Were ready comrades whom he could not tire;

Of whose society the blameless Man

Was never satiate. Their familiar voice,

Even to old age, with unabated charm

Beguiled his leisure hours; refreshed his thoughts; 50 Beyond its natural elevation raised

His introverted spirit; and bestowed
Upon his life an outward dignity

Which all acknowledged. The dark winter night,

The stormy day, each had its own resource;
Song of the muses, sage historic tale,
Science severe, or word of holy Writ
Announcing immortality and joy
To the assembled spirits of just men
Made perfect, and from injury secure.
-Thus soothed at home, thus busy in the field,
To no perverse suspicion he gave way,
No languor, peevishness, or vain complaint:
And they, who were about him, did not fail
In reverence, or in courtesy; they prized
His gentle manners: and his peaceful smiles,
The gleams of his slow-varying countenance,
Were met with answering sympathy and love.

At length, when sixty years and five were told,

A slow disease insensibly consumed

The powers of nature: and a few short steps

Of friends and kindred bore him from his home

(Yon cottage shaded by the woody crags)

To the profounder stillness of the grave.

55

60

65

70

Nor was his funeral denied the grace
Of many tears, virtuous and thoughtful grief;
Heart-sorrow rendered sweet by gratitude.
And now that monumental stone preserves
His name, and unambitiously relates

75

How long, and by what kindly outward aids,
And in what pure contentedness of mind,
The sad privation was by him endured.

80

-And yon tall pine-tree, whose composing sound
Was wasted on the good Man's living ear,
Hath now its own peculiar sanctity;

And, at the touch of every wandering breeze,
Murmurs, not idly, o'er his peaceful grave.

85

IX. SUNSET AND SUMMer Haze.

Already had the sun,

Sinking with less than ordinary state,

Attained his western bound; but rays of light

Now suddenly diverging from the orb

Retired behind the mountain-tops or veiled

By the dense air-shot upwards to the crown
Of the blue firmament-aloft, and wide:
And multitudes of little floating clouds,
Through their ethereal texture pierced-ere we,
Who saw, of change were conscious-had become
Vivid as fire; clouds separately poised,—
Innumerable multitude of forms

5

ΙΟ

Scattered through half the circle of the sky;
And giving back, and shedding each on each,
With prodigal communion, the bright hues
Which from the unapparent fount of glory
They had imbibed, and ceased not to receive.
That which the heavens displayed, the liquid deep
Repeated; but with unity sublime!

15

These three stanzas originally formed one poem with two others which are now entitled Lines written while sailing in a boat at evening. They were composed in 1789 and first published in 1798. Although the poem was actually composed beside the Cam at Cambridge, William Collins' (1721-59) Ode on the Death of Mr Thomson, the scene of which 'is supposed to lie on the Thames, near Richmond,' suggested its theme and title.

5-8. Wordsworth was obviously thinking of sir John Denham's famous lines, Cooper's Hill, 189–92:

O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream

My great example, as it is my theme!

Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull;
Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full.

13-16. The end of Collins' life was darkened by insanity. His beautiful ode on Thomson, a cardinal example of that 'skill to complain' and to awaken feelings of pity in others which he possessed, was apparently written upon the Thames, within sight of the spire of Richmond church, where Thomson, the author of The Seasons, was buried. Thomson is peculiarly associated with Richmond, where the later years of his life were spent: he died there in 1748.

14. later] Wordsworth notes that Collins' ode on Thomson was 'the last written, I believe, of the poems which were published during his life-time.' The comparative degree therefore distinguishes the maturity of Collins' poem from the conscious youthfulness of Wordsworth's attempt to follow him.

18.

23.

See Ode on the Death of Mr Thomson, 13-16:
Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore

When Thames in summer wreaths is drest;
And oft suspend the dashing oar

To bid his gentle spirit rest!

The evening darkness] Cf. ibid. 33, 34:
And see, the fairy valleys fade,

Dun Night has veil'd the solemn view.

EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY.

This poem and the companion piece, The Tables Turned, were composed at Alfoxden in the spring of 1798 and were published in Lyrical Ballads, later in the same year. Wordsworth contrasts the learning derived from books with that to be derived from Nature by the willing mind. In the classified editions of his poems, these two form Nos. I and II of Poems of Sentiment and Reflection.

13. Esthwaite lake] The lake at the head of which Hawkshead, the scene of Wordsworth's school-days, is situated.

15. Matthew] A person introduced several times into his early poems by Wordsworth, and explained by him elsewhere as compounded from various characters of his acquaintance.

21. Powers] The invisible forces of Nature. Cf. To the Rev. Dr Wordsworth, 29, p. 68 above; 'these rustic Powers.'

THE TABLES TURNED.

See introd. note to the preceding poem.

21. Cf. the stanzas To my Sister ('It is the first mild day of March'), written about the same time, ll. 25–8:

One moment now may give us more

Than years of toiling reason:

Our minds shall drink at every pore
The spirit of the season.