Helen Darbishire's Transcription of MS JJ
(The Prelude Rev. ed., 1959)
|
Last page Z recto
|
|
Was it for this |
|
That one, the fairest of all rivers loved |
|
To blend his murmurs with my nurse’s song |
|
And from his alder shades and rocky falls |
|
And from his fords and shallows sent a voice |
|
To intertwine my dreams, for this didst thou |
|
O Derwent travelling over the green plains |
|
[Give ceaseless music to the] |
|
Near my sweet birthplace [to the night & day] |
|
didst thou beauteous stream |
|
Give ceaseless music to the night & day |
|
Which with its steady cadence tempering |
|
Our human waywardness compose(d) my thought |
|
To more than infant softness giving me |
|
Amid the fretful [tenements of man] dwellings of mankind |
|
A knowledge, a dim earnest of the calm |
|
That Nature breathes among her woodland [haunts?] |
|
Was it for this [for these perhaps] & now I speak of things |
|
[That have been & that are, no gentle (dreams?)] |
|
Complacent fashioned fondly to adorn |
|
The time [years] of unrememberable being |
|
Was it for this that I a four years child |
|
[Beneath thy scars & in] A naked boy among thy silent pools |
|
Made one long bathing of a summers day |
|
Basked in the sun or plunged into thy stream |
|
Alternate all a summers day, or coursd |
|
Over the sandy [plains] fields & dashed the flowers |
|
Of yellow grundsel or when the hill tops |
|
The woods & all the [distant] glorious mountains |
|
Were bronzed with a deep radiance stood alone |
|
A naked savage in the thunder shower |
|
[For this] Nor less in springtime when on southern banks |
|
The shining sun had from [his] its knot of leaves |
|
Decoyed the primrose flower and when the vales |
|
And woods were warm was I a rover then |
|
In the high places, on the [lonely] lonesome peaks |
|
Among the mountains & the winds. Though mean |
|
And though inglorious were my views the end |
|
Was not ignoble. Oh when I have hung |
|
Above the ravens nest, have hung alone |
|
By half inch fissures in the slippery rock |
|
But ill sustained and almost as it seemed |
|
Suspended by the [wind] blast which blew amain |
|
[Against] Shouldering the naked cragg ah then |
|
X verso |
|
With what strange utterance did the [loud dry] wind |
|
Blow through my ears |
|
the colours of the sky |
|
the sky was [then no sky?] |
|
Of earth & with what motion move[d] the cloud[s] |
|
As on the perilous [brink] cliff |
|
While on the perilous [edge] [ridge] cliff I hung alone |
|
With what strange utterance did the loud dry wind |
|
Blow through my ears the sky seemd not a sky |
|
Of earth, and with what motion moved the clouds |
|
Ah not in vain ye beings of the hills |
|
And ye that walk the woods and open heaths |
|
By moon or starlight thus from my first dawn |
|
Of childhood did ye love to interweave |
|
The passions |
|
Not with the mean & vullgar works of man |
|
But with high objects with eternal things |
|
With life & nature, purifying thus |
|
The elements of feeling & of thought |
|
Y recto |
|
And sanctifying by such discipline |
|
Both pain & fear untill we recognize |
|
A grandeur in the beatings of the heart. |
|
Ah! not [in vain] for this ye spirits of the springs |
|
{familiars of the clouds } |
|
And ye that are {have your voices in the clouds} |
|
Through pleasant da(ys?) |
|
Through snow & sunshine & through rain & storm |
|
Did ye with such assiduous love pursue |
|
Your favourite & your joy did ye delight |
|
[Thus by the agency of boyish sports |
|
To fix upon the streams the woods the hills |
|
To fix upon all forms the character |
|
Of danger & desire & so to [make?] |
|
The surface of the universal earth |
|
With meanings of delight of home and fear |
|
[Nor belike a] |
|
A vullgar hope was yours when [ye employed] |
|
Such ministry not vainly for ye [know?] |
|
W recto |
|
The mountains & the fluctuating hills |
|
Ye powers of earth |
|
Ah not in vain ye spirits of the springs |
|
And ye that have your voices in the clouds |
|
And ye that are familiars of the lakes |
|
And standing pools, ah not for trivial ends |
|
Through snow & sunshine & through [rain and storm] |
|
the sparkling plains |
|
