The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 2 (of 8) — Background and Themes

iii. of 'Biographia Literaria' (vol. ii. p. 83 of the edition of 1817).--Ed.]

This poem illustrates the way in which Wordsworth's imagination worked upon a minimum of fact, idealizing a simple story, and adding

'the gleam, The light that never was, on sea or land, The consecration, and the Poet's dream.'

It is the only poem of his referring to Ennerdale; but perhaps the chief association with that dale, to those who visit it after becoming acquainted with this poem, will be the fact that the brothers Ewbank were supposed to have spent their youth under the shadow of the Pillar, and Leonard to have had this conversation, on his return from sea, with the venerable priest of Ennerdale. The district is described with all that local accuracy which Wordsworth invariably showed in idealization. The height whence James Ewbank is supposed to have fallen is not the Pillar-Rock--a crag somewhat difficult to ascend, except by practised climbers, and which has only been accessible since mountaineering became an art and a passion to Englishmen. But, if we suppose the conversation with the priest of Ennerdale to have taken place at the Bridge, below the Lake--as that is the only place where there is both a hamlet and "a churchyard"--the "precipice" will refer to the Pillar "Mountain." Both are alluded to in the poem. The lines,

'You see yon precipice;--it wears the shape Of a vast building made of many crags; And in the midst is one particular rock That rises like a column from the vale, Whence by our shepherds it is called, _The Pillar_,'

are definite enough. The great mass of the Pillar Mountain is first referred to, and then the Rock which is a characteristic spur, halfway up the mountain on its northern side. The "aëry summit crowned with heath," however, on which "the loiterer" "lay stretched at ease," could neither be the top of this "rock" nor the summit of the "mountain": not the former, because there is no heath on it, and it would be impossible for a weary man, loitering behind his companions, to ascend it to rest; not the latter, because no one resting on the summit of the mountain could be "not unnoticed by his comrades," and they would not pass that way over the top of the mountain "on their return" to Ennerdale. This is an instance, therefore, in which precise localization is impossible. Probably Wordsworth did not know either that the pillar "rock" was bare on the summit, or that it had never been ascended in 1800; and he idealised it to suit his imaginative purpose. In connection with this poem, a remark he made to the Hon. Mr. Justice Coleridge may be recalled.

"He said there was some foundation in fact, however slight, for every poem he had written of a narrative kind; ... 'The Brothers' was founded on a young shepherd, in his sleep, having fallen down a crag, his staff remaining suspended mid-way."

(See the 'Memoirs of Wordsworth', by the late Bishop of Lincoln, vol. ii. p. 305.) It should be added that the character of Leonard Ewbank was drawn in large part from that of the poet's brother John--Ed.

THE SEVEN SISTERS; OR, THE SOLITUDE OF BINNORIE [A]

Composed 1800. [B]--Published 1807

The Story of this Poem is from the German of Frederica Brun. [C]--W. W. 1807.

One of the "Poems of the Fancy."--Ed.

I Seven Daughters had Lord Archibald, All children of one mother: You could [1] not say in one short day What love they bore each other. A garland, of seven lilies, wrought! 5 Seven Sisters that together dwell; But he, bold Knight as ever fought, Their Father, took of them no thought, He loved the wars so well. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, 10 The solitude of Binnorie!

II Fresh blows the wind, a western wind, And from the shores of Erin, Across the wave, a Rover brave To Binnorie is steering: 15 Right onward to the Scottish strand The gallant ship is borne; The warriors leap upon the land, And hark! the Leader of the band Hath blown his bugle horn. 20 Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie.

III Beside a grotto of their own, With boughs above them closing, The Seven are laid, and in the shade 25 They lie like fawns reposing. But now, upstarting with affright At noise of man and steed, Away they fly to left, to right-- Of your fair household, Father-knight, 30 Methinks you take small heed! Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie.