Analysis of Book Eleventh: France [concluded]

William Wordsworth 1770 (Wordsworth House) – 1850 (Cumberland)



FROM that time forth, Authority in France
Put on a milder face; Terror had ceased,
Yet everything was wanting that might give
Courage to them who looked for good by light
Of rational Experience, for the shoots
And hopeful blossoms of a second spring:
Yet, in me, confidence was unimpaired;
The Senate's language, and the public acts
And measures of the Government, though both
Weak, and of heartless omen, had not power
To daunt me; in the People was my trust:
And, in the virtues which mine eyes had seen,
I knew that wound external could not take
Life from the young Republic; that new foes
Would only follow, in the path of shame,
Their brethren, and her triumphs be in the end
Great, universal, irresistible.
This intuition led me to confound
One victory with another, higher far,--
Triumphs of unambitious peace at home,
And noiseless fortitude. Beholding still
Resistance strong as heretofore, I thought
That what was in degree the same was likewise
The same in quality,--that, as the worse
Of the two spirits then at strife remained
Untired, the better, surely, would preserve
The heart that first had roused him. Youth maintains,
In all conditions of society,
Communion more direct and intimate
With Nature,--hence, ofttimes, with reason too--
Than age or manhood, even. To Nature, then,
Power had reverted: habit, custom, law,
Had left an interregnum's open space
For 'her' to move about in, uncontrolled.
Hence could I see how Babel-like their task,
Who, by the recent deluge stupified,
With their whole souls went culling from the day
Its petty promises, to build a tower
For their own safety; laughed with my compeers
At gravest heads, by enmity to France
Distempered, till they found, in every blast
Forced from the street-disturbing newsman's horn,
For her great cause record or prophecy
Of utter ruin. How might we believe
That wisdom could, in any shape, come near
Men clinging to delusions so insane?
And thus, experience proving that no few
Of our opinions had been just, we took
Like credit to ourselves where less was due,
And thought that other notions were as sound
Yea, could not but be right, because we saw
That foolish men opposed them.
To a strain
More animated I might here give way,
And tell, since juvenile errors are my theme,
What in those days, through Britain, was performed
To turn 'all' judgments out of their right course;
But this is passion over-near ourselves,
Reality too close and too intense,
And intermixed with something, in my mind,
Of scorn and condemnation personal,
That would profane the sanctity of verse.
Our Shepherds, this say merely, at that time
Acted, or seemed at least to act, like men
Thirsting to make the guardian crook of law
A tool of murder; they who ruled the State--
Though with such awful proof before their eyes
That he, who would sow death, reaps death, or worse,
And can reap nothing better--child-like longed
To imitate, not wise enough to avoid;
Or left (by mere timidity betrayed)
The plain straight road, for one no better chosen
Than if their wish had been to undermine
Justice, and make an end of Liberty.

But from these bitter truths I must return
To my own history. It hath been told
That I was led to take an eager part
In arguments of civil polity,
Abruptly, and indeed before my time:
I had approached, like other youths, the shield
Of human nature from the golden side,
And would have fought, even to the death, to attest
The quality of the metal which I saw.
What there is best in individual man,
Of wise in passion, and sublime in power,
Benevolent in small societies,
And great in large ones, I had oft revolved,
Felt deeply, but not thoroughly understood
By reason: nay, far from it; they were yet,
As cause was given me afterwards to learn,
Not proof against the injuries of the day;
Lodged only at the sanctuary's door,
Not safe within its bosom. Thus prepared,
And with such general insight into evil,
And of the bounds which sever it from good,
As books and common intercourse with life
Must needs have given--to the inexperienced mind,
When the world travels in a beaten road,
Guide faithful as is needed--I began
To meditate with ardour on the rule
And management of nations; what it is
And ought to be; and strove to learn how far
Their power or weakness, wealth or poverty,
Their happiness or misery, depends
Upon their laws, and fashion of the State.

O pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
Upon our sid


Scheme ABXXXXCXXDXXXXXXEFGXHXIJXXXKXLMNXOXBPDAAXXKXXQLXLFNXQPXXXXXRHJSMNTIJXXXXXK UOXKSXXXNVDXXWXUPXCEWXRXVXXGKXT XWX
Poetic Form
Metre 1111010001 1101011011 110110111 1011111111 11000100101 0101010101 101100101 0101000101 0101010011 10110101110 1110010111 0001011111 1111010111 1101010111 1101000111 11000101001 10100100 101011101 11001010101 1011111 01100101 010110111 1110010111 0101001101 1011011101 101010101 0111111101 0101010100 0101010100 110111101 1111101101 10101010101 1111101 101101001 1111110111 11010101 1111110101 11010011010 111101111 1101110011 111101001 110101011 1011011100 1101011101 1101010111 1101010101 01010010111 11001011111 11010011111 0111010011 1111110111 1101011 101 110011111 01110010111 1011110101 1111011111 11110101001 10110101 001110011 110010100 1101010011 10101110111 1011111111 1110100111 0111011101 1111010111 1111111111 0111010111 1101101101 1111010001 01111111010 111111110 1001111100 1111011101 1111001111 1111111101 0100110100 0100010111 1101110101 1101010101 011110101101 01001010111 1111001001 11010001010 0100010100 0101111101 1101110001 1101111101 11110110011 11010100101 1101011 1101110101 01110010110 0101110111 110101011 1111010001001 1011000101 1101110101 11011101 0100110111 0111011111 11011011100 1100110001 0111010101 110101101 110001111 01101
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 4,346
Words 779
Sentences 16
Stanzas 3
Stanza Lengths 74, 31, 3
Lines Amount 108
Letters per line (avg) 32
Words per line (avg) 7
Letters per stanza (avg) 1,169
Words per stanza (avg) 259
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on May 02, 2023

3:55 min read
125

William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth was the husband of Eva Bartok. more…

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