The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 97

Composed 1798.--Published 1798.

[This poem is a favourite among the Quakers, as I have learned on many occasions. It was composed in front of the house of Alfoxden, in the spring of 1798. [A]--I.F.]

Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.

THE POEM

"Why, William, on that old grey stone, Thus for the length of half a day, Why, William, sit you thus alone, And dream your time away?

"Where are your books?--that light bequeathed 5 To Beings else forlorn and blind!

Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed From dead men to their kind.

"You look round on your Mother Earth, As if she for no purpose bore you; 10 As if you were her first-born birth, And none had lived before you!"

One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake, When life was sweet, I knew not why, To me my good friend Matthew spake, 15 And thus I made reply.

"The eye--it cannot choose but see; We cannot bid the ear be still; Our bodies feel, where'er they be, Against or with our will. 20

"Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise pa.s.siveness.

"Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum 25 Of things for ever speaking, That nothing of itself will come, But we must still be seeking?

"--Then ask not wherefore, here, alone, Conversing as I may, 30 I sit upon this old grey stone, And dream my time away."

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: In his "Advertis.e.m.e.nt" to the first edition of "Lyrical Ballads" (1798) Wordsworth writes,

"The lines ent.i.tled 'Expostulation and Reply', and those which follow, arose out of conversation with a friend who was somewhat unreasonably attached to modern books of Moral Philosophy."

Was the friend Sir James Mackintosh? or was it--a much more probable supposition--his friend, S. T. Coleridge?--Ed.]

THE TABLES TURNED

AN EVENING SCENE ON THE SAME SUBJECT

Composed 1798.--Published 1798

Included among the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.

THE POEM

Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books; Or surely you'll grow double: Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks; Why all this toil and trouble? [1]

The sun, above the mountain's head, 5 A freshening l.u.s.tre mellow Through all the long green fields has spread, His first sweet evening yellow.

Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, 10 How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it.

And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!

He, too, is [2] no mean preacher: Come forth into the light of things, 15 Let Nature be your Teacher.

She has a world of ready wealth, Our minds and hearts to bless-- Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health, Truth breathed by cheerfulness. 20

One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. [A]

Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; 25 Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:-- We murder to dissect.

Enough of Science and of Art; Close up those [3] barren leaves; 30 Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1820.

Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks, Why all this toil and trouble?

Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Or surely you'll grow double. 1798.]

[Variant 2: