“September 18, 1803.—­We left the Tweed when we were within about a mile and a half or two miles of Clovenford, where we were to lodge.  Turned up the side of a hill, and went along sheep-grounds till we reached the spot—­a single stone house, without a tree near it or to be seen from it.  On our mentioning Mr. Scott’s name, the woman of the house showed us all possible civility, but her slowness was really amusing.  I should suppose it a house little frequented, for there is no appearance of an inn.  Mr. Scott, who she told me was a very clever gentleman, ‘goes there in the fishing season;’ but indeed Mr. Scott is respected everywhere; I believe that by favour of his name one might be hospitably entertained throughout all the borders of Scotland.  We dined and drank tea—­did not walk out, for there was no temptation; a confined barren prospect from the window.

“At Clovenford, being so near to the Yarrow, we could not but think of the possibility of going thither, but came to the conclusion of reserving the pleasure for some future time, in consequence of which, after our return, William wrote the poem which I shall here transcribe.”

(From Dorothy Wordsworth’s ‘Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland’, 1803.)—­Ed.

* * * * *

THE MATRON OF JEDBOROUGH AND HER HUSBAND

Composed between 1803 and 1805.—­Published 1807

At Jedborough we went into private Lodgings for a few days; and the following Verses were called forth by the character, and domestic situation, of our Hostess.—­W.  W. 1807.

One of the “Poems referring to the Period of Old Age” in 1815 and 1820.—­Ed.

  Age! twine thy brows with fresh spring flowers,
  And call a train of laughing Hours;
  And bid them dance, and bid them sing;
  And thou, too, mingle in the ring! 
  Take to thy heart a new delight; 5
  If not, make merry in despite
  That [1] there is One who scorns thy power:—­
  But dance! for under Jedborough Tower,
  A Matron dwells who, though she bears
  The weight of more than seventy years, 10
  Lives in the light of youthful glee, [2]
  And she will dance and sing with thee.

    Nay! start not at that Figure—­there! 
  Him who is rooted to his chair! 
  Look at him—­look again! for he 15
  Hath long been of thy family. 
  With legs that move not, if they can,
  And useless arms, a trunk of man,
  He sits, and with a vacant eye;
  A sight to make a stranger sigh! 20
  Deaf, drooping, that is now his doom: 
  His world is in this single room: 
  Is this a place for mirthful cheer? [3]
  Can merry-making enter here? [A]