VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1807.
... with transports of your own. C.
... with transport of your noise! 1838.
The edition of 1840 returns to the text of 1807.]
[Variant 2:
1807.
The loss and e"en the prospect of the slain, MS. 1803.
And in "The Poetical Register", 1803.
And prospect of our Brethren to be slain, MS. 1803.]
[Variant 3:
1807.
True glory, everlasting sanct.i.ty. MS. 1803.
And in "The Poetical Register", 1803.]
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: _i. e._ in the edition of 1807, but this sonnet was previously printed in 1803 in "The Poetical Register", vol. iii. p. 340, in the "Anti-Gallican" (1804), and in the "Poetical Repository"
(1805).--Ed.]
This sonnet, as the t.i.tle indicates, does not refer to an actual victory; because, since the Norman conquest, no "Invaders" have ever set foot "on British ground." It was written--like the two preceding sonnets, and the one that follows it--"in antic.i.p.ation" of Napoleon"s project for the invasion of England being actually carried out; a project never realised. The a.s.sembling of the immense French army destined for this purpose--one of the finest brought together since the days of the Roman legions--between the mouths of the Seine and the Texel, roused the spirit of English patriotism as it had never been roused before. Three hundred thousand volunteers were enlisted in Great Britain by the 10th of August 1803;
"all the male population of the kingdom from seventeen years of age to fifty-five were divided into cla.s.ses to be successively armed and exercised" (Dyer).
The story of the failure of Napoleon"s scheme is too well known to be repeated in this note. Wordsworth seems to have written his sonnet in antic.i.p.ation of what he believed would have been the inevitable issue of events, had the French army actually landed on British soil.--Ed.
LINES ON THE EXPECTED INVASION
1803
Composed 1803.--Published 1842
Included among the "Poems dedicated to National Independence and Liberty."--Ed.
Come ye--who, if (which Heaven avert!) the Land Were with herself at strife, would take your stand, Like gallant Falkland, by the Monarch"s side, And, like Montrose, make Loyalty your pride-- Come ye--who, not less zealous, might display 5 Banners at enmity with regal sway, And, like the Pyms and Miltons of that day, Think that a State would live in sounder health If Kingship bowed its head to Commonwealth-- Ye too--whom no discreditable fear 10 Would keep, perhaps with many a fruitless tear, Uncertain what to choose and how to steer-- And ye--who might mistake for sober sense And wise reserve the plea of indolence-- Come ye--whate"er your creed--O waken all, 15 Whate"er your temper, at your Country"s call; Resolving (this a free-born Nation can) To have one Soul, and perish to a man, Or save this honoured Land from every Lord But British reason and the British sword. 20