Resolution And Independence
I
There was a roaring in the wind all night;
The rain came heavily and fell in floods;
But now the sun is rising calm and bright;
The birds are singing in the distant woods;
Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods;
The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters;
And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters.
II
All things that love the sun are out of doors;
The sky rejoices in the morning's birth;
The grass is bright with rain-drops;--on the moors
The hare is running races in her mirth;
And with her feet she from the plashy earth
Raises a mist, that, glittering in the sun,
Runs with her all the way, wherever she doth run.
III
I was a Traveller then upon the moor,
I saw the hare that raced about with joy;
I heard the woods and distant waters roar;
Or heard them not, as happy as a boy:
The pleasant season did my heart employ:
My old remembrances went from me wholly;
And all the ways of men, so vain and melancholy.
IV
But, as it sometimes chanceth, from the might
Of joy in minds that can no further go,
As high as we have mounted in delight
In our dejection do we sink as low;
To me that morning did it happen so;
And fears and fancies thick upon me came;
Dim sadness--and blind thoughts, I knew not, nor could name.
V
I heard the sky-lark warbling in the sky;
And I bethought me of the playful hare:
Even such a happy Child of earth am I;
Even as these blissful creatures do I fare;
Far from the world I walk, and from all care;
But there may come another day to me--
Solitude, pain of heart, distress, and poverty.
VI
My whole life I have lived in pleasant thought,
As if life's business were a summer mood;
As if all needful things would come unsought
To genial faith, still rich in genial good;
But how can He expect that others should
Build for him, sow for him, and at his call
Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?
VII
I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy,
The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride;
Of Him who walked in glory and in joy
Following his plough, along the mountain-side:
By our own spirits are we deified:
We Poets in our youth begin in gladness;
But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
VIII
Now, whether it were by peculiar grace,
A leading from above, a something given,
Yet it befell, that, in this lonely place,
When I with these untoward thoughts had striven,
Beside a pool bare to the eye of heaven
I saw a Man before me unawares:
The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.
IX
As a huge stone is sometimes seen to lie
Couched on the bald top of an eminence;
Wonder to all who do the same espy,
By what means it could thither come, and whence;
So that it seems a thing endued with sense:
Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a shelf
Of rock or sand reposeth, there to sun itself;
X
Such seemed this Man, not all alive nor dead,
Nor all asleep--in his extreme old age:
His body was bent double, feet and head
Coming together in life's pilgrimage;
As if some dire constraint of pain, or rage
Of sickness felt by him in times long past,
A more than human weight upon his frame had cast.
XI
Himself he propped, limbs, body, and pale face,
Upon a long grey staff of shaven wood:
And, still as I drew near with gentle pace,
Upon the margin of that moorish flood
Motionless as a cloud the old Man stood,
That heareth not the loud winds when they call
And moveth all together, if it move at all.
XII
At length, himself unsettling, he the pond
Stirred with his staff, and fixedly did look
Upon the muddy water, which he conned,
As if he had been reading in a book:
And now a stranger's privilege I took;
And, drawing to his side, to him did say,
"This morning gives us promise of a glorious day."
XIII
A gentle answer did the old Man make,
In courteous speech which forth he slowly drew:
And him with further words I thus bespake,
"What occupation do you there pursue?
This is a lonesome place for one like you."
Ere he replied, a flash of mild surprise
Broke from the sable orbs of his yet-vivid eyes,
XIV
His words came feebly, from a feeble chest,
But each in solemn order followed each,
With something of a lofty utterance drest--
Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach
Of ordinary men; a stately speech;
Such as grave Livers do in Scotland use,
Religious men, who give to God and man their dues.
XV
He told, that to these waters he had come
To gather leeches, being old and poor:
Employment hazardous and wearisome!
And he had many hardships to endure:
From pond to pond he roamed, from moor to moor;
Housing, with God's good help, by choice or chance,
And in this way he gained an honest maintenance.
XVI
The old Man still stood talking by my side;
But now his voice to me was like a stream
Scarce heard; nor word from word could I divide;
And the whole body of the Man did seem
Like one whom I had met with in a dream;
Or like a man from some far region sent,
To give me human strength, by apt admonishment.
XVII
My former thoughts returned: the fear that kills;
And hope that is unwilling to be fed;
Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly ills;
And mighty Poets in their misery dead.
--Perplexed, and longing to be comforted,
My question eagerly did I renew,
"How is it that you live, and what is it you do?"
XVIII
He with a smile did then his words repeat;
And said, that, gathering leeches, far and wide
He travelled; stirring thus about his feet
The waters of the pools where they abide.
"Once I could meet with them on every side;
But they have dwindled long by slow decay;
Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may."
XIX
While he was talking thus, the lonely place,
The old Man's shape, and speech--all troubled me:
In my mind's eye I seemed to see him pace
About the weary moors continually,
Wandering about alone and silently.
While I these thoughts within myself pursued,
He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed.
XX
And soon with this he other matter blended,
Cheerfully uttered, with demeanour kind,
But stately in the main; and when he ended,
I could have laughed myself to scorn to find
In that decrepit Man so firm a mind.
"God," said I, "be my help and stay secure;
I'll think of the Leech-gatherer on the lonely moor!"
Literary Analysis
This literary analysis was generated with AI and may contain interpretive differences. Provide your analysis in the comments section.
