+. * ****

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH (1770-1850) .

DEAR NATIVE REGIONS*

Dear native regions, I foretell,
From what I feel at this farewell,
That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend,
And whensoe'er my course shall end,
If in that hour a single tie
Survive of local sympathy,
My soul will cast the backward view,
The longing look alone on you.

Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest
Far in the regions of the west,
Though to the vale no parting beam
Be given, not one memorial gleam,
A lingering light he fondly throws
On the dear hills where first he rose.

WE ARE SEVENt

—A simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

or,

{\met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head. 8

*Wordsworth thought it worth while to print this “extract from the conclusion of a poem.” which was written, at the age of sixteen. "just before he left his school at Hawkshead. t both reveals his strong local attachment and * his reliance upon what became for him a chief source of poetic inspiration, namely, “emotion recollected tranquillity.” othis, and the two poems that follow it, were among , those contributed by Wordsworth to the joint volume of Lyrical Ballads which he and Coleridge, published in 1798 (see p. 428; also Eng. Lit., pp. 232-235). This poem was , written to show “the obscurity and perplexity which in childhood attend our notion of death, or rather our utter inability to admit that notion.”

in

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She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
—Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?”
“How many? Seven in all,” she said

And wondering looked at me. 16

“And where are they?...I pray you tell.”
She answered, “Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And in the church-yard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother.” 24

“You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.
Yet ye are seven!—I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply, “Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the church-yard lie,

Beneath the church-yard tree.” 32

“You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”
The little Maid replied,
“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,
And they are side by side. 40

“My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

“And often after sunset, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there. 48