The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume Ii Part 26

[Variant 3:

Our earth is no doubt made of excellent stuff, But her pulses beat slower and slower, The weather in Forty was cutting and rough, And then, as Heaven knows, the gla.s.s stood low enough, And _now_ it is four degrees lower.

This stanza occurs only in the editions of 1800 to 1815.]

[Variant 4:

1820.

Here's a Fly, ... 1800.]

[Variant 5:

1827.

... this ... 1800.]

[Variant 6:

1837.

... and not back to the wall, 1800.]

[Variant 7:

1827.

... and the South ... 1800.]

[Variant 8:

1845.

See! his spindles ... 1800.

How his spindles ... 1827.]

[Variant 9:

1827.

... no Friend ... 1800.

No brother has he, no companion, while I MS.]

[Variant 10:

1837.

... comes ... 1800.]

A POET'S EPITAPH

Composed 1799.--Published 1800

One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."--Ed.

Art thou a Statist [1] in the van Of public conflicts [2] trained and bred?

--First learn to love one living man; _Then_ may'st thou think upon the dead.

A Lawyer art thou?--draw not nigh! 5 Go, carry to some fitter place The keenness of that practised eye, The hardness of that sallow face. [3]

Art thou a Man of purple cheer?

A rosy Man, right plump to see? 10 Approach; yet, Doctor, [A] not too near, This grave no cushion is for thee.

Or art thou one of gallant pride, [4]

A Soldier and no man of chaff?

Welcome!--but lay thy sword aside, 15 And lean upon a peasant's staff.

Physician art thou?--one, all eyes, Philosopher!--a fingering slave, One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave? 20

Wrapt closely in thy sensual fleece, O turn aside,--and take, I pray, That he below may rest in peace, Thy ever-dwindling soul, away! [5]

A Moralist perchance appears; 25 Led, Heaven knows how! to this poor sod: And he has neither eyes nor ears; Himself his world, and his own G.o.d;

One to whose smooth-rubbed soul can cling Nor form, nor feeling, great or [6] small; 30 A reasoning, self-sufficing [7] thing, An intellectual All-in-all!