The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume Ii Part 39

The text of 1815 returns to that of 1800.]

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: Compare Gray's ode, 'On a Distant Prospect of Eton College', II. 38-9:

'Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind.'

Ed.]

RUTH

Composed 1799.--Published 1800

[Written in Germany, 1799. Suggested by an account I had of a wanderer in Somersets.h.i.+re.--I.F.]

Cla.s.sed among the "Poems founded on the Affections" in the editions of 1815 and 1820. In 1827 it was transferred to the "Poems of the Imagination."--Ed.

When Ruth was left half desolate, Her Father took another Mate; And Ruth, not seven years old, A slighted child, at her own will [1]

Went wandering over dale and hill, 5 In thoughtless freedom, bold.

And she had made a pipe of straw, And music from that pipe could draw Like sounds of winds and floods; [2]

Had built a bower upon the green, 10 As if she from her birth had been An infant of the woods.

Beneath her father's roof, alone [3]

She seemed to live; her thoughts her own; Herself her own delight; 15 Pleased with herself, nor sad, nor gay; And, pa.s.sing thus the live-long day, She grew to woman's height. [4]

There came a Youth from Georgia's sh.o.r.e-- A military casque he wore, 20 With splendid feathers drest; [A]

He brought them from the Cherokees; The feathers nodded in the breeze, And made a gallant crest.

From Indian blood you deem him sprung: 25 But no! [5] he spake the English tongue, And bore [6] a soldier's name; And, when America was free From battle and from jeopardy, He 'cross the ocean came. 30

With hues of genius on his cheek In finest tones the Youth could speak: --While he was yet a boy, The moon, the glory of the sun, And streams that murmur as they run, 35 Had been his dearest joy.

He was a lovely Youth! I guess The panther in the wilderness Was not so fair as he; And, when he chose to sport and play, 40 No dolphin ever was so gay Upon the tropic sea.

Among the Indians he had fought, And with him many tales he brought Of pleasure and of fear; 45 Such tales as told to any maid By such a Youth, in the green shade, Were perilous to hear.

He told of girls--a happy rout!

Who quit their fold with dance and shout, 50 Their pleasant Indian town, To gather strawberries all day long; Returning with a choral song When daylight is gone down.

He spake of plants that hourly change 55 Their blossoms, through a boundless range Of intermingling hues; [7] [B]

With budding, fading, faded flowers They stand the wonder of the bowers From morn to evening dews, [C] 60 [8]

He told of the magnolia, [D] spread High as a cloud, high over head!

The cypress and her spire; [E]

--Of flowers [F] that with one scarlet gleam Cover a hundred leagues, and seem 65 To set the hills on fire. [G]

The Youth of green savannahs spake, And many an endless, endless lake, With all its fairy crowds Of islands, that together lie 70 As quietly as spots of sky Among the evening clouds. [H]

"How pleasant," then he said, "it were [9]

A fisher or a hunter there, In suns.h.i.+ne or in shade 75 To wander with an easy mind; And build a household fire, and find [10]

A home in every glade!

"What days and what bright [11] years! Ah me!

Our life were life indeed, with thee 80 So pa.s.sed in quiet bliss, And all the while," said he, "to know That we were in a world of woe, On such an earth as this!"

And then he sometimes interwove 85 Fond [12] thoughts about a father's love: "For there," said he, "are spun Around the heart such tender ties, That our own children to our eyes Are dearer than the sun. 90

"Sweet Ruth! and could you go with me My helpmate in the woods to be, Our shed at night to rear; Or run, my own adopted bride, A sylvan huntress at my side, 95 And drive the flying deer!

"Beloved Ruth!"--No more he said.

The wakeful Ruth at midnight shed [13]

A solitary tear: She thought again--and did agree 100 With him to sail across the sea, And drive the flying deer.

"And now, as fitting is and right, We in the church our faith will plight, A husband and a wife." 105 Even so they did; and I may say That to sweet Ruth that happy day Was more than human life.

Through dream and vision did she sink, Delighted all the while to think 110 That on those lonesome floods, And green savannahs, she should share His board with lawful joy, and bear His name in the wild woods.

But, as you have before been told, 115 This Stripling, sportive, gay, and bold, And, with his dancing crest, So beautiful, through savage lands Had roamed about, with vagrant bands Of Indians in the West. 120

The wind, the tempest roaring high, The tumult of a tropic sky, Might well be dangerous food For him, a Youth to whom was given So much of earth--so much of heaven, 125 And such impetuous blood.

Whatever in those climes he found Irregular in sight or sound Did to his mind impart A kindred impulse, seemed allied 130 To his own powers, and justified The workings of his heart.

Nor less, to feed voluptuous [14] thought, The beauteous forms of nature wrought, Fair trees and gorgeous [15] flowers; 135 The breezes their own languor lent; The stars had feelings, which they sent Into those favored [16] bowers.

Yet, in his worst pursuits, I ween That sometimes [17] there did intervene 140 Pure hopes of high intent: For pa.s.sions linked to forms so fair And stately, needs must have their share [18]

Of n.o.ble sentiment.