May sort with highest objects, then-dread Power! Whose gracious favour is the primal source

Of all illumination-may my Life

Express the image of a better time,

More wise desires, and simpler manners;-nurse

ΙΟΙ

My Heart in genuine freedom :—all pure thoughts 105
Be with me ;-so shall thy unfailing love
Guide, and support, and cheer me to the end!"

Book First

THE WANDERER *

ARGUMENT

A summer forenoon—The Author reaches a ruïned Cottage upon a Common, and there meets with a revered Friend, the Wanderer, of whose education and course of life he gives an account1- The Wanderer, while resting under the shade of the Trees that surround the Cottage, relates the History of its last Inhabitant.

'TWAS summer, and the sun had mounted high:
Southward the landscape indistinctly glared
Through a pale steam; † but all the northern downs,

In clearest air ascending, showed far off

A surface dappled o'er with shadows flung

1 1836.

the Wanderer, of whom he gives an account—

1814.

5

* In a copy of the quarto edition of The Excursion (1814) bequeathed by the Poet to his grandson, the Rev. John Wordsworth, there are numerous changes of text in his own handwriting, or that of his wife. The majority of these were incorporated in later editions. Several of them, however, were not. These are reproduced in this edition, wherever it has been thought expedient to preserve them, and are indicated as "MS." readings. the fly-leaf of the same presentation copy of the 1814 edition, Mrs. Wordsworth wrote out Mr. R. P. Gillies' sonnet, addressed to the author of The Excursion.-ED.

† Compare An Evening Walk (vol. i. p. 9)—

When, in the south, the wan noon, brooding still,
Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill.

ED.

On

1

From brooding clouds; shadows that lay in spots 1
Determined and unmoved, with steady beams
Of bright and pleasant sunshine interposed;
To him most pleasant who on soft cool moss 2
Extends his careless limbs along the front

Of some huge cave, whose rocky ceiling casts
A twilight of its own,* an ample shade,
Where the wren warbles, while the dreaming man,
Half conscious of the soothing melody,
With side-long eye looks out upon the scene,†
By power of that impending covert, thrown,
To finer distance. Mine was at that hour
Far other lot, yet with good hope that soon
Under a shade as grateful I should find
Rest, and be welcomed there to livelier joy.3
Across a bare wide Common I was toiling

1 1827.

From many a brooding cloud; far as the sight
Could reach, those many shadows lay in spots

1814.

ΙΟ

15

20

2 1845.

Pleasant to him who on the soft cool moss

1814.

3 1845.

By that impending covert made more soft,
More low and distant! Other lot was mine;
Yet with good hope that soon I should obtain
As grateful resting-place, and livelier joy.
By power of that impending covert thrown

Other lot was mine;

Other lot was mine;

1814.

To finer distance.

1827.

Though with good hope to cheer the sultry hour
That under shade as grateful I should soon
Rest, and be welcomed there to livelier joy.

C.

Mine was at that hour

A toilsome lot, yet with good hope that soon
Under a shade as grateful I should find

* Compare An Evening Walk (vol. i. p. 11)—

And its own twilight softens the whole scene. + Compare the sonnet composed in boyhood, beginningSweet was the walk along the narrow lane,

and printed in an Appendix to vol. viii.-ED.

C.

ED.

With languid steps that by the slippery turf 1
Were baffled; nor could my weak arm disperse
The host of insects gathering round my face,
And ever with me as I paced along.2

Upon that open moorland stood a grove, The wished-for port to which my course was bound.3 Thither I came, and there, amid the gloom Spread by a brotherhood of lofty elms,* Appeared a roofless Hut; four naked walls That stared upon each other!—I looked round, And to my wish and to my hope espied

4

The Friend I sought; a Man of reverend age,
But stout and hale, for travel unimpaired.
There was he seen upon the cottage-bench,
Recumbent in the shade, as if asleep;
An iron-pointed staff lay at his side.

Him had I marked the day before—alone And stationed in the public way, with face

25

30

35

With languid feet, which by the slippery ground
With languid steps that

1814.

1827.

Now with eyes turned towards the far-distant hills,
Now towards a grove that from the wide-spread moor
Rose up! the port to which my course was bound.

3 1845.

Upon that open level stood a Grove,

C.

The wished-for Port to which my steps were bound. 1814. my course was bound. 1827.

1

Turned toward the sun then setting, while that staff
Afforded, to the figure of the man
Detained for contemplation or repose,
Graceful support; his countenance as he stood
Was hidden from my view, and he remained 2
Unrecognised; but, stricken by the sight,
With slackened footsteps I advanced, and soon
A glad congratulation we exchanged
At such unthought-of meeting.-For the night
We parted, nothing willingly; and now
He by appointment waited for me here,
Under the covert 3 of these clustering elms.

We were tried Friends: amid a pleasant vale,
In the antique market-village where was passed
My school-time,* an apartment he had owned,
To which at intervals the Wanderer drew, 4

1 1827.

And in the middle of the public way
Stationed, as if to rest himself, with face

41

45

50

55

Turned tow'rds the sun then setting, while that staff
Afforded to his Figure, as he stood,

1814.

Him had I chanced to mark the day before

Alone, and stationed in the public way;

Westward he looked as if his gaze were fixed
Upon the sun then setting,

2 1845.

the countenance of the Man

C.

We were tried Friends: I from my Childhood up
Had known him.-In a little Town obscure,

*Hawkshead. Compare the notes to The Prelude, in books i. and ii. The Fenwick note tells us, "At Hawkshead, while I was a schoolboy, there occasionally resided a Packman, with whom I had frequent conversations upon what had befallen him, and what he had observed, during his wandering life; and, as was natural, we took much to each other."-ED.

And found a kind of home or harbour there.
He loved me; from a swarm of rosy boys
Singled out me, as he in sport would say,

For my grave looks, too thoughtful for my years.
As I grew up, it was my best delight

To be his chosen comrade. Many a time,
On holidays, we rambled through the woods:
We sate-we walked; he pleased me with report
Of things which he had seen; and often touched
Abstrusest matter, reasonings of the mind
Turned inward; or at my request would sing 2
Old songs, the product of his native hills; 3
A skilful distribution of sweet sounds,
Feeding the soul, and eagerly imbibed
As cool refreshing water, by the care

Of the industrious husbandman, diffused

60

65

Through a parched meadow-ground, in time of drought.
Still deeper welcome found his pure discourse:
How precious when in riper days I learned

70

To weigh with care his words, and to rejoice
In the plain presence of his dignity!

75

Oh! many are the Poets that are sown
By Nature; men endowed with highest gifts,

A market-village, seated in a tract

Of mountains, where my school-day time was pass'd,
One room he owned, the fifth part of a house,
A place to which he drew, from time to time,

1814.

We were tried Friends: amid a pleasant vale,
In the antique market village where were pass'd
My school-days, an apartment he had own'd,
To which at intervals the Wanderer drew,

1827.

1 1827.

On holidays, we wandered through the woods,

A pair of random travellers; we sate

We walked; he pleas'd me with his sweet discourse 1814.

2 1827.

he sang

1814.

3 1814.

Old songs brought with him from his native hills;

C.