[Page f.37v and f.38r]
Composed on f.37v, opposite the final stanza of “Irregular Verses” on f.38r, this appears to be a stanza inserted between the lines "Bliss that (so deemed we) should endure" and "No costly work..." as may be seen by DW's caret and her notes in the margin.
Irregular Verses
Ah Julia! ask a Christmas rhyme
Of me who in the golden time
Of careless, hopefull happy youth
Ne’er strove to decorate the truth,
Contented to lay bare my heart
To one dear Friend, who had her part
In all the love and all the care
And every joy that harboured there.
— To her I told in simple prose
Each girlish vision, as it rose
Before an active busy brain
That needed neither spur nor rein,
That still enjoyed the present hour
Yet for future raised a tower
Of bliss more exquisite and pure
Bliss that (so deemed we) should endure ^^ To the other
side.
Maxims of caution, prudent fears ^^ should endure
Vexed not the projects of those years;
Simplicity our steadfast darling theme
No works of art adorned our scheme.—
Simplicity our steadfast theme.⟨darling scheme⟩
A cottage & c
No costly work of studious art
Did in those visions make a part;
A cottage in a verdant dell,
A foaming ^^ stream ^, a ^crystal Well
A garden stored with fruit and flowers
[Page f.38v]
And sunny seats and shady bowers,
A file of hives for humming bees
Under a row of stately trees
And, sheltering all this faery ground,
A belt of hills must wrap it round,
Not stern or mountainous, or bare,
Nor lacking herbs to scent the air;
Nor antient trees, nor scattered rocks,
— Besprinkled o’er with trees and rocks,
And pastured by the blameless flocks
That leave print their green tracks to invite
Our wanderings to the topmost height.
Such was the spot I fondly framed
When life was new, and hope untamed:
There with my one dear Friend would dwell,
Nor wish for aught beyond the dell.
Alas! the cottage fled in air,
The streamlet never flowed:
— Yet did those visions pass away
So gently,that with both they seemed to stay.
Though Although ^^ each in in our riper years^we each pursued a different way. a different road
— We parted, sorrowful; by duty led:
My Friend, ere long a happy Wife
Was seen with dignity to tread Though in our riper years each went took a different road
[Page f.39r without patch]
A slip of attached paper has been folded back to show what is written on the notebook page. The page is copied, below, with the slip visible. Dorothy added slips like this for a new copy, when the origional revision was becoming unreadable.
The paths of usefulness and active life
As thou canst witness, thou dear Maid,
One of the darlings of her care
Thy Mother was that faithful Friend, who still
repaid
Frank confidence with unshaken truth.
This was the glory of her youth
A brighter gem than glitters in the diadem
Of monarch or of prince.
And now in her declining days
It cheers and guides with steady rays.
The paths of usefulness, and in active life;
And such her course in through later days;
The same her honour and her praise;
As thou canst witness, thou dear Maid,
One of the Darlings of her care;
Thy Mother was that Friend who still repaid
Frank confidence with unshaken ’truth:
This was the glory of her youth,
A brighter gem than glitters in princely diadem.shines in prince’s diadem prince’s
You ask why in that jocund time ⟨?⟩
Why did I not in jingling rhyme⟨?⟩
Display those pleasant guileless dreams
That furnished still exhaustless themes?
— I reverenced the Poets’ skill,
And might have nursed the wish and will a mounting Will
To imitate the tender Lays
Of them who sand in Nature’s praise;
But bashfulness, a struggling shame
A fear that elder heads might blame
—Or something worse — a lurking pride,
Whispering my playmates would deride
[Page f.39r with patch]
A separate piece of paper inserted into the notebook.
The paths of usefulness and in active life;
And such her course in through later days:
The same her honour and her praise;
As thou canst witness, thou dear Maid,
One of the Darlings of her care;
Thy Mother was that faithful Friend, who still repaid
Frank confidence with unshaken ’truth
This was the glory of her youth
A brighter gem than glitters in princely the diadem.shines in prince’s diadem prince’s
You ask why in that jocund time ⟨?⟩
Why did I not in jingling rhyme⟨?⟩
Display those pleasant guileless dreams
That furnished still exhaustless themes?
— I reverenced the Poets’ skill,
And might have nursed the wish and will a mounting Will
To imitate the tender Lays
Of them who sand in Nature’s praise;
But bashfulness, a struggling shame
A fear that elder heads might blame
—Or something worse — a lurking pride,
Whispering my playmates would deride
[Page f.39v]
Stifled ambition, check’d the aim
If e’er by chance “the numbers came”
— Nay, even the mild maternal smile,
That off-times would repress, beguile
The over-confidence of youth
Even that dear smile, to own the truth,
Was readed by a fond self-love;
’Twill glance on me — and to reprove
“Twill surely come, and to reprove
Or, “(sorest wrong in childhood’s school)
“‘TWill point the sting of ridicule.”
And now, dear Girl, I hear you ask
Is this your lightsome, chearful task?
You tell us tales of forty years,
Of hopes extinct, of childish fears
Why cast among us thoughts of sadness
[patch]
When we are seeking mirth and gladness?
Nay, ill those words befit the Maid,
Who pleaded for my Christmas rhymes
[end patch]
Mirthful she is; but placid — staid —
Her heart beats to no giddy chime
[Page f.40r]
Though it with Chearfulness keep time
For Chearfulness, a willing guest,
Finds ever in her tranquil breast
A fostering home, a welcome rest.
And well she knows that, casting thought away,
We lose the best part of our day;
That joys of youth remembered when youth is past
But not a thoughtlessmirth
In resting place on earth
And if this poor memorial strain,
Breathed from the depths of years gone by,
Should touch her Mother’s breastheart with tender pain,
Or call a tear into her loving eye,
She will not checkquench check the tear or checkstill the rising sigh —
— The happiest heart is given to sadness;
The saddest heart feels deepest gladness.
How thoughtlesslyIn thoughtlessness those words I spoke
Breaking a law that I would
That question ill befits &c
[Page f.40v]
Thou dost not ask, thou dost not need
A verse from me; nor wilt thou heed
A greeting marked in laboured rhyme
From one whose heart has still kept time
With every pulse of thine
[Page f.41r "Blank."]
