230. *_Sonnet_ XXIV.

‘Go, faithful Tishart,’ &c.

The six last lines of this sonnet are not written for poetical effect, but as a matter of fact, which in more than one instance could not escape my notice in the servants of the house.

231. *_Sonnet_ XXV.

‘Why art thou silent?’

In the month of January [blank], when Dora and I were walking from Town-End, Grasmere, across the vale, snow being on the ground, she espied in the thick though leafless hedge a bird’s-nest half filled with snow.  Out of this comfortless appearance arose this Sonnet, which was, in fact, written without the least reference to any individual object, but merely to prove to myself that I could, if I thought fit, write in a strain that poets have been fond of.  On the 14th of February in the same year, my daughter, in a sportive mood, sent it as a Valentine under a fictitious name to her cousin C. W.

232. *_Sonnet_ XXVI.

‘Haydon! let worthier judges,’ &c.

This Sonnet, though said to be written on seeing the portrait of Napoleon, was in fact composed some time after, extempore, in Rydal Mount. [In pencil—­But it was said in prose in Haydon’s studio, for I was present:  relate the facts and why it was versified.]

233. *_Sonnet_ XXVII.

‘A poet!—­He hath put,’ &c.

I was impelled to write this Sonnet by the disgusting frequency with which the word artistical, imported with other impertinencies from the Germans, is employed by writers of the present day.  For ‘artistical’ let them substitute ‘artificial,’ and the poetry written on this system, both at home and abroad, will be, for the most part, much better characterised.

234. *_Sonnet_ XXVIII.

‘The most alluring clouds,’ &c.

Hundreds of times have I seen hanging about and above the Vale of Rydal, clouds that might have given birth to this Sonnet; which was thrown off, on the impulse of the moment, one evening when I was returning home from the favourite walk of ours along the Rotha, under Loughrigg.

235. *_Sonnet_ XXIX.

‘By Art’s bold privilege,’ &c.

This was composed while I was ascending Helvelyn in company with my daughter and her husband.  She was on horseback, and rode to the very top of the hill without once dismounting:  a feat which it was scarcely possible to perform except during a season of dry weather, and a guide with whom we fell in on the mountain told us he believed it had never been accomplished before by any one.

236. *_Sonnet_ XXXII.

‘All praise the likeness,’ &c.

The picture which gave occasion to this and the following Sonnet was from the pencil of Miss M. Gillies, who resided for several weeks under our roof at Rydal Mount.

237. *_Sonnet_ XXXVI.

‘Oh, what a wreck,’ &c.

The sad condition of poor Mrs. Southey put me upon writing this.  It has afforded comfort to many persons whose friends have been similarly affected.