  On visionary minds; if, in this time                               440
  Of dereliction and dismay, I yet
  Despair not of our nature, but retain
  A more than Roman confidence, a faith
  That fails not, in all sorrow my support,
  The blessing of my life; the gift is yours,                        445
  Ye winds and sounding cataracts! 'tis yours,
  Ye mountains! thine, O Nature! Thou hast fed
  My lofty speculations; and in thee,
  For this uneasy heart of ours, I find
  A never-failing principle of joy                                   450
  And purest passion.
                       Thou, my Friend! wert reared
  In the great city, 'mid far other scenes; [a]
  But we, by different roads, at length have gained
  The self-same bourne. And for this cause to thee
  I speak, unapprehensive of contempt,                               455
  The insinuated scoff of coward tongues,
  And all that silent language which so oft
  In conversation between man and man
  Blots from the human countenance all trace
  Of beauty and of love. For thou hast sought                        460
  The truth in solitude, and, since the days
  That gave thee liberty, full long desired,
  To serve in Nature's temple, thou hast been
  The most assiduous of her ministers;
  In many things my brother, chiefly here                            465
  In this our deep devotion.
                              Fare thee well!
  Health and the quiet of a healthful mind
  Attend thee! seeking oft the haunts of men,
  And yet more often living with thyself,
  And for thyself, so haply shall thy days                           470
  Be many, and a blessing to mankind. [b]


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FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

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

Opening the text

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 3 (of 8)Wordsworth, William

General

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 3 (of 8)

Wordsworth, William

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

If this be error, and another faith
  Find easier access to the pious mind,                              420
  Yet were I grossly destitute of all
  Those human sentiments that make this earth
  So dear, if I should fail with grateful voice
  To speak of you, ye mountains, and ye lakes
  And sounding cataracts, ye mists and winds                         425
  That dwell among the hills where I was born.
  If in my youth I have been pure in heart,
  If, mingling with the world, I am content
  With my own modest pleasures, and have lived
  With God and Nature communing, removed                             430
  From little enmities and low desires,
  The gift is yours; if in these times of fear,
  This melancholy waste of hopes o'erthrown,
  If, 'mid indifference and apathy,
  And wicked exultation when good men                                435
  On every side fall off, we know not how,
  To selfishness, disguised in gentle names
  Of peace and quiet and domestic love,
  Yet mingled not unwillingly with sneers
  On visionary minds; if, in this time                               440
  Of dereliction and dismay, I yet
  Despair not of our nature, but retain
  A more than Roman confidence, a faith
  That fails not, in all sorrow my support,
  The blessing of my life; the gift is yours,                        445
  Ye winds and sounding cataracts! 'tis yours,
  Ye mountains! thine, O Nature! Thou hast fed
  My lofty speculations; and in thee,
  For this uneasy heart of ours, I find
  A never-failing principle of joy                                   450
  And purest passion.
                       Thou, my Friend! wert reared
  In the great city, 'mid far other scenes; [a]
  But we, by different roads, at length have gained
  The self-same bourne. And for this cause to thee
  I speak, unapprehensive of contempt,                               455
  The insinuated scoff of coward tongues,
  And all that silent language which so oft
  In conversation between man and man
  Blots from the human countenance all trace
  Of beauty and of love. For thou hast sought                        460
  The truth in solitude, and, since the days
  That gave thee liberty, full long desired,
  To serve in Nature's temple, thou hast been
  The most assiduous of her ministers;
  In many things my brother, chiefly here                            465
  In this our deep devotion.
                              Fare thee well!
  Health and the quiet of a healthful mind
  Attend thee! seeking oft the haunts of men,
  And yet more often living with thyself,
  And for thyself, so haply shall thy days                           470
  Be many, and a blessing to mankind. [b]


       *       *       *       *       *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

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

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 3 (of 8)

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 3 (of 8)

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