The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume Ii Part 40

But ill he lived, [19] much evil saw, 145 With men to whom no better law Nor better life was known; Deliberately, and undeceived, Those wild men's vices he received, And gave them back his own. 150

His genius and his moral frame Were thus impaired, and he became The slave of low desires: A Man who without self-control Would seek what the degraded soul 155 Unworthily admires.

And yet he with no feigned delight Had wooed the Maiden, day and night Had loved her, night and morn: What could he less than love a Maid 160 Whose heart with so much nature played So kind and so forlorn!

Sometimes, most earnestly, he said, "O Ruth! I have been worse than dead; False thoughts, thoughts bold and vain, 165 Encompa.s.sed me on every side When I, in confidence and pride, Had crossed the Atlantic main. [20]

"Before me shone a glorious world-- Fresh as a banner bright, unfurled 170 To music suddenly: [21]

I looked upon those hills and plains, And seemed as if let loose from chains, To live at liberty.

[22]

"No more of this; for now, by thee, 175 Dear Ruth! more happily set free With n.o.bler zeal I burn; [23]

My soul from darkness is released, Like the whole sky when to the east [24]

The morning doth return." 180 [25]

Full soon that better mind was gone; [26]

No hope, no wish remained, not one,-- They stirred him now no more; New objects did new pleasure give, And once again he wished to live 185 As lawless as before.

Meanwhile, as thus with him it fared, They for the voyage were prepared, And went to the sea-sh.o.r.e, But, when they thither came, the Youth 190 Deserted his poor Bride, and Ruth Could never find him more.

G.o.d help thee, Ruth!-Such pains she had, That she in half a year was mad, And in a prison housed; 195 And there, with many a doleful song Made of wild words, her cup of wrong She fearfully caroused. [27]

Yet sometimes milder hours she knew, Nor wanted sun, nor rain, nor dew, 200 Nor pastimes of the May; --They all were with her in her cell; And a clear brook [28] with cheerful knell Did o'er the pebbles play.

When Ruth three seasons thus had lain, 205 There came a respite to her pain; She from her prison fled; But of the Vagrant none took thought; And where it liked her best she sought Her shelter and her bread. 210

Among the fields she breathed again: The master-current of her brain Ran permanent and free; And, coming to the Banks of Tone, [I]

There did she rest; and dwell alone [29] 215 Under the greenwood tree.

The engines of her pain, [30] the tools That shaped her sorrow, rocks and pools, And airs that gently stir The vernal leaves--she loved them still; 220 Nor ever taxed them with the ill Which had been done to her.

A Barn her _winter_ bed supplies; But, till the warmth of summer skies And summer days is gone, 225 (And all do in this tale agree) [31]

She sleeps beneath the greenwood tree, And other home hath none.

An innocent life, yet far astray!

And Ruth will, long before her day, [32] 230 Be broken down and old: Sore aches she needs must have! but less Of mind, than body's wretchedness, From damp, and rain, and cold. [33]

If she is prest by want of food, 235 She from her dwelling in the wood Repairs to a road-side; And there she begs at one steep place Where up and down with easy pace The hors.e.m.e.n-travellers ride. 240

That oaten pipe of hers is mute, Or thrown away; but with a flute Her loneliness she cheers: This flute, made of a hemlock stalk, At evening in his homeward walk 245 The Quantock woodman hears.

I, too, have pa.s.sed her on the hills Setting her little water-mills By spouts and fountains wild-- Such small machinery as she turned 250 Ere she had wept, ere she had mourned, A young and happy Child!

Farewell! and when thy days are told, Ill-fated Ruth, in hallowed mould Thy corpse shall buried be, 255 For thee a funeral bell shall ring, And all the congregation sing A Christian psalm for thee.

The following extract from Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal gives the date of the stanzas added to 'Ruth' in subsequent editions:

"Sunday, March 8th, 1802.--I st.i.tched up 'The Pedlar,' wrote out 'Ruth', read it with the alterations.... William brought two new stanzas of 'Ruth'."

The transpositions of stanzas, and their omission from certain editions and their subsequent re-introduction, in altered form, in later ones, make it extremely difficult to give the textual history of 'Ruth' in footnotes. They are even more bewildering than the changes introduced into 'Simon Lee'.--Ed.

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1802.

And so, not seven years old, The slighted Child ... 1800.]

[Variant 2:

1836.

And from that oaten pipe could draw All sounds ... 1800.]

[Variant 3: This stanza was added in the edition of 1802.]

[Variant 4:

1827.

She pa.s.s'd her time; and in this way Grew up to Woman's height. 1802.]

[Variant 5:

1836.

Ah no! ... 1800.]

[Variant 6:

1805.

... bare ... 1800.]

[Variant 7: