THE FINAL WORDSWORTH
[To the Editor of THE SPECTATOR] Sta,—Your reviewer's words that the later letters of Words- worth contain—" remarks on his own poetry ; glimpses of his kindness to young writers who sent him their poems "—are borne out by a letter which I have in my possession written by the poet to my grandfather, William Mason, the young Vicar of Normanton, in October, 1846.
I venture to send you a copy.
Rydal Mount, Ambleside.
DEAR SIR,
Allow me to thank you for your spirited verses, and the compli- ment they convey. It was expedient that some melancholy objects should be encountered in my voyage as a set off to the rest, and therefore Saturn was naturally enough selected, though perhaps with some injustice. Hoping that my poetry may continue to interest you as you in so lively a manner describe,
I remain, dear Sir, Your obliged WM. WORDSWORTH.
The last of the "spirited verses," which were dedicated "to the Poet Wordsworth on a passage in the Prologue to Peter Bell," runs thus :
"Sweet Poet of the Crescent Boat,
I love thy tale of Peter Bell, And all of thine I ever read Improves the heart, informs the head.
Sweet moralist, fare well."
This mention of "the Crescent Boat" recalls the opening stanzas of the Prologue, which—written in 1819—might well find a place in a Victorian "Anthology of Flight ":
"There's something in a flying horse, There's something in a huge balloon ; But through the clouds I'll never float Until I have a little Boat For shape just like the Crescent-moon.
"Up goes my Boat among the Stars Through many a breathless field of light, Through many a long blue field of ether, Leaving ten thousand stars beneath her ; Up goes my little Boat so bright."
Harmony Hill, Reigate.
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