What, if through the frozen centre
  Of the Alps the Chamois bound, 10
  Yet he has a home to enter
  In some nook of chosen ground:  [2]

  And the Sea-horse, though the ocean
  Yield him no domestic cave,
  Slumbers without sense of motion, 15
  Couched upon the rocking wave. [3]

  If on windy days the Raven
  Gambol like a dancing skiff,
  Not the less she loves her haven [4]
  In [5] the bosom of the cliff. [A] 20

  The fleet Ostrich, till day closes,
  Vagrant over desert sands,
  Brooding on her eggs reposes
  When chill night that care demands. [6]

  Day and night my toils redouble, 25
  Never nearer to the goal;
  Night and day, I feel the trouble
  Of the Wanderer in my soul. [7]

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:  This stanza was added in the edition of 1827.]

[Variant 2: 

1827.

  Though almost with eagle pinion
  O’er the rocks the Chamois roam,
  Yet he has some small dominion
  Which no doubt he calls his home. 1800.

  Though, as if with eagle pinion
  O’er the rocks the Chamois roam,
  Yet he has some small dominion
  Where he feels himself at home. 1815.]

[Variant 3: 

1836.

  Though the Sea-horse in the ocean
  Own no dear domestic cave;
  Yet he slumbers without motion
  On the calm and silent wave. 1800.

  Yet he slumbers—­by the motion
  Rocked of many a gentle wave. 1827.]

[Variant 4: 

1827.

  ... he loves his haven 1800.]

[Variant 5: 

1815.

  On ... 1800.]

[Variant 6:  This stanza was added in 1827.]

[Variant 7: 

1800.

  Never—­never does the trouble
  Of the Wanderer leave my soul. 1815.

The text of 1827 returns to that of 1800.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A:  In the editions of 1800 to 1832 stanzas 4 and 5 were transposed.  Their present order was adjusted in the edition of 1836.—­Ed.]

* * * * *

THE BROTHERS [A]

Composed 1800. [B]—­Published 1800

[This poem was composed in a grove at the north-eastern end of Grasmere lake, which grove was in a great measure destroyed by turning the high road along the side of the water.  The few trees that are left were spared at my intercession.  The poem arose out of the fact, mentioned to me at Ennerdale, that a shepherd had fallen asleep upon the top of the rock called the Pillar, and perished as here described, his staff being left midway on the rock.—­I.  F.]