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

GRACE DARLING[414]

Composed 1842.--Published 1845

Wordsworth's lines on Grace Darling were printed privately, and anonymously, at Carlisle, before they were included in the 1845 edition of his works. A copy was sent to Mr. Dyce, and is preserved in the Dyce Library at South Kensington. Another was sent to Professor Reed (March27, 1843), with a letter, in which the following occurs: "I threw it off two or three weeks ago, being in a great measure impelled to it by the desire I felt to do justice to the memory of a heroine, whose conduct presented, some time ago, a striking contrast to the inhumanity with which our countrymen, shipwrecked lately upon the French coast, have been treated."


Edward Quillinan, writing on 25th March 1843, enclosed a copy, adding,"Mr. Wordsworth desires me to send you the enclosed eulogy on Grace Darling, recently composed. He begs me to say that he wishes it kept out of the newspapers, as he has printed it only for some of his friends, and his friends' friends more peculiarly interested in the subject, for the present. Do not therefore give a copy to any one."


"Almost immediately after I had composed my tribute to the memory of Grace Darling, I learnt that the Queen and Queen Dowager had both just subscribed towards the erection of a monument to record her heroism, upon the spot that witnessed it." (Wordsworth to Sir W. Gomm, March 24,1843.)--ED.

Among the dwellers in the silent fields

The natural heart is touched, and public way

And crowded streets resound with ballad strains,

Inspired by ONE whose very name bespeaks

Favour divine, exalting human love;

Whom, since her birth on bleak Northumbria's coast,

Known unto few but prized as far as known,

A single Act endears to high and low

Through the whole land--to Manhood, moved in spite

Of the world's freezing cares--to generous Youth--

To Infancy, that lisps her praise--to Age

Whose eye reflects it, glistening through a tear

Of tremulous admiration. Such true fame

Awaits her now; but, verily, good deeds

Do no imperishable record find

Save in the rolls of heaven, where hers may live

A theme for angels, when they celebrate

The high-souled virtues which forgetful earth

Has witness'd. Oh! that winds and waves could speak

Of things which their united power called forth

From the pure depths of her humanity!

A Maiden gentle, yet, at duty's call,

Firm and unflinching, as the Lighthouse reared

On the Island-rock, her lonely dwelling-place;

Or like the invincible Rock itself that braves,

Age after age, the hostile elements,

As when it guarded holy Cuthbert's cell.[415]


     All night the storm had raged, nor ceased, nor paused,

When, as day broke, the Maid, through misty air,

Espies far off a Wreck, amid the surf,

Beating on one of those disastrous isles--

Half of a Vessel, half--no more; the rest

Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there

Had for the common safety striven in vain,