Suggested in the wild hazel-wood at foot of Helm-Crag, where the stone still lies, with others of like form and character, though much of the wood that veiled it from the glare of day has been felled.  This beautiful ground was lately purchased by our friend, Mrs. Fletcher, the ancient owners, most respected persons, being obliged to part with it in consequence of the imprudence, if not misconduct, of a son.  It is gratifying to mention that instead of murmuring and repining at this change of fortune they offered their services to Mrs. Fletcher, the husband as an out-door labourer and the wife as a domestic servant.  I have witnessed the pride and pleasure with which the man worked at improvements of the ground round the house.  Indeed he expressed them to me himself, and the countenance and manner of his wife always denoted feelings of the same character.  I believe a similar disposition to contentment under change of fortune is common among the class to which these good people belong.  Yet, in proof that to part with their patrimony is most painful to them, I may refer to those stanzas entitled ‘Repentance,’ no inconsiderable part of which was taken verbatim from the language of the speaker himself. [In pencil—­Herself, M.N.]

205. *_Sonnet_ XI.

‘Dark and more dark,’ &c.

October 3d or 4th, 1802.  Composed after a journey over the Hambleton Hills, on a day memorable to me—­the day of my marriage.  The horizon commanded by those hills is most magnificent.

The next day, while we were travelling in a post-chaise up Wensley Dale, we were stopt by one of the horses proving restiff, and were obliged to wait two hours in a severe storm before the post-boy could fetch from the Inn another to supply its place.  The spot was in front of Bolton Hall, where Mary Queen of Scots was kept prisoner soon after her unfortunate landing at Workington.  The place then belonged to the Scroopes, and memorials of her are yet preserved there.  To beguile the time I composed a sonnet.  The subject was our own confinement contrasted with hers; but it was not thought worthy of being preserved.

206. *_Sonnet_ XIII.

‘While not a leaf,’ &c.

September 1815.  ‘For me, who under kindlier laws,’ &c. (l. 9).  This conclusion has more than once, to my great regret, excited painfully sad feelings in the hearts of young persons fond of poetry and poetic composition by contrast of their feeble and declining health with that state of robust constitution which prompted me to rejoice in a season of frost and snow as more favourable to the Muses than summer itself.

207. *_Sonnet_ XIV.

‘How clear, how keen,’ &c.

November 1st.  Suggested on the banks of the Brathay by the sight of Langdale Pikes.  It is delightful to remember those moments of far-distant days, which probably would have been forgotten if the impression had not been transferred to verse.  The same observation applies to the rest.