3 STEPPING WESTWARD .

5 THE MATRON OF JEDBOROUGH AND HER HUSBAND .

1 TO A BUTTERFLY .

10 GIPSIES .

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

Title: Poems In Two Volumes, Vol. 2

Author: William Wordsworth

Edition: 10

Language: English

    Posterius graviore sono tibi Musa loquetur
    Nostra: dabunt cum securos mihi tempora fructus.

CONTENTS.

POEMS WRITTEN DURING A TOUR IN SCOTLAND.

1. Rob Roy's Grave 2. The solitary Reaper 3. Stepping Westward 4. Glen-Almain, or the Narrow Glen 5. The Matron of Jedborough and her Husband 6. To a Highland Girl 7. Sonnet 8. Address to the Sons of Burns after visiting their Father's Grave, Aug. 14th, 1803 9. Yarrow unvisited

MOODS OF MY OWN MIND.

1. To a Butterfly 2. 3. 4. 5. Written in March while resting on the Bridge at the Foot of Brother's Water 6. The small Celandine 7. 8. 9. The Sparrow's Nest 10. Gipsies 11. To the Cuckoo 12. To a Butterfly 13.

THE BLIND HIGHLAND BOY.

The Blind Highland Boy
The Green Linnet
To a Young Lady, who had been reproached
for taking long Walks in the Country
By their floating Mill, &c
Star-gazers
Power of Music
To the Daisy
To the same Flower
Incident, characteristic of a favourite Dog,
which belonged to a Friend of the Author
Tribute to the Memory of the same Dog

Sonnet
Sonnet
Sonnet
Sonnet to Thomas Clarkson
Once in a lonely Hamlet, &c
Foresight, or the Charge of a Child to his
younger Companion
A Complaint
I am not One, &c
Yes! full surely 'twas the Echo, &c
To the Spade of a Friend
Song, at the Feast of Brougham Castle
Lines, composed at Grasmere
Elegaic Stanzas
Ode
Notes

POEMS WRITTEN DURING A TOUR IN SCOTLAND.

ROB ROY's GRAVE.

  The History of Rob Roy is sufficiently known; his Grave
    is near the head of Loch Ketterine, in one of those small
    Pin-fold-like Burial-grounds, of neglected and desolate
    appearance, which the Traveller meets with in the
    Highlands of Scotland.

  A famous Man is Robin Hood,
  The English Ballad-singer's joy!
  And Scotland has a Thief as good,
  An Outlaw of as daring mood,
  She has her brave ROB ROY!
  Then clear the weeds from off his Grave,
  And let us chaunt a passing Stave
  In honour of that Hero brave!

  Heaven gave Rob Roy a dauntless heart,
  And wondrous length and strength of arm: 10
  Nor craved he more to quell his Foes,
  Or keep his Friends from harm.

  Yet was Rob Roy as wise as brave;
  Forgive me if the phrase be strong;—
  Poet worthy of Rob Roy
  Must scorn a timid song.

  Say, then, that he was wise as brave;
  As wise in thought as bold in deed:
  For in the principles of things
  He sought his moral creed. 20

  Said generous Rob, "What need of Books?
  Burn all the Statutes and their shelves:
  They stir us up against our Kind;
  And worse, against Ourselves."

  "We have a passion, make a law,
  Too false to guide us or controul!
  And for the law itself we fight
  In bitterness of soul."

  "And, puzzled, blinded thus, we lose
  Distinctions that are plain and few: 30
  These find I graven on my heart:
  That tells me what to do."

  "The Creatures see of flood and field,
  And those that travel on the wind!
  With them no strife can last; they live
  In peace, and peace of mind."

  "For why?—because the good old Rule
  Sufficeth them, the simple Plan,
  That they should take who have the power,
  And they should keep who can." 40

  "A lesson which is quickly learn'd,
  A signal this which all can see!
  Thus nothing here provokes the Strong
  To wanton cruelty."

  "All freakishness of mind is check'd;
  He tam'd, who foolishly aspires;
  While to the measure of his might
  Each fashions his desires."

  "All Kinds, and Creatures, stand and fall
  By strength of prowess or of wit: 50
  Tis God's appointment who must sway,
  And who is to submit."

  "Since then," said Robin, "right is plain,
  And longest life is but a day;
  To have my ends, maintain my rights,
  I'll take the shortest way."

  And thus among these rocks he liv'd,
  Through summer's heat and winter's snow:
  The Eagle, he was Lord above,
  And Rob was Lord below. 60

  So was it—would, at least, have been
  But through untowardness of fate:
  For Polity was then too strong;
  He came an age too late,

  Or shall we say an age too soon?
  For, were the bold Man living now,
  How might he flourish in his pride,
  With buds on every bough!

  Then rents and Factors, rights of chace,
  Sheriffs, and Lairds and their domains 70
  Would all have seem'd but paltry things,
  Not worth a moment's pains.

  Rob Roy had never linger'd here,
  To these few meagre Vales confin'd;
  But thought how wide the world, the times
  How fairly to his mind!

  And to his Sword he would have said,
  "Do Thou my sovereign will enact
  From land to land through half the earth!
  Judge thou of law and fact!" 80

  "Tis fit that we should do our part;
  Becoming, that mankind should learn
  That we are not to be surpass'd
  In fatherly concern."

  "Of old things all are over old,
  Of good things none are good enough:—
  We'll shew that we can help to frame
  A world of other stuff."

  "I, too, will have my Kings that take
  From me the sign of life and death: 90
  Kingdoms shall shift about, like clouds,
  Obedient to my breath."

  And, if the word had been fulfill'd,
  As might have been, then, thought of joy!
  France would have had her present Boast;
  And we our brave Rob Roy!

  Oh! say not so; compare them not;
  I would not wrong thee, Champion brave!
  Would wrong thee no where; least of all
  Here standing by thy Grave. 100

  For Thou, although with some wild thoughts,
  Wild Chieftain of a Savage Clan!
  Hadst this to boast of; thou didst love
  The liberty of Man.

  And, had it been thy lot to live
  With us who now behold the light,
  Thou would'st have nobly stirr'd thyself,
  And battled for the Right.

  For Robin was the poor Man's stay
  The poor man's heart, the poor man's hand; 110
  And all the oppress'd, who wanted strength,
  Had Robin's to command.

  Bear witness many a pensive sigh
  Of thoughtful Herdsman when he strays
  Alone upon Loch Veol's Heights,
  And by Loch Lomond's Braes!

  And, far and near, through vale and hill,
  Are faces that attest the same;
  And kindle, like a fire new stirr'd,
  At sound of ROB ROY's name. 120

2. THE SOLITARY REAPER.

  Behold her, single in the field,
  Yon solitary Highland Lass!
  Reaping and singing by herself;
  Stop here, or gently pass!
  Alone she cuts, and binds the grain,
  And sings a melancholy strain;
  O listen! for the Vale profound
  Is overflowing with the sound.

  No Nightingale did ever chaunt
  So sweetly to reposing bands 10
  Of Travellers in some shady haunt,
  Among Arabian Sands:
  No sweeter voice was ever heard
  In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
  Breaking the silence of the seas
  Among the farthest Hebrides.

  Will no one tell me what she sings?
  Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
  For old, unhappy, far-off things,
  And battles long ago: 20
  Or is it some more humble lay,
  Familiar matter of today?
  Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
  That has been, and may be again!

  Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sung
  As if her song could have no ending;
  I saw her singing at her work,
  And o'er the sickle bending;
  I listen'd till I had my fill;
  And, as I mounted up the hill, 30
  The music in my heart I bore,
  Long after it was heard no more.