The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 106

[Variant 28.

1802.

For sure he met ..... 1798.]

[Variant 29.

1798.

...unfriendly....

Only in MS. and in the edition of 1805.]

[Variant 30:

1827.

...that's feeding ... 1798.]

[Variant 31:

1827.

And now she's ... 1798.]

[Variant 32:

1827.

... she's happy there, 1798.]

[Variant 33:

1827

Long Susan lay deep lost in thought, 1798.]

[Variant 34: 1836.

... she posts ... 1798.]

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: As Wordsworth gives the date of this poem as 1798, the above line implies that his poetical work began at least in 1784, when he was fourteen years of age. The note to 'An Evening Walk' dictated to Miss Fenwick (see p. 5) implies the same.--Ed.]

SUB-FOOTNOTE ON THE VARIANT

[Sub-Footnote i: This change was made by S. T. C.--Ed.]

THE OLD c.u.mBERLAND BEGGAR [A]

Composed 1798.--Published 1800.

The cla.s.s of Beggars to which the old man here described belongs, will probably soon be extinct. It consisted of poor, and, mostly, old and infirm persons, who confined themselves to a stated round in their neighbourhood, and had certain fixed days, on which, at different houses, they regularly received charity; sometimes in money, but mostly in provisions.-W. W.

1800.

[Observed, and with great benefit to my own heart, when I was a child.

Written at Racedown and Alfoxden in my twenty-third year. [B] The Political Economists were about that time beginning their war upon mendicity in all its forms, and by implication, if not directly, on alms-giving also. This heartless process has been carried as far as it can go by the AMENDED Poor Law Bill, tho' the inhumanity that prevails in this measure is somewhat disguised by the profession that one of its objects is to throw the poor upon the voluntary donations of their neighbours; that is, if rightly interpreted, to force them into a condition between relief in the Union Poor House and alms robbed of their Christian grace and spirit, as being _forced_ rather from the benevolent than given by them; while the avaricious and selfish, and all, in fact, but the humane and charitable, are at liberty to keep all they possess from their distressed brethren.--I. F.]

Included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Old Age."--Ed.

THE POEM

I saw an aged Beggar in my walk; And he was seated, by the highway side, On a low structure of rude masonry Built at the foot of a huge hill, that they Who lead their horses down the steep rough road 5 May thence remount at ease. The aged Man Had placed his staff across the broad smooth stone That overlays the pile; and, from a bag All white with flour, the dole of village dames, He drew his sc.r.a.ps and fragments, one by one; 10 And scanned them with a fixed and serious look Of idle computation. In the sun, Upon the second step of that small pile, Surrounded by those wild unpeopled hills, He sat, and ate [1] his food in solitude: 15 And ever, scattered from his palsied hand, That, still attempting to prevent the waste, Was baffled still, the crumbs in little showers Fell on the ground; and the small mountain birds, Not venturing yet to peck their destined meal, 20 Approached within the length of half his staff.

Him from my childhood have I known; and then He was so old, he seems not older now; He travels on, a solitary Man, So helpless in appearance, that for him 25 The sauntering Horseman throws not with a slack And careless hand [2] his alms upon the ground, But stops,--that he may safely lodge the coin Within the old Man's hat; nor quits him so, But still, when he has given his horse the rein, 30 Watches the aged Beggar with a look [3]

Sidelong, and half-reverted. She who tends The toll-gate, when in summer at her door She turns her wheel, if on the road she sees The aged beggar coming, quits her work, 35 And lifts the latch for him that he may pa.s.s.

The post-boy, when his rattling wheels o'ertake The aged Beggar in the woody lane, Shouts to him from behind; and, if thus warned [4]

The old man does not change his course, the boy 40 Turns with less noisy wheels to the roadside, And pa.s.ses gently by, without a curse Upon his lips, or anger at his heart.

He travels on, a solitary Man; His age has no companion. On the ground 45 His eyes are turned, and, as he moves along, _They_ move along the ground; and, evermore, Instead of common and habitual sight Of fields with rural works, of hill and dale, And the blue sky, one little span of earth 50 Is all his prospect. Thus, from day to day, Bow-bent, his eyes for ever on the ground, [5]