STRANGE fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.
When she I loved look'd every day
Fresh as a rose in June,
I to her cottage bent my way,
Beneath an evening moon.
Upon the moon I fix'd my eye,
All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my horse drew nigh
Those paths so dear to me.
And now we reach'd the orchard-plot;
And, as we climb'd the hill,
The sinking moon to Lucy's cot
Came near and nearer still.
In one of those sweet dreams I slept,
Kind Nature's gentlest boon!
And all the while my eyes I kept
On the descending moon.
My horse moved on; hoof after hoof
He raised, and never stopp'd:
When down behind the cottage roof,
At once, the bright moon dropp'd.
What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a lover's head!
'O mercy!' to myself I cried,
'If Lucy should be dead!'
II.
SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and oh,
The difference to me!
III.
I TRAVELL'D among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! did I know till then
What love I bore to thee.
'Tis past, that melancholy dream!
Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem
To love thee more and more.
Among the mountains did I feel
The joy of my desire;
And she I cherish'd turn'd her wheel
Beside an English fire.
Thy mornings show'd, thy nights conceal'd,
The bowers where Lucy play'd;
And thine too is the last green field
That Lucy's eyes survey'd.
IV.
THREE years she grew in sun and shower;
Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown;
This child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A lady of my own.
"Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse; and with me
The girl, in rock and plain,
In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power
To kindle or restrain.
"She shall be sportive as the fawn
That wild with glee across the lawn
Or up the mountain springs;
And hers shall be the breathing balm,
And hers the silence and the calm
Of mute insensate things.
"The floating clouds their state shall lend
To her; for her the willow bend;
Nor shall she fail to see
Even in the motions of the storm
Grace that shall mould the maiden's form
By silent sympathy.
"The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.
"And vital feelings of delight
Shall rear her form to stately height,
Her virgin bosom swell;
Such thoughts to Lucy I will give
While she and I together live
Here in this happy dell."
Thus Nature spake -- The work was done --
How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died, and left to me
This heath, this calm and quiet scene;
The memory of what has been,
And never more will be.
V.
A SLUMBER did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seem'd a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.
No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Roll'd round in earth's diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees.
William Wordsworth had 6 children, the first of whom was Caroline, born in 1792. She lived in France with her mother, Annette Vallon, and rarely saw her father.
He married a childhood friend, Mary Hutchinson, in 1802 and together they had 5 children, 3 of whom predeceased the poet. 8 year old Thomas and 4 year old Catharine both passed away in the year 1812, after short illnesses. Dorothy (Dora),
was born in 1804. She married Edward Quillinan in 1841. She passed away at the age of 42 on July 9,
1847. Wordsworth wrote a relative:
"My
dear C____ ,
"Last
night (I ought to have said a quarter before
one this morning), it pleased God to take to Himself
the spirit of our beloved daughter, and your truly
affectionate cousin. She had latterly much bodily
suffering, under which she supported herself by
prayer, and gratitude to her heavenly Father, for
granting her to the last so many of His blessings.
"I
need not write more. Your aunt bears up
under this affliction as becomes a Christian.
"Kindest
love to Susan, of whose sympathy we
are fully assured.
"Your
affectionate uncle, and the more so for this
affliction,
"WM.
WORDSWORTH.
"Pray
for us ! "
Wordsworth passed away on 4/23/1850 and was survived by his widow, Mary, and two sons, John and William (Willy). His sister, Dorothy (1771-1855), was the only one of his 4 siblings to survive him.
In October 1814, Wordsworth and his sister, Dorothy, had planned a trip to France to attend the wedding of Caroline to Jean-Baptiste Baudouin. However, Napoleon's return from Elba and the outbreak of war prevented the trip. The marriage was postponed until February 1816, and although Wordsworth could not attend, he provided a dowry for his daughter.
Poet, Robert Southey was in Paris in 1817 and, presumably at
Wordsworth's request, he visited Caroline and found that neither she nor her husband spoke a word of English, and that they had an infant, whom they had named Dorothy.
