Peter Bell: a TaleA

Composed 1798B—Published 1819.

What's in a Name?C Brutus will start a Spirit as soon as Cæsar!D To Robert Southey, Esq., P.L., Etc., Etc. My Dear Friend—The Tale of Peter Bell, which I now introduce to your notice, and to that of the Public, has, in its Manuscript state, nearly survived its minority:—for it first saw the light in the summer of 1798. During this long interval, pains have been taken at different times to make the production less unworthy of a favourable reception; or, rather, to fit it for filling permanently a station, however humble, in the Literature of our Country. This has, indeed, been the aim of all my endeavours in Poetry, which, you know, have been sufficiently laborious to prove that I deem the Art not lightly to be approached; and that the attainment of excellence in it, may laudably be made the principal object of intellectual pursuit by any man, who, with reasonable consideration of circumstances, has faith in his own impulses. The Poem of Peter Bell, as the Prologue will show, was composed under a belief that the Imagination not only does not require for its

exercise the intervention of supernatural agency, but that, though such agency be excluded, the faculty may be called forth as imperiously and for kindred results of pleasure, by incidents, within the compass of poetic probability, in the humblest departments of daily life. Since that Prologue was written, you have exhibited most splendid effects of judicious daring, in the opposite and usual course. Let this acknowledgment make my peace with the lovers of the supernatural; and I am persuaded it will be admitted, that to you, as a Master in that province of the art, the following Tale, whether from contrast or congruity, is not an unappropriate offering. Accept it, then, as a public testimony of affectionate admiration from one with whose name yours has been often coupled (to use your own words) for evil and for good; and believe me to be, with earnest wishes that life and health may be granted you to complete the many important works in which you are engaged, and with high respect, Most faithfully yours, William Wordsworth. Rydal Mount, April 7, 1819.

The Poem

And something

Whose shape is like

For shape just like

The noise of danger fills

Meanwhile I from the helm admire

... I soberly admire

Or deep into the heavens

Or into massy clouds

... between ...

... are ill-built, But proud let him be who has seen them;

... between ...

That darling speck ...

And there it is, ...

... heartless ...

Out—out—and, like a brooding hen, Beside your sooty hearth-stone cower; Go, creep along the dirt, and pick Your way with your good walking-stick, Just three good miles an hour!

... the land ...

My radiant Pinnace, you forget

For I myself, in very truth,

Off flew my sparkling Boat in scorn, Yea in a trance of indignation!

Spurning her freight with indignation!

... to my stone-table Limp'd on with some vexation.

... tow'rd my stone-table

... promptly ...

Breath fail'd me as I spake—but soon With lips, no doubt, and visage pale, And sore too from a slight contusion, Did I, to cover my confusion, Begin the promised Tale.

All by the moonlight river side It gave three miserable groans; "'Tis come then to a pretty pass," Said Peter to the groaning Ass, "But I will bang your bones!"

"Good Sir!"—the Vicar's voice exclaim'd, "You rush at once into the middle;" And little Bess, with accent sweeter, Cried, "O dear Sir! but who is Peter?" Said Stephen,—"'Tis a downright riddle!"

The Squire said, "Sure as paradise Was lost to man by Adam's sinning, This leap is for us all too bold;

Like winds that lash the waves, or smite The woods, the autumnal foliage thinning— "Hold!" said the Squire, "I pray you, hold!

The woods, autumnal foliage thinning—

... its ponderous knell, Its far-renowned alarum!

... his ponderous knell, A far-renowned alarum!

... that ponderous knell— His far-renowned alarum!

With Peter Bell, I need not tell That this had never been the case;—

... placid ...

... cheerfully ...

Till he is brought to an old quarry,

"What! would'st thou daunt me grisly den? Back must I, having come so far? Stretch as thou wilt thy gloomy jaws, I'll on, nor would I give two straws For lantern or for star!"

And so, where on the huge rough stones The black and massy shadows lay, And through the dark, ...

... made ...

Now you'll suppose that Peter Bell Felt small temptation here to tarry, And so it was,—but I must add, His heart was not a little glad When he was out of the old quarry.

Across that ...

And now he is among the trees;

"No doubt I'm founder'd in these woods— For once," quoth he, "I will be wise, With better speed I'll back again— And, lest the journey should prove vain, Will take yon Ass, my lawful prize!" Off Peter hied,—"A comely beast! Though not so plump as he might be; My honest friend, with such a platter, You should have been a little fatter, But come, Sir, come with me!"

But first doth Peter deem it fit To spy about him far and near;

"A prize," cried Peter, stepping back To spy ...

... Ass's back, ...

With ready heel the creature's side;

With ready heel his shaggy side;

"What's this!" cried Peter, brandishing A new-peel'd sapling white as cream; The Ass knew well what Peter said, But, as before, hung down his head Over the silent stream.

A new-peeled sapling;—though, I deem, The Ass knew well what Peter said, He, as before, ...

... —though I deem, This threat was understood full well, Firm, as before, the Sentinel Stood by the silent stream.

"I'll cure you of these desperate tricks"— And, with deliberate action slow, His staff high-raising, in the pride Of skill, upon the Ass's hide

What followed?—yielding to the shock The Ass, as if ...

And then upon ...

... as ...

The Beast on his tormentor turned A shining hazel eye.

His shining ...

Towards the river ...

Heav'd his lank sides, ...

All by the moonlight river side He gave three miserable groans, "'Tis come then to a pretty pass," Said Peter to the groaning ass, "But I will bang your bones!" And Peter halts to gather breath, And now full clearly was it shown (What he before in part had seen) How gaunt was the poor Ass and lean, Yea wasted to a skeleton!

In the editions of 1820-1832, only the second of these stanzas is retained, with the following change of text in 1827:

And, while he halts, was clearly shown (What he before in part had seen) How gaunt the Creature was, and lean,

But, while upon the ground he lay,

That instant, while outstretched he lay,

A loud and piteous bray!

Joy on ...

... an endless shout, The long dry see-saw ...

And Peter now uplifts his eyes; Steady the moon doth look and clear, And like themselves the rocks appear, And tranquil are the skies,

And quiet are the skies.

Whereat, in resolute mood, once more He stoops the Ass's neck to seize— Foul purpose, quickly put to flight! For in the pool a startling sight Meets him, beneath the shadowy trees.

... the gallows ...

Or a gay ring of shining fairies, Such as pursue their brisk vagaries

Is it a party in a parlour? Cramm'd just as they on earth were cramm'd— Some sipping punch, some sipping tea, But, as you by their faces see, All silent and all damn'd!a

A throbbing pulse the Gazer hath— Puzzled he was, and now is daunted;

Like one intent upon a book—

And drops, a senseless weight,

A happy respite!—but he wakes;— And feels the glimmering of the moon— And to stretch forth his hands is trying;— Sure, when he knows where he is lying, He'll sink into a second swoon.

... placid ...

So, faltering not in this intent, He makes his staff an instrument The river's depth to sound—

So toward the stream his head he bent, And downward thrust his staff, intent To reach the Man who there lay drowned.—

The meagre Shadow all this while— What aim is his? ...

That Peter on his back should mount He shows a wish, well as he can, "I'll go, I'll go, whate'er betide— He to his home my way will guide, The cottage of the drowned man."

But no—his purpose and his wish The Suppliant shews, well as he can; Thought Peter whatsoe'er betide I'll go, and he my way will guide To the cottage of the drowned man.

This utter'd, Peter mounts forthwith

This hoping,

Encouraged by this hope, he mounts

This hoping, Peter boldly mounts

The

And takes his way ...

Holding ...

What seeks the boy?—the silent dead!

Seeking for whom?— ...

Whom he hath sought ...

... doth rightly spell;

... noise ...

... to gain his end

... footstep ...

... along a ...

The verdant pathway, in and out, Winds upwards like a straggling chain; And, when two toilsome miles are past, Up through the rocks it leads at last Into a high and open plain.

The ...

How blank!—but whence this rustling sound Which, all too long, the pair hath chased! —A dancing leaf is close behind,

But whence that faintly-rustling sound

But whence this faintly rustling sound By which the pair have long been chased?

When Peter spies the withered leaf, It yields no cure to his distress—

Ha! why this comfortless despair?

... the Creature's head;

... those darting pains, As meteors shoot through heaven's wide plains, Pass through his bosom—and repass!

Reading, as you or I might read At night in any pious book,

... the good man's taper,

The ghostly word, which thus was fram'd,

... full plainly seen,

... to torment the good

I know you, potent Spirits! well, How with the feeling and the sense Playing, ye govern foes or friends. Yok'd to your will, for fearful ends—

... I have often ...

And well I know ...

... and danc'd ...

... clearly ...

... hath ...

... to confound ...

But now the pair have reach'd a spot Where, shelter'd by a rocky cove,

Meanwhile the pair

The building seems, wall, roof, and tower,

Deep sighing as he pass'd along, Quoth Peter, "In the shire of Fife, 'Mid such a ruin, following still From land to land a lawless will,

Making, ...

As if confusing darkness came

And a confusing

While clouds of swimming darkness came Over his eyesight with the sound.

A lonely house her dwelling was,

... her name ...

Distraction reigns in soul and sense, And reason drops in impotence From her deserted pinnacle!

... ears ...

Though clamorous as a hunter's horn Re-echoed from a naked rock, 'Tis from that tabernacle—List!

The voice, though clamorous as a horn Re-echoed by a naked rock, Is from ....

... pious ...

'Tis said, that through prevailing grace

... shoulders scored Meek beast! in memory of the Lord

Faithful memorial of the Lord

In memory of that solemn day

Towards a gate in open view Turns up a narrow lane; ...

Had gone two hundred yards, not more; When to a lonely house he came; He turn'd aside towards the same And stopp'd before the door.

In hope ...

Close at ...

What could he do?—The Woman lay

... the sufferer ...

... stair ...

And to the pillow gives ...

And resting on ...

He turns ...

... his inward grief and fear—

... his sorrow and his fear—

... had ...

Towards ...

... repressed ...

"The moon crescent. Peter Bell begun."

'the sunny seat Round the stone table under the dark pine.'

'At last, the dead man, 'mid that beauteous scene Of trees and hills and water, bolt upright Rose, with his ghastly face, a spectre shape Of terror.'

"I am quite delighted to hear of your picture for Peter Bell .... But remember that no poem of mine will ever be popular, and I am afraid that the sale of Peter would not carry the expense of engraving .... The people would love the poem of Peter Bell, but the public (a very different thing) will never love it."

"Dear Wordsworth—I received a copy of 'Peter Bell' a week ago, and I hope the author will not be offended if I say I do not much relish it. The humour, if it is meant for humour, is forced; and then the price!—sixpence would have been dear for it. Mind, I do not mean your 'Peter Bell', but a Peter Bell, which preceded it about a week, and is in every bookseller's shop window in London, the type and paper nothing differing from the true one, the preface signed W. W., and the supplementary preface quoting, as the author's words, an extract from the supplementary preface to the 'Lyrical Ballads.' Is there no law against these rascals? I would have this Lambert Simnel whipt at the cart's tail."

"And his carcase was cast in the way, and the ass stood by it."

"Mrs. Basil Montagu told me she had no doubt she had suggested this image to Wordsworth by relating to him an anecdote. A person, walking in a friend's garden, looking in at a window, saw a company of ladies at a table near the window, with countenances fixed. In an instant he was aware of their condition, and broke the window. He saved them from incipient suffocation."

1798 Contents Main Contents

LinesA, composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey, on revisiting the Banks of the Wye…

Composed July 1798.—Published 1798

The Poem

... sweet ...

Which ...

... with their unripe fruits, Among the woods and copses lose themselves, Nor, with their green and simple hue, disturb The wild green landscape ...

Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves Among the woods and copses, nor disturb

... Though absent long, These forms of beauty have not been to me,

... inmost mind

As may have had no trivial influence

... wood,

... or ...

Not ...

'And the low copses—coming from the trees.'

'Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very Heaven.'

'And half-create the wondrous world they see.'

Her voice was like a hidden Bird that sang, The thought of her was like a flash of light, Or an unseen companionship.

