THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, VOL. 8 (Completed)

PRELUDE, PREFIXED TO THE VOLUME ENTITLED"POEMS CHIEFLY OF EARLY AND LATE YEARS"

Composed March 26, 1842.--Published 1842

[These verses were begun while I was on a visit to my son John at Brigham, and were finished at Rydal. As the contents of the volume, to which they are now prefixed, will be assigned to their respective classes when my poems shall be collected in one volume, I should be at a loss where with propriety to place this prelude, being too restricted in it's bearing to serve for a preface for the whole. The lines towards the conclusion allude to the discontents then fomented through the country by the agitators of the Anti-Corn-Law League: the particular causes of such troubles are transitory, but disposition to excite and liability to be excited are nevertheless permanent, and therefore proper objects for the poet's regard.--I.F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Poems."--ED.

In desultory walk through orchard grounds,

Or some deep chestnut grove, oft have I paused

The while a Thrush, urged rather than restrained

By gusts of vernal storm, attuned his song

To his own genial instincts; and was heard

(Though not without some plaintive tones between)

To utter, above showers of blossom swept

From tossing boughs, the promise of a calm,

Which the unsheltered traveller might receive

With thankful spirit. The descant, and the wind

That seemed to play with it in love or scorn,

Encouraged and endeared the strain of words

That haply flowed from me, by fits of silence

Impelled to livelier pace. But now, my Book!

Charged with those lays, and others of like mood,

Or loftier pitch if higher rose the theme,

Go, single--yet aspiring to be joined

With thy Forerunners that through many a year

Have faithfully prepared each other's way--

Go forth upon a mission best fulfilled

When and wherever, in this changeful world,

Power hath been given to please for higher ends

Than pleasure only; gladdening to prepare

For wholesome sadness, troubling to refine,

Calming to raise; and, by a sapient Art

Diffused through all the mysteries of our Being,

Softening the toils and pains that have not ceased

To cast their shadows on our mother Earth

Since the primeval doom. Such is the grace

Which, though unsued for, fails not to descend

With heavenly inspiration; such the aim

That Reason dictates; and, as even the wish

Has virtue in it, why should hope to me

Be wanting that sometimes, where fancied ills

Harass the mind and strip from off the bowers

Of private life their natural pleasantness,

A Voice--devoted to the love whose seeds

Are sown in every human breast, to beauty

Lodged within compass of the humblest sight,

To cheerful intercourse with wood and field,

And sympathy with man's substantial griefs--

Will not be heard in vain? And in those days

When unforeseen distress spreads far and wide

Among a People mournfully cast down,

Or into anger roused by venal words

In recklessness flung out to overturn

The judgment, and divert the general heart

From mutual good--some strain of thine, my Book!

Caught at propitious intervals, may win

Listeners who not unwillingly admit

Kindly emotion tending to console

And reconcile; and both with young and old

Exalt the sense of thoughtful gratitude

For benefits that still survive, by faith

In progress, under laws divine, maintained.

RYDAL MOUNT, March 26, 1842.