Of moonlight frost and through the stormy [day?] |
|
Did ye with such assiduous love pursue |
|
W verso |
|
Your favourite and your joy. |
|
I may not think |
|
A vulgar hope was your’s when ye employed |
|
Such ministry when ye through many a year |
|
Thus by the agency of boyish sports |
|
[Impressd upon the streams the woods the hills |
|
Impressed upon all forms the character |
|
Of danger or desire and thus did make |
|
The surface of the universal earth |
|
With meanings of delight of hope & fear |
|
Work like a sea. – |
|
For this when on the witherd mountain slope |
|
The frost and breath of frosty wind had snapped |
|
The last autumnal crocus did I love |
|
To range [wander] through half the night among the cliffs |
|
And the smooth hollows where the woodcocks ran |
|
Along the moonlight turf. In thought and wish |
|
That time my shoulder all with springes hung |
|
I was a fell destroyer |
|
Gentle powers, |
|
Who give us happiness, & call it peace |
|
X recto |
|
When [running] scudding on from snare to snare I plied |
|
My anxious visitation hurrying on |
|
Still hurrying hurrying onward, how my heart |
|
panted: among the lonely eugh trees & the crags |
|
That looked upon me how my bosom beat |
|
With hope & fear [expectation]. And sometimes strong desire |
|
Resistless over came me & the bird |
|
Th[at] was the captive of another’s toils |
|
Became my prey, and [then] [when the deed] I heard |
|
I heard among the solitary hills |
|
Low breathings coming after me and sounds |
|
Of undistinguishable motion steps |
|
Almost as silent as the turf they trod |
|
94 |
|
U recto |
|
Nor while, thou(gh) doubting yet not lost I tread |
|
The mazes of this argument, and paint |
|
How Nature by collateral interest |
|
And by extrinsic passion peopled first |
|
My mind with beauteous objects may I well |
|
Forget what might demand a loftier song |
|
For oft th'eternal spirit, he that has |
|
His life in unimaginable things |
|
And he who painting what he is in all |
|
The visible imagery of all the worlds |
|
Is yet apparent chiefly as the soul |
|
Of our first sympathies – Oh bounteous power |
|
In childhood, in rememberable days |
|
How often did thy love renew for me |
|
Those naked feelings which when thou wouldst form |
|
A living thing thou sendest like a breeze |
|
Into its infant being. Soul of things |
|
U verso |
|
How often did thy love renew for me |
|
Those hallowed & pure motions of the sense |
|
Which seem in their simplicity to own |
|
An intellectual charm: that calm delight |
|
Which if I err not surely must belong |
|
To those first born affinities which fit |
|
Our new existence to existing things |
|
And in our dawn of being constitute |
|
The bond of union betwixt life & joy. |
|
Yes, I remember when the changeful earth |
|
And twice five seasons on my mind had stamped |
|
The faces of the [changeful] moving year, even then, |
|
A child I held unconscious intercourse |
|
With the eternal beauty drinking in |
|
A pure organic pleasure from the lines |
|
Of curling mist or from the smooth expanse |
|
Of waters coloured by the [cloudless moon] clouds of heaven |
|
V recto |
|
The sands of Westmorland the creeks & bays |
|
Of Cumbria’s rocky limits they can tell |
|
How when the sea threw off his evening shade |
|
And to the shepherds hut beneath the craggs |
|
Did send sweet notice of the rising moon |
|
How I have stood to images like these |
|
A stranger linking with the spectacle |
|
No body of associated forms . . . |
|
And bearing with [me?] no peculiar sense |
|
Of quietness or peace yet I have stood |
|
Even while my eye has moved o'er three long leagues |
|
Of shining water, gathering as it seemed |
|
[ ] |
|
New pleasure like a bee among the flowers – |
|
Nor unsubservient even to noblest ends |
|
Are these primordial feelings how serene |
|
How calm those seem amid the swell |
|
Of human passion even yet I feel |
|
Their tranquillizing power |
|
Margin of U verso |
|
for often-times |
|
In that tempestuous season I have felt |
|
Even in that [ blank left] & tempestuous time |
|
Margin of U recto |
|
How while I ran wher'eer the (working?) heat |
|
Of passion drove me at that thoughtless time |
|