1798 Contents Main Contents

There was a Boy

Composed 1798.—Published 1800

The Poem

... when the stars had just begun

... a wild scene Of mirth and jocund din! ...

... concourse wild

... And, when it chanced That pauses of deep silence mock'd his skill,

... and, when a lengthened pause Of silence came and baffled his best skill,

... ere he was ten years old.

Fair are the woods, and beauteous is the spot, The vale where he was born: the Church-yard hangs

Fair is the spot, most beautiful the Vale Where he was born: the grassy Church-yard hangs

And there along that bank when I have pass'd At evening, I believe, that near his grave

... I believe, that oftentimes

And through that Church-yard when my way has led

A full half-hour together I have stood, Mute—for he died when he was ten years old.

Mute—looking at the grave in which he lies.

"The blank lines gave me as much direct pleasure as was possible in the general bustle of pleasure with which I received and read your letter. I observed, I remember, that the 'fingers woven,' etc., only puzzled me; and though I liked the twelve or fourteen first lines very well, yet I liked the remainder much better. Well, now I have read them again, they are very beautiful, and leave an affecting impression. That 'uncertain heaven received Into the bosom of the steady lake,' I should have recognised anywhere; and had I met these lines, running wild in the deserts of Arabia, I should have instantly screamed out 'Wordsworth'!"

'Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth,'

1798 Contents Main Contents

The Two Thieves; or, the Last Stage of Avarice

Composed 1798.—Published 1800

The Poem

Oh! now that the boxwood and graver were mine, Of the Poet who lives on the banks of the Tyne, Who has plied his rude tools with more fortunate toil Than Reynolds e'er brought to his canvas and oil.

Then Books, and Book-learning, I'd ring out your knell, The Vicar should scarce know an A from an L.

Little Dan is unbreech'd, he is three birth-days old,

... a-stealing ...

... of peats ...

Dan once ...

'Twas a smooth pleasant pathway, a gentle descent, And leisurely down it, and down it, he went.

... street ...

... is both leader and led;

For grey-headed Dan ...

The grey-headed Sire ...

"that delicacy towards aberrations from the strict path, which is so fine in the 'Old Thief and the Boy by his side,' which always brings water into my eyes."

1798 Contents Main Contents

Written with a Slate Pencil upon a Stone, the largest of a Heap lying near a Deserted…

Composed 1798.—Published 1800

The Poem

Is not a ruin of the ancient time,

... antique ...

... which was to have been built

Of some old British warrior: so, to speak The honest truth, 'tis neither more nor less Than the rude germ of what was to have been A pleasure-house, and built upon this isle.

... the Knight forthwith

Of the ...

Bred here, and to this valley appertained

... glory, ...

"objections to white, as a colour, in large spots or masses in landscape,"

1798 Contents Main Contents

Wordsworth's Poetical Works, Volume 2: 1799

Table of Contents

1799

1799 Contents Main Contents

Influence of Natural Objects in calling forth and strengthening the Imagination in…

Composed 1799.—Published 1809

The Poem

That givest ...

Nor ...

... valley ...

... I homeward went

'Twas mine among the fields ...

... blazed through twilight gloom,

... to me

... car'd not for its home— ...

... cares not ...

... loud bellowing ...

Meanwhile ...

... while the distant hills

To cut across the image ...

To cross the bright reflection ...

That gleam'd upon the ice; and oftentimes

That fled, and, flying still before me, gleamed Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes,

... as a dreamless sleep.

1799 Contents Main Contents

The Simplon PassA

Composed 1799.—Published 1845

The Poem

... gloomy strait,

... pace ...

1799 Contents Main Contents

Nutting

Composed 1799.—Published 1800

The Poem

... which ...

When forth I sallied from our cottage-door,

And with a wallet o'er my shoulder slung,

With a huge wallet o'er my shoulder slung,

... I turn'd ...

Towards the distant woods, ...

Toward ...

... of Beggar's weeds Put on for the occasion, by advice And exhortation ...

... Among the woods, And o'er the pathless rocks, I forc'd my way Until, at length, I came ...

... milk-white clusters ...

... beneath ...

Even then, when from the bower I turn'd away,

... and the intruding sky.—

1799 Contents Main Contents