DEAR SIR--I am not surprised at our topographical divisions giving a stranger difficulty. They belong to the cross kind. Thus, Dunnerdale (as it is now here usually spelled) forms an integral part of the civil division, or township, of Dunnerdale and Seathwaite, whilst ecclesiastically it is attached, not to Seathwaite, but to the ecclesiastical parish or district of Broughton-in-Furness; Seathwaite, Broughton-in-Furness, and Woodland (now all separate benefices), being so many outlying parts of the ancient ecclesiastical and civil parish of Kirkby-Ireleth. Dunnerdale itself is the name given to the district which lies on the east or Lancashire bank of the Duddon, from a point a few yards south of Ulpha bridge till it meets the boundary of Broughton proper, or the right bank of the Lickle, a small tributary of the Duddon, the main portion of it being enclosed in a little valley parallel to that of the Duddon. The fells bounding it do, on the more northern part, form a line of division from Seathwaite.... S. R. M. WALKER."] ] XXI "WHENCE THAT LOW VOICE?--A WHISPER FROM THE HEART" Whence that low voice?--A whisper from the heart, That told of days long past, when here I roved With friends and kindred tenderly beloved;[FX] Some who had early mandates to depart, Yet are allowed to steal my path athwart 5 By Duddon's side; once more do we unite, Once more beneath the kind Earth's tranquil light; And smothered joys into new being start. From her unworthy seat, the cloudy stall Of Time, breaks forth triumphant Memory; 10 Her glistening tresses bound, yet light and free As golden locks of birch, that rise and fall On gales that breathe too gently to recal Aught of the fading year's inclemency![FY] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote FX: See the Fenwick note prefixed to the Duddon Sonnets.--ED.] [Footnote FY: "If, in Sonnet VI., Wordsworth was describing the Duddon in April, the lines Golden locks of birch, that rise and fall On gales that breathe too gently to recal Aught of the fading year's inclemency, tell us that he was a wanderer here in October also." (H. D. Rawnsley.)] XXII TRADITION[FZ] A love-lorn Maid, at some far-distant time, Came to this hidden pool, whose depths surpass In crystal clearness Dian's looking-glass; And, gazing, saw that Rose, which from the prime Derives its name, reflected as the chime 5 Of echo doth reverberate some sweet sound: The starry treasure from the blue profound She longed to ravish;--shall she plunge, or climb The humid precipice, and seize the guest Of April, smiling high in upper air? 10 Desperate alternative! what fiend could dare To prompt the thought?--Upon the steep rock's breast The lonely Primrose yet renews its bloom, Untouched memento of her hapless doom! XXIII SHEEP-WASHING[GA]