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Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)
·
Dorothy Wordsworth
146
[Footnote
68:
Compare
The
Green
Linnett,
vol.
ii.
p.
367.--ED.]
Saturday,
29th.--
...
William
finished
his
poem
on
going
for
Mary.
I
wrote
it
out.
I
wrote
to
Mary
H.,
having
received
a
letter
from
her
in
the
evening.
A
sweet
day.
We
nailed
up
the
honeysuckles,
and
hoed
the
scarlet
beans.
Monday,
31st.--
...
We
sat
out
all
the
day....
I
wrote
out
the
poem
on
"Our
Departure,"
which
he
seemed
to
have
finished.
In
the
evening
Miss
Simpson
brought
us
a
letter
from
M.
H.,
and
a
complimentary
and
critical
letter
to
W.
from
John
Wilson
of
Glasgow.[69]...
[Footnote
69:
Christopher
North.--ED.]
Tuesday.--A
very
sweet
day,
but
a
sad
want
of
rain.
We
went
into
the
orchard
after
I
had
written
to
M.
H.
Then
on
to
Mr.
Olliff's
intake....
The
columbine
was
growing
upon
the
rocks;
here
and
there
a
solitary
plant,
sheltered
and
shaded
by
the
tufts
and
bowers
of
trees.
It
is
a
graceful
slender
creature,
a
female
seeking
retirement,
and
growing
freest
and
most
graceful
where
it
is
most
alone.
I
observed
that
the
more
shaded
plants
were
always
the
tallest.
A
short
note
and
gooseberries
from
Coleridge.
We
walked
upon
the
turf
near
John's
Grove.
It
was
a
lovely
night.
The
clouds
of
the
western
sky
reflected
a
saffron
light
upon
the
upper
end
of
the
lake.
All
was
still.
We
went
to
look
at
Rydale.
There
was
an
Alpine,
fire-like
red
upon
the
tops
of
the
mountains.
This
was
gone
when
we
came
in
view
of
the
lake.
But
we
saw
the
lake
from
a
new
and
most
beautiful
point
of
view,
between
two
little
rocks,
and
behind
a
small
ridge
that
had
concealed
it
from
us.
This
White
Moss,
a
place
made
for
all
kinds
of
beautiful
works
of
art
and
nature,
woods
and
valleys,
fairy
valleys
and
fairy
tarns,
miniature
mountains,
alps
above
alps.
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