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Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)
·
Dorothy Wordsworth
72
Wednesday,
11th.--
...
Put
aside
dearest
C.'s
letters,
and
now,
at
about
7
o'clock,
we
are
all
sitting
by
a
nice
fire.
Wm.
with
his
book
and
a
candle,
and
Mary
writing
to
Sara.
November
16th.--
...
Wm.
is
now,
at
7
o'clock,
reading
Spenser.
Mary
is
writing
beside
me.
The
little
syke[38]
murmurs.[39a]
We
are
quiet
and
happy,
but
poor
Peggy
Ashburner
coughs,
as
if
she
would
cough
her
life
away.
I
am
going
to
write
to
Coleridge
and
Sara.
Poor
C.!
I
hope
he
was
in
London
yesterday....
[Footnote
38:
A
Cumberland
word
for
a
rillet.--ED.]
[Footnote
39a:
Probably
some
of
the
lines
afterwards
included
in
The
Excursion.--ED.]
Tuesday,
17th.--A
very
rainy
morning.
We
walked
into
Easedale
before
dinner.
The
coppices
a
beautiful
brown.
The
oaks
many,
a
very
fine
leafy
shade.
We
stood
a
long
time
to
look
at
the
corner
birch
tree.
The
wind
was
among
the
light
thin
twigs,
and
they
yielded
to
it,
this
way
and
that.
Wednesday,
18th.--We
sate
in
the
house
in
the
morning
reading
Spenser.
Wm.
and
Mary
walked
to
Rydale.
Very
pleasant
moonlight.
The
lakes
beautiful.
The
church
an
image
of
peace.
Wm.
wrote
some
lines
upon
it.[40]
Mary
and
I
walked
as
far
as
the
Wishing
Gate
before
supper.
We
stood
there
a
long
time,
the
whole
scene
impressive.
The
mountains
indistinct,
the
Lake
calm
and
partly
ruffled.
A
sweet
sound
of
water
falling
into
the
quiet
Lake.[39]
A
storm
was
gathering
in
Easedale,
so
we
returned;
but
the
moon
came
out,
and
opened
to
us
the
church
and
village.
Helm
Crag
in
shade,
the
larger
mountains
dappled
like
a
sky.
We
stood
long
upon
the
bridge.
Wished
for
Wm....
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