A power unknown would open out the clouds |
|
As with the touch of lightning seeking me |
|
With gentle visitation [then unknown?] |
|
T verso |
|
Nor in that thoughtless season [ ? ] |
|
That [purer] other pleasures have been mine |
|
And joys of purer origin for oft |
|
[While?] thus I wander'd doubting |
|
Yes there are genii which when they would form |
|
[A favour'd spirit] open out the clouds |
|
As with the touch of lightning seeking him |
|
With gentle visitation. Others use |
|
[Less homely?] interference ministry |
|
Of grosser kind & of their school was I |
|
Though haply aiming at the selfsame end |
|
And made me love them |
|
S verso |
|
I went alone into a shepherd’s boat |
|
A skiff which to a willow tree was tied |
|
With [ blank left ] it(s) usual home |
|
The moon was up the lake was shining clear |
|
Among the hoary mountains: from the shore |
|
I push'd and struck the oars and struck again |
|
In cadence and my little boat moved on |
|
Just like a man who walks with stately step |
|
Though bent on speed. A rocky steep uprose |
|
Above the cavern of the willow-tree |
|
[so as fitted?] |
|
And as beseemed a man who proudly rowed |
|
With his best speed I fixd a steady view |
|
Upon the top of that same shaggy ridge |
|
The bound of the horizon for behind |
|
Was nothing but the stars & the grey sky. |
|
She was an elfin pinnace, twenty times |
|
I dipp'd my oars into the silent lake |
|
And (as) I rose upon the stroke my boat |
|
Went heaving through the water like a swan |
|
It was an act of stealth |
|
And troubled pleasure not without the voice |
|
Of mountain echoes did my boat move on |
|
Leaving behind (her) still on either side |
|
Small circles glittering idly in the moon |
|
Until they melted all into one track |
|
T recto |
|
Of sparkling light |
|
When from behind that rocky steep till then |
|
The bound of the horizon just between |
|
The summit & the stars a huge high cliff |
|
As if with voluntary power instinct |
|
Upreared its head I struck & struck again |
|
And growing still (in) stature the huge (cliff) |
|
Rose up between me and the stars & still |
|
With measured motion like a living thing |
|
Strode after (me) |
|
Rose up between me & the stars & still |
|
With measured motion like a living thing |
|
Strode after me. Unusual was the power |
|
Of that strange spectacle for many days |
|
There was a darkness in my thoughts no show |
|
Of usual objects images of trees |
|
Of sea or sky no colours of green fields |
|
But huge and mighty forms that do not live |
|
Like living men [ blank left ] |
|
By day and were the trouble of my dreams |
|
Working with an undetermined sense |
|
Of unknown modes of being |
|
and [ as before?] the solitary cliff |
|
Rose up between me & the |
|
T verso |
|
with trembling hands I turn'd |
|
And through the silent water stole my way |
|
Back to the cavern of the willow |
|
And to my [ age] in |
|
S recto |
|
There was a boy ye knew him well, ye rocks |
|
And islands of Winander & ye green |
|
Peninsulas of Esthwaite many a time |
|
when the stars began |
|
To move along the edges of the hills |
|
Rising or setting would he stand alone |
|
Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake |
|
And through his fingers woven in one close knot |
|
Blow mimic hootings to the silent owls |
|
And bid them answer him. And they would shou |
|
Across the watry vale and shout again |
|
Responsive to my call with tremulous sobs |
|
And long halloes & screams & echoes loud |
|
Redoubled & redoubled a wild scene |
|
Of mirth & jocund din. And when it chanced |
|
That pauses of deep silence mocked my skill |
|
Then often, in that silence, while I hung |
|
Listening a sudden shock of mild surprize |
|
Would carry far into my heart the voice |
|
Of mountain torrents: or the visible scene |
|
Would enter unawares into my mind |
|
With all its solemn imagery its rocks |
|
Its woods & that uncertain heaven received |
|
Into the bosom of the steady lake |
|
R verso |
|
When from behind that rocky steep, till then |
|
The bound of the horizon a huge cliff |
|
As if with voluntary power instinct |
|
Uprear'd its head. I struck & struck again |
|
