Wordsworth

The Prelude, 1805. From Book Sixth: Cambridge and the Alps

The Crossing of the Alps; supplements Broadview extract (282-283)

From The Prelude 1799, 1805, 1850, ed. Wordsworth, Abrams, and Gill (Norton, 1979). Line numbers to the right correspond to 1850 version; line numbers to the left refer to the 1805 version reproduced here. Page numbers given in brackets refer to the Norton edition.

{P 212} 
          'Tis not my present purpose to retrace
        That variegated journey step by step;  [490]
        A march it was of military speed,
        And earth did change her images and forms
{L 430} Before us fast as clouds are changed in heaven.
        Day after day, up early and down late,
        From vale to vale, from hill to hill we went,  [495]
        From province on to province did we pass,
        Keen hunters in a chace of fourteen weeks -- 
{L 435} Eager as birds of prey, or as a ship
        Upon the stretch when winds are blowing fair.
        Sweet coverts did we cross of pastoral life,  [500]
        Enticing vallies -- greeted them, and left
        Too soon, while yet the very flash and gleam
{L 440} Of salutation were not passed away.
        Oh, sorrow for the youth who could have seen
        Unchastened, unsubdued, unawed, unraised  [505]
        To patriarchal dignity of mind
        And pure simplicity of wish and will,
{L 445} Those sanctified abodes of peaceful man.  [508]
        My heart leaped up when first I did look down
        On that which was first seen of those deep haunts,
        A green recess, an aboriginal vale,
        Quiet, and lorded over and possessed  [510]
{L 450} By naked huts, wood-built, and sown like tents
        Or Indian cabins over the fresh lawns
        And by the river-side.
        
                               That day we first
        Beheld the summit of Mount Blanc, and grieved  [515]
        To have a soulless image on the eye
{L 455} Which had usurped upon a living thought
        That never more could be. The wondrous Vale
        Of Chamouny did, on the following dawn,
        With its dumb cataracts and streams of ice --   [530]
        A motionless array of mighty waves,
{L 460} Five rivers broad and vast -- make rich amends,
        And reconciled us to realities.
{P 214} 
        There small birds warble from the leafy trees,
        The eagle soareth in the element,  [535]
        There doth the reaper bind the yellow sheaf,
{L 465} The maiden spread the haycock in the sun,
        While Winter like a tamed lion walks,
        Descending from the mountain to make sport
        Among the cottages by beds of flowers.  [540]
        
          Whate'er in this wide circuit we beheld
{L 470} Or heard was fitted to our unripe state
        Of intellect and heart. By simple strains
        Of feeling, the pure breath of real life,
        We were not left untouched. With such a book
        Before our eyes we could not chuse but read
{L 475} A frequent lesson of sound tenderness,  [545]
        The universal reason of mankind,
        The truth of young and old. Nor, side by side
        Pacing, two brother pilgrims, or alone
{L 480} Each with his humour, could we fail to abound --
        Craft this which hath been hinted at before
        In dreams and fictions pensively composed:  [550]
        Dejection taken up for pleasure's sake,
        And gilded sympathies, the willow wreath,
        Even among those solitudes sublime,
{L 485} And sober posies of funereal flowers,
        Culled from the gardens of the Lady Sorrow,  [555]
        Did sweeten many a meditative hour.
        
          Yet still in me, mingling with these delights,
        Was something of stern mood, an under-thirst
{L 490} Of vigour, never utterly asleep.  [559]
        Far different dejection once was mine -- 
        A deep and genuine sadness then I felt -- 
        The circumstances I will here relate
        Even as they were. Upturning with a band
{L 495} Of travellers, from the Valais we had clomb
        Along the road that leads to Italy;
        A length of hours, making of these our guides,
        Did we advance, and, having reached an inn
        Among the mountains, we together ate  [565]
{L 500} Our noon's repast, from which the travellers rose
        Leaving us at the board. Erelong we followed,
        Descending by the beaten road that led
        Right to a rivulet's edge, and there broke off;
        The only track now visible was one  [570]
{P 216} 
{L 505} Upon the further side, right opposite,
        And up a lofty mountain. This we took,
        After a little scruple and short pause,
        And climbed with eagerness -- though not, at length,  [575]
        Without surprize and some anxiety
{L 510} On finding that we did not overtake
        Our comrades gone before. By fortunate chance,
        While every moment now encreased our doubts,
        A peasant met us, and from him we learned
        That to the place which had perplexed us first  [580]
{L 515} We must descend, and there should find the road
        Which in the stony channel of the stream
        Lay a few steps, and then along its banks -- 
        And further, that thenceforward all our course
        Was downwards with the current of that stream.  [585]
{L 520} Hard of belief, we questioned him again,
        And all the answers which the man returned
        To our inquiries, in their sense and substance
        Translated by the feelings which we had,  [590]
        Ended in this -- that we had crossed the Alps.
        
{L 525}   Imagination! -- lifting up itself
        Before the eye and progress of my song
        Like an unfathered vapour, here that power,  [595]
        In all the might of its endowments, came
        Athwart me. I was lost as in a cloud,
{L 530} Halted without a struggle to break through,
        And now, recovering, to my soul I say
        'I recognise thy glory'. In such strength
        Of usurpation, in such visitings
        Of awful promise, when the light of sense  [600]
{L 535} Goes out in flashes that have shewn to us
        The invisible world, doth greatness make abode,
        There harbours whether we be young or old.
        Our destiny, our nature, and our home,
        Is with infinitude -- and only there;  [605]
{L 540} With hope it is, hope that can never die,
        Effort, and expectation, and desire,
        And something evermore about to be.
        The mind beneath such banners militant
        Thinks not of spoils or trophies, nor of aught  [610]
{L 545} That may attest its prowess, blest in thoughts
        That are their own perfection and reward -- 
{P 218} 
        Strong in itself, and in the access of joy
        Which hides it like the overflowing Nile.
        
          The dull and heavy slackening which ensued  [617]
{L 550} Upon those tidings by the peasant given
        Was soon dislodged; downwards we hurried fast,
        And entered with the road which we had missed  [620]
        Into a narrow chasm. The brook and road
        Were fellow-travellers in this gloomy pass,
{L 555} And with them did we journey several hours
        At a slow step. The immeasurable height
        Of woods decaying, never to be decayed,  [625]
        The stationary blasts of waterfalls,
        And everywhere along the hollow rent
{L 560} Winds thwarting winds, bewildered and forlorn,
        The torrents shooting from the clear blue sky,
        The rocks that muttered close upon our ears --   [630]
        Black drizzling crags that spake by the wayside
        As if a voice were in them -- the sick sight
{L 565} And giddy prospect of the raving stream,
        The unfettered clouds and region of the heavens,
        Tumult and peace, the darkness and the light,  [635]
        Were all like workings of one mind, the features
        Of the same face, blossoms upon one tree,
{L 570} Characters of the great apocalypse,
        The types and symbols of eternity,
        Of first, and last, and midst, and without end.  [640]
        
          That night our lodging was an alpine house,
        An inn, or hospital (as they are named),
{L 575} Standing in that same valley by itself,
        And close upon the confluence of two streams -- 
        A dreary mansion, large beyond all need,  [645]
        With high and spacious rooms, deafened and stunned
        By noise of waters, making innocent sleep
{L 580} Lie melancholy among weary bones.

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Document created September 2nd 2011