The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 6 (of 8)

Name: The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 6 (of 8)
Author: Wordsworth, William

Wordsworth, William

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

But now he upraises the deep-sunken eye,
     The motion unsettles a tear;
    The silence of sorrow it seems to supply,
     And asks of me--why I am here.--I. F.]

This was first published in "The River Duddon," etc., in 1820, but was
omitted from the four-volume edition of the "Poems" of 1820. In 1827 it
was placed among the "Poems founded on the Affections."--ED.

    I

    Smile of the Moon!--for so I name
    That silent greeting from above;
    A gentle flash of light that came
    From her whom drooping captives love;
    Or art thou of still higher birth?                             5
    Thou that didst part the clouds of earth,
    My torpor to reprove!

    II

    Bright boon of pitying Heaven!--alas,
    I may not trust thy placid cheer!
    Pondering that Time to-night will pass                        10
    The threshold of another year;
    For years to me are sad and dull;
    My very moments are too full
    Of hopelessness and fear.

    III

    And yet, the soul-awakening gleam,                            15
    That struck perchance the farthest cone
    Of Scotland's rocky wilds, did seem
    To visit me, and me alone;
    Me, unapproached by any friend,
    Save[290] those who to my sorrows lend                        20
    Tears due unto their own.
    [291]

    IV

    To-night the church-tower bells will ring
    Through these wide[292] realms a festive peal;
    To the new year a welcoming;
    A tuneful offering[293] for the weal                          25
    Of happy millions lulled in sleep;
    While I am forced to watch and weep,[294]
    By wounds that may not heal.

    V

    Born all too high, by wedlock raised
    Still higher--to be cast thus low!                            30
    Would that mine eyes had never gazed
    On aught of more ambitious show
    Than the sweet flowerets of the fields!
    --It is my royal state that yields
    This bitterness of woe.                                       35

    VI

    Yet how?--for I, if there be truth
    In the world's voice, was passing fair;
    And beauty, for confiding youth,
    Those shocks of passion can prepare
    That kill the bloom before its time;                          40
    And blanch, without the owner's crime,
    The most resplendent hair.[295]

    VII

    Unblest distinction! showered on me
    To bind a lingering life in chains:
    All that could quit my grasp, or flee,[296]                   45
    Is gone;--but not the subtle stains
    Fixed in the spirit; for even here
    Can I be proud that jealous fear
    Of what I was remains.[297]

    VIII

    A woman rules my prison's key;                                50
    A sister Queen,[298] against the bent
    Of law and holiest sympathy,
    Detains me, doubtful of the event;
    Great God, who feel'st for my distress,[299]
    My thoughts are all that I possess,                           55
    O keep them innocent!

    IX

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

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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 6 (of 8)Wordsworth, William

General

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 6 (of 8)

Wordsworth, William

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

But now he upraises the deep-sunken eye,
     The motion unsettles a tear;
    The silence of sorrow it seems to supply,
     And asks of me--why I am here.--I. F.]

This was first published in "The River Duddon," etc., in 1820, but was
omitted from the four-volume edition of the "Poems" of 1820. In 1827 it
was placed among the "Poems founded on the Affections."--ED.

    I

    Smile of the Moon!--for so I name
    That silent greeting from above;
    A gentle flash of light that came
    From her whom drooping captives love;
    Or art thou of still higher birth?                             5
    Thou that didst part the clouds of earth,
    My torpor to reprove!

    II

    Bright boon of pitying Heaven!--alas,
    I may not trust thy placid cheer!
    Pondering that Time to-night will pass                        10
    The threshold of another year;
    For years to me are sad and dull;
    My very moments are too full
    Of hopelessness and fear.

    III

    And yet, the soul-awakening gleam,                            15
    That struck perchance the farthest cone
    Of Scotland's rocky wilds, did seem
    To visit me, and me alone;
    Me, unapproached by any friend,
    Save[290] those who to my sorrows lend                        20
    Tears due unto their own.
    [291]

    IV

    To-night the church-tower bells will ring
    Through these wide[292] realms a festive peal;
    To the new year a welcoming;
    A tuneful offering[293] for the weal                          25
    Of happy millions lulled in sleep;
    While I am forced to watch and weep,[294]
    By wounds that may not heal.

    V

    Born all too high, by wedlock raised
    Still higher--to be cast thus low!                            30
    Would that mine eyes had never gazed
    On aught of more ambitious show
    Than the sweet flowerets of the fields!
    --It is my royal state that yields
    This bitterness of woe.                                       35

    VI

    Yet how?--for I, if there be truth
    In the world's voice, was passing fair;
    And beauty, for confiding youth,
    Those shocks of passion can prepare
    That kill the bloom before its time;                          40
    And blanch, without the owner's crime,
    The most resplendent hair.[295]

    VII

    Unblest distinction! showered on me
    To bind a lingering life in chains:
    All that could quit my grasp, or flee,[296]                   45
    Is gone;--but not the subtle stains
    Fixed in the spirit; for even here
    Can I be proud that jealous fear
    Of what I was remains.[297]

    VIII

    A woman rules my prison's key;                                50
    A sister Queen,[298] against the bent
    Of law and holiest sympathy,
    Detains me, doubtful of the event;
    Great God, who feel'st for my distress,[299]
    My thoughts are all that I possess,                           55
    O keep them innocent!

    IX

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

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 6 (of 8)

The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 6 (of 8)

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