And growing still in stature the huge cliff |
|
Rose up between me and the stars & still |
|
With measured motion like a living thing |
|
Strode after me. With trembling hands I turn'd |
|
And through the silent water stole my way |
|
Back to the willow tree, the mooring place |
|
Of my small [boat] pinnace |
|
{A most unusual power} |
|
{Had} {Unusual was the power} |
|
{Of } that strange sight for many days my brain |
|
Workd with a dim and undetermind sense |
|
Of unknown modes of being in my thought |
|
There was a darkness call it solitude [vacancy] |
|
Or blank desertion no familiar shapes |
|
Of hourly objects images of trees |
|
Of sea or sky no colours of green fields |
|
But huge & mighty forms that do not live |
|
Like living men moved slowly through my mind |
|
By day and were the trouble of my dreams |
|
And straightway through [ ] I went |
|
Though fearless with a grave & serious [mind?] |
|
R recto |
|
The soul of man is fashioned & built up |
|
Just like a strain of music I believe |
|
That there are spirits which when they would form |
|
A favor'd being open out the clouds |
|
As at the touch of lightning |
|
Seeking him with gentle visitation and with such |
|
Though rarely in my wanderings I have held |
|
Communion. Others too there are who use |
|
Yet haply aiming at the selfsame end |
|
Severer interventions, ministry |
|
Of grosser kind, & of their school was I |
|
And oft when on the withered mountain slope |
|
The frost & breath |
|
I have held |
|
Communion with them in my boyish [days?] |
|
Though rarely |
|
P verso |
|
I would not strike a flower |
|
As many a man [would] will strike his horse; at least |
|
If from the wantonness in which we play |
|
With things we love, or from a freak of [power] thought |
|
Or from involuntary act of hand |
|
Or foot unruly with excess of life |
|
It eer should chance that I ungently used |
|
A tuft of [ left blank ] or snapp'd the stem |
|
Of foxglove bending oer his native rill |
|
I should be loth to pass along my road |
|
With unreproved indifference. I would stop |
|
Self questioned, asking wherefor that was done |
|
For seeing little worthy or sublime |
|
In what we blazon with the names [of power |
|
And action] I was early taught to love. |
|
Of power & action I was early taught |
|
Q recto |
|
To love those unassuming things that [occupy?] hold |
|
A silent station in this beauteous world |
|
let [all things have] each thing have |
|
[Their lot of life] Its little lot of life but more than all |
|
The things that live in [?] |
|
Then dearest maiden on whose lap I rest |
|
My head [ ] do not deem that these |
|
Are idle sympathies – |
|
Q verso |
|
Those beauteous colours of my [our] early years [time] |
|
Which make the starting-place of being fair |
|
And worthy of the goal to which they tend |
|
Those hours that cannot die [those] and lovely forms |
|
And sweet sensations which throw back our life |
|
And make our infancy a visible scene |
|
On which the sun is shining |
|
Those recollect(ed) hours that have the charm |
|
Of visionary things – |
|
[ ] islands in the unnavigable depth |
|
Of our departed time |
|
Z verso |
|
[ a gentle inspiration] a mild creative breeze |
|
A vital breeze that passes gently on |
|
Oer things which it hath made and soon becomes |
|
A tempest a redundant energy |
|
That sweeps the waters and the [ ] this power |
|
Creating not but as it may |
|
disturbing things created |
|
a storm not terrible but strong |
|
With lights and shades and with a rushing (power?) |
|
With loveliness and power |
|
trances of thought |
|
And mountings of the mind compared to which |
|
The wind that drives along th' autumnal [leaf?] |
|
Is meekness |
|
what there is |
|
Of subtler feeling of remembered joy |
|
Of soul & spirit in departed sound |
|
That cannot be remembered |
|
a plain of leaves |
|
Whose matted surface spreads for many leagues |
|
A level prospect such as shepherds view |
|
From some high promontory when the sea |
|
Flames, & the sun is setting. |
|
familiars of the lakes & standing [ ] |
|
On the inside of the cover of the book |
|
How often in the silence of the woods |
|
The mountains & the fluctuating hills. |
