Whan it up rysith erly by the morwe;
That blisful sight softneth al my sorwe,
So glad am I, whan that I have presence
Of it, to doon it alle reverence,

As she that is of alle floures flour.

To seen this flour so yong, so fresshe of hewe,
Constreynde me with so gledy desire,

That in myn herte I feele yet the fire,
That made me to ryse er yt wer day,

And this was now the firste morwe of May,
With dredful hert, and glad devocioun
For to ben at the resurreccion

Of this flour, whan that yt shulde unclose
Agayne the sonne, that roos as rede as rose
And doune on knes anoon ryght I me sette,
And as I koude, this fresshe flour I grette,
Knelying alwey, til it unclosed was,
Upon the smale, softe, swote gras.

Again, in the Cuckoo and the Nightingale, after a wakeful night, the Poet rises at dawn, and wandering forth, reaches a "laund of white and green."

So feire oon had I nevere in bene,

The grounde was grene, y poudred with daysé,

The flowres and the gras ilike al hie,

ΑΙ

grene and white, was nothing elles sene."

TO THE SAME FLOWER.*

Comp. 1802.

Pub. 1807.

[Composed in the orchard, Town-end, Grasmere.]

WITH little here to do or see

Of things that in the great world be,
Daisy! again I talk to thee,1

For thou art worthy,

Sweet Daisy oft I talk to thee,

Yet once again I talk to thee,

-ED.

1807.

1843.

* The two following Poems were overflowings of the mind in composing the one which stands first in the first volume (i.e. the previous Poem). 1807.

Thou unassuming Common-place
Of Nature, with that homely face,
And yet with something of a grace,
Which Love makes for thee!

Oft on the dappled turf at ease
I sit, and play with similes.1

Loose types of things through all degrees,
Thoughts of thy raising:

And many a fond and idle name

I give to thee, for praise or blame,
As is the humour of the game,
While I am gazing.

1820.

A nun demure of lowly port;

Or sprightly maiden, of Love's court,
In thy simplicity the sport

Of all temptations;

A queen in crown of rubies drest;
A starveling in a scanty vest;
Are all as seems to suit thee best,
Thy appellations.

A little cyclops, with one eye
Staring to threaten and defy,

That thought comes next-and instantly
The freak is over,

The shape will vanish-and behold

A silver shield with boss of gold,
That spreads itself some faery bold.
In fight to cover!

I see thee glittering from afar-
And then thou art a pretty star;

Oft do I sit by thee at ease,
And weave a web of similes,

1807.

Not quite so fair as many are

In heaven above thee!

Yet like a star, with glittering crest,

Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest ;—
May peace come never to his nest
Who shall reprove thee!

Bright Flower! for by that name at last,
When all my reveries are past,

I call thee, and to that cleave fast,
Sweet silent creature!

That breath'st with me in sun and air,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a share

Of thy meek nature!

In 1843 Wordsworth gave 1805 as the year in which this poem was composed, but the Fenwick note prefixed to it renders this impossible. It evidently belongs to the same time, and "mood," as the previous poem.-ED.

[This and the other Poems addressed to the same flower were composed at Town-end, Grasmere, during the earlier part of my residence there. I have been censured for the last line but one- thy function apostolical"—as being little less than profane. How could it be thought so? The word is adopted with reference to its derivation, implying something sent on a mission; and assuredly this little flower, especially when the subject of verse, may be regarded, in its humble degree, as administering both to moral and to spiritual purposes.]

BRIGHT Flower! whose home is everywhere,
Bold in maternal Nature's care,1

A Pilgrim bold in Nature's care,
Confiding Flower, by Nature's care,
Made bold,-who, lodging here or there,
Art all the long year through the heir

Of joy or sorrow,

1807.

1836.

And all the long year through the heir
Of joy or sorrow;

Methinks that there abides in thee
Some concord with humanity,1

Given to no other flower I see
The forest thorough!

Is it that Man is soon deprest?

A thoughtless Thing! who, once unblest,
Does little on his memory rest,

Or on his reason,

And Thou would'st teach him how to find
A shelter under every wind,

A hope for times that are unkind
And every season?

Thou wander'st the wide world about,
Uncheck'd by pride or scrupulous doubt,
With friends to greet thee, or without,
Yet pleased and willing;

Meek, yielding to the occasion's call,
And all things suffering from all,
Thy function apostolical

In peace fulfilling.

These three Poems on The Daisy evidently belong to the same time, and are, as Wordsworth expressly says, "overflowings of the same mood." Nevertheless, in the revised edition of 1836, he gave the date 1802 to the first and the third, and 1805 to the second of them. In the earlier editions 1815 to 1832, they are all classed amongst the "Poems of the Fancy," but in ed. 1836, the last, "Bright Flower! whose home is everywhere," is ranked amongst the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection." They should manifestly be arranged together. The fourth poem To the Daisy-consisting of elegiac stanzas on his brother John, belonging to a subsequent year, and having no connection with the three preceding poems-will be found in its chronological place.-ED.

1 1807.

Communion with humanity,

Some concord, &c.,

1836.

readopted in 1843.

1803.

The poems associated with the year 1803 consist mainly of the "Memorials of a Tour in Scotland," which Wordsworth and his sister took-along with Coleridge-in the autumn of that year, although many of these were not written till some time after the Tour was finished. The Green Linnet and Yew-trees were written in 1803, and some sonnets were composed in the month of October; but, on the whole, 1803 was not a fruitful year, in Wordsworth's life, as regards his lyrics and smaller poems. Doubtless both The Prelude and The Excursion were being revised and added to in 1803.-ED.

[Composed in the orchard, Town-end, Grasmere, where the bird was often seen as here described.]

BENEATH these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow-white blossoms on my head,

With brightest sunshine round me spread
Of spring's unclouded weather,

In this sequestered nook how sweet

To sit upon my orchard-seat!

And birds and flowers once more to greet,

My last year's friends together.1

1 1827.

The May is come again ;-how sweet

To sit upon my orchard-seat!

And Birds and Flowers once more to greet,
My last year's Friends together;

My thoughts they all by turns employ;
A whispering Leaf is now my joy,

And then a Bird will be the toy

That doth my fancy tether.

1807.

And Flowers and Birds once more to greet,

1815.