Resolution and Independence

"Resolution and Independence" is a lyric poem by the English romantic poet William Wordsworth, composed in 1802 and published in 1807 in Poems in Two Volumes. The poem contains twenty stanzas written in modified rhyme royal, and describes Wordworth’s encounter with a leech-gatherer upon Barton Fell, near Ullswater in the Lake District, England.

Overview

Stanzas I-III of the poem describe the poet's joy while taking a morning walk after a night of rain.

In stanzas IV-VII, the poet is suddenly beset by anxious thoughts and fears about his own future, as well as the future of all poets, saying "We Poets in our youth begin in gladness; / But thereof come in the end despondency and madness." In Stanza VII, Wordsworth recounts past poets who died at a young age. In line 43, he "thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy / The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride", referring to Thomas Chatterton, an 18th-century poet who committed suicide at the age of 17 after duping many in the literary world with his brilliant medieval forgeries. In line 45, Wordsworth writes "of Him who walked in glory and in joy / Following his plough, along the mountain-side", a reference to Robert Burns, who died at the age of 37 after an extended illness.

The poem concludes in stanzas VIII-XX with Wordsworth meeting an old, poor leech-gatherer who endures the hardships of his life with patience and acceptance. The poet recovers from his dejection, and views the man as having been sent "To give me human strength, by apt admonishment".

History and background

The poem is based on Wordsworth’s actual encounter with a leech-gatherer on 3 October 1800, near his home at Dove Cottage in Grasmere. However, the poem was not written until May 1802, when Wordsworth experienced the "despondency" described in the poem while walking on Barton Fell. It was during this walk that he "[recollected] the emotion in tranquility" and associated the leech-gatherer he had met two years earlier with his current experience. The first version of the poem was written between 3–9 May 1802 under the title of "The Leech-Gatherer", but Wordsworth considerably revised the poem during the following months after it was reviewed by his fiancée, Mary Hutchinson, and her sister Sara.

The poem

There was a roaring in the wind all night; The rain came heavily and fell in floods; But now the sun is rising calm and bright; The birds are singing in the distant woods; Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods; The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters; And all the air is fill'd with pleasant noise of waters.

All things that love the sun are out of doors; The sky rejoices in the morning's birth; The grass is bright with rain-drops; on the moors The Hare is running races in her mirth; And with her feet she from the plashy earth Raises a mist; which, glittering in the sun, Runs with her all the way, wherever she doth run.

I was a Traveller then upon the moor; I saw the Hare that rac'd about with joy; I heard the woods, and distant waters, roar; Or heard them not, as happy as a Boy: The pleasant season did my heart employ: My old remembrances went from me wholly; And all the ways of men, so vain and melancholy.

But, as it sometimes chanceth, from the might Of joy in minds that can no farther go, As high as we have mounted in delight In our dejection do we sink as low, To me that morning did it happen so; And fears, and fancies, thick upon me came; Dim sadness, & blind thoughts I knew not nor could name.

I heard the Sky-lark singing in the sky; And I bethought me of the playful Hare: Even such a happy Child of earth am I; Even as these blissful Creatures do I fare; Far from the world I walk, and from all care; But there may come another day to me, Solitude, pain of heart, distress, and poverty.

My whole life I have liv'd in pleasant thought, As if life's business were a summer mood; As if all needful things would come unsought To genial faith, still rich in genial good; But how can He expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?

I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy, The sleepless Soul that perish'd in its pride; Of Him who walk'd in glory and in joy Behind his plough, upon the mountain-side: By our own spirits are we deified; We Poets in our youth begin in gladness; But thereof comes in the end despondency and madness.

Now, whether it were by peculiar grace, A leading from above, a something given, Yet it befel, that, in this lonely place, When up and down my fancy thus was driven, And I with these untoward thoughts had striven, I saw a Man before me unawares: The oldest Man he seem'd that ever wore grey hairs.

My course I stopped as soon as I espied The Old Man in that naked wilderness: Close by a Pond, upon the further side, He stood alone: a minute's space I guess. I watch'd him, he continuing motionless: To the Pool's further margin then I drew; He being all the while before me full in view.

As a huge Stone is sometimes seen to lie Couch'd on the bald top of an eminence; Wonder to all who do the same espy By what means it could thither come, and whence; So that it seems a thing endued with sense: Like a Sea-beast crawl'd forth, which on a shelf Of rock or sand reposeth, there to sun itself.

Such seem'd this Man, not all alive nor dead, Nor all asleep; in his extreme old age: His body was bent double, feet and head Coming together in their pilgrimage; As if some dire constraint of pain, or rage Of sickness felt by him in times long past, A more than human weight upon his frame had cast.

Himself he propp'd, his body, limbs, and face, Upon a long grey Staff of shaven wood: And, still as I drew near with gentle pace, Beside the little pond or moorish flood Motionless as a Cloud the Old Man stood; That heareth not the loud winds when they call; And moveth altogether, if it move at all.

At length, himself unsettling, he the Pond Stirred with his Staff, and fixedly did look Upon the muddy water, which he conn'd, As if he had been reading in a book: And now such freedom as I could I took; And, drawing to his side, to him did say, "This morning gives us promise of a glorious day."

A gentle answer did the Old Man make, In courteous speech which forth he slowly drew: And him with further words I thus bespake, "What kind of work is that which you pursue? This is a lonesome place for one like you." He answer'd me with pleasure and surprize; And there was, while he spake, a fire about his eyes.

His words came feebly, from a feeble chest, Yet each in solemn order follow'd each,. With something of a lofty utterance drest; Choice word, and measured phrase; above the reach Of ordinary men; a stately speech! Such as grave Livers do in Scotland use, Religious men, who give to God and Man their dues.

He told me that he to this pond had come To gather Leeches, being old and poor: Employment hazardous and wearisome! And he had many hardships to endure: From Pond to Pond he roam'd, from moor to moor, Housing, with God's good help, by choice or chance: And in this way he gain'd an honest maintenance.

The Old Man still stood talking by my side; But now his voice to me was like a stream Scarce heard; nor word from word could I divide; And the whole Body of the man did seem Like one whom I had met with in a dream; Or like a Man from some far region sent; To give me human strength, and strong admonishment.

My former thoughts return'd: the fear that kills; The hope that is unwilling to be fed; Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly ills; And mighty Poets in their misery dead. And now, not knowing what the Old Man had said, My question eagerly did I renew, "How is it that you live, and what is it you do?"

He with a smile did then his words repeat; And said, that, gathering Leeches, far and wide He travelled; stirring thus about his feet The waters of the Ponds where they abide. "Once I could meet with them on every side; But they have dwindled long by slow decay; Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may."

While he was talking thus, the lonely place, The Old Man's shape, and speech, all troubled me: In my mind's eye I seem'd to see him pace About the weary moors continually, Wandering about alone and silently. While I these thoughts within myself pursued, He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed.

And soon with this he other matter blended, Chearfully uttered, with demeanour kind, But stately in the main; and, when he ended, I could have laugh'd myself to scorn, to find In that decrepit Man so firm a mind. "God," said I, "be my help and stay secure; I'll think of the Leech-gatherer on the lonely moor."

Parodies

In the 1871 novel Through the Looking-Glass, Lewis Carroll parodies "Resolution and Independence" with the poem "Haddocks' Eyes".

See also

• 1807 in poetry