Summary
Wordsworth begins in a landscape washed clean by storm, where rain, birds, and running water create a scene of renewal. Into that bright morning the poem introduces the wandering poet, who first feels restored by the natural world and then, almost against his will, falls into a downward spiral of reflection. The shift is crucial: the outward brightness of the moor gives way to inward uncertainty, and the poem becomes a record of how a mind can move from delight to dread in a single walk.
At the center stands the encounter with the leech-gatherer, an old, exhausted man working alone in a desolate place. The poet at first sees him as nearly unreal, even monumental, but the man's calm persistence gradually becomes the true focus of the poem. His steady labor, poverty, and endurance answer the poet's fears about age, hardship, and the fragility of genius. By the end, the leech-gatherer is less a curiosity than a moral presence: he gives the poet a model of patient survival, and the poem turns from self-doubt toward hard-won steadiness.
That movement also leaves an important tension unresolved. The poet is comforted, yet the comfort depends on an encounter that feels partly visionary, as if the old man were sent to him at the right moment. The poem therefore balances realistic social observation with spiritual revelation, and private anxiety with public need. Its lasting power lies in that balance: it insists that ordinary human endurance can be as sustaining as the natural world, but it also admits how easily the mind can lose its footing without such examples.
Theme
- Endurance in hardship - The leech-gatherer's life of poverty and constant movement becomes a lesson in perseverance, showing how dignity can survive even when a person is old, tired, and poor.
- Nature as emotional mirror - The bright moor, birdsong, and rain-washed morning first lift the poet's spirits, then reflect the instability of his own mind when the same landscape gives way to fear and melancholy.
- Fear of age and poverty - The poet's thoughts drift toward sickness, dependence, and want, revealing an anxiety that is not only personal but also bound to the human condition.
- The value of humble labor - The old man's work gathering leeches is dangerous and lowly, yet the poem treats it as honorable because it supports life through patient effort.
- Imagination and self-doubt - The poet's mind turns visionary, then unsettles itself with dark forebodings, suggesting that imagination can nourish and distress in equal measure.
- Moral instruction through encounter - The meeting on the moor functions like an unexpected lesson, where the poet learns steadiness not from argument but from presence.
- Human dignity - Although the leech-gatherer is physically broken and economically vulnerable, he is rendered with respect and even grandeur, emphasizing the inward strength of ordinary people.
Literary Devices
- Rhyme royal - The seven-line stanzas create a formal, measured movement that suits the poem's gradual shift from observation to meditation and then to consolation.
- Imagery - Vivid pictures of the storm, the hare, the moor, and the old man anchor the poem's abstract reflections in concrete visual experience.
- Simile - The leech-gatherer is compared to a stone, a sea-beast, and a cloud, enlarging him beyond ordinary appearance and making him seem elemental and enduring.
- Contrast - The poem repeatedly sets brightness against gloom, youth against age, and motion against stillness to sharpen its emotional turn.
- Personification - Nature is given lively human-like action in the opening, where sky, birds, and water seem animated, reinforcing the sense of a living world.
- Allusion - References to Chatterton and other figures widen the poem into a meditation on poetic fate, especially the link between genius, suffering, and decline.
- Blanketing repetition of thought - The speaker's recurring fears and return to the same question about livelihood create a circling, anxious rhythm that matches his state of mind.
- Enjambment - Sentences run across line endings, especially in moments of reflection, helping the poem feel like a mind thinking aloud rather than a fixed statement.
Symbolism
- The moor - The open, lonely moor symbolizes psychological exposure and the stripped-down conditions under which the poet confronts his fears.
- The leech-gatherer - He symbolizes endurance, modest labor, and the quiet authority of lived experience.
- The pool or muddy water - The still water can suggest uncertainty, self-scrutiny, and the murky state of the poet's mind before comfort arrives.
- The staff - The old man's staff suggests support, survival, and the need for something external to lean on in old age and hardship.
- The hare - The hare stands for natural joy and unthinking vitality, the kind of freedom the poet briefly shares before his mood darkens.
- The storm and clear morning - The weather change reflects the poem's movement from disturbance to temporary clarity and renewal.
Tone
Wordsworth's tone is reflective, searching, and finally chastened, as if he is trying to think his way out of a private crisis. The emotional atmosphere for the reader moves from freshness and calm into loneliness and unease, then settles into a quiet, hard-earned reassurance. Even when the poem becomes dark, it does not feel despairing in a final sense; instead, the mood is one of inward struggle that is gradually answered by respect for endurance and plain human courage.
Historical Context
This poem belongs to the Romantic era, when writers often turned to nature, individual feeling, and encounters with ordinary people as sources of insight. Wordsworth is especially associated with the idea that humble life and everyday speech can carry moral and poetic weight, and this poem reflects that belief in the respectful treatment of the leech-gatherer. The poem also shows the Romantic interest in the inner life: the landscape matters, but it matters most as it passes through a consciousness that is vulnerable, imaginative, and self-questioning.
Its concerns fit the broader world of early nineteenth-century literature, where poets frequently responded to social change, poverty, and the unstable place of the artist in society. The poem's mixture of natural scenery, philosophical reflection, and attention to a working poor figure is typical of Wordsworth's larger project of finding depth in ordinary experience while testing how far poetic imagination can sustain the mind under pressure.