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Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)
·
Dorothy Wordsworth
134
Friday,
April
30th.--We
came
into
the
orchard
directly
after
breakfast,
and
sate
there.
The
lake
was
calm,
the
day
cloudy....
Two
fishermen
by
the
lake
side.
William
began
to
write
the
poem
of
The
Celandine.[64]
...
Walked
backwards
and
forwards
with
William--he
repeated
his
poem
to
me,
then
he
got
to
work
again
and
would
not
give
over.
He
had
not
finished
his
dinner
till
5
o'clock.
After
dinner
we
took
up
the
fur
gown
into
the
Hollins
above.
We
found
a
sweet
seat,
and
thither
we
will
often
go.
We
spread
the
gown,
put
on
each
a
cloak,
and
there
we
lay.
William
fell
asleep,
he
had
a
bad
headache
owing
to
his
having
been
disturbed
the
night
before,
with
reading
C.'s
letter.
I
did
not
sleep,
but
lay
with
half-shut
eyes
looking
at
the
prospect
as
on
a
vision
almost,
I
was
so
resigned[65]
to
it.
Loughrigg
Fell
was
the
most
distant
hill,
then
came
the
lake,
slipping
in
between
the
copses.
Above
the
copse,
the
round
swelling
field;
nearer
to
me,
a
wild
intermixture
of
rocks,
trees,
and
patches
of
grassy
ground.
When
we
turned
the
corner
of
our
little
shelter,
we
saw
the
church
and
the
whole
vale.
It
is
a
blessed
place.
The
birds
were
about
us
on
all
sides.
Skobbies,
robins,
bull-finches,
and
crows,
now
and
then
flew
over
our
heads,
as
we
were
warned
by
the
sound
of
the
beating
of
the
air
above.
We
stayed
till
the
light
of
day
was
going,
and
the
little
birds
had
begun
to
settle
their
singing.
But
there
was
a
thrush
not
far
off,
that
seemed
to
sing
louder
and
clearer
than
the
thrushes
had
sung
when
it
was
quite
day.
We
came
in
at
8
o'clock,
got
tea,
wrote
to
Coleridge,
and
I
wrote
to
Mrs.
Clarkson
part
of
a
letter.
We
went
to
bed
at
20
minutes
past
11,
with
prayers
that
William
might
sleep
well.
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