Lucy Gray. William Wordsworth

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      Theodor Boder

      Lucy Gray

      Fiktive Rekonstruktion der Hintergründe und Ereignisse

      zu einem Gedicht von William Wordsworth

      Theodor Boder Verlag

      Impressum

      ebook, Juni 2020

      Erstausgabe

      Copyright © 2017 by Theodor Boder Verlag,

      CH-4322 Mumpf

      Alle Rechte vorbehalten

      Covergestaltung: Theodor Boder

      Illustrationen: Roloff

      ISBN 978-3-9521993-5-0

      www.boderverlag.ch

      Handlungsort

      NORD-YORKSHIRE

      Zeit:

      1799

      DAS GEDICHT

      Lucy Gray; or, Solitude

      *

      Oft I heard of Lucy Gray:

      And, when I crossed the wild,

      I chanced to see at break of day

      The solitary child.

      *

      No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;

      She dwelt on a wide moor,

      – The sweetest thing that ever grew

      Beside a human door!

      *

      You yet may spy the fawn at play,

      The hare upon the green;

      But the sweet face of Lucy Gray

      Will never more be seen.

      *

      “To-night will be a stormy night –

      You to the town must go;

      And take a lantern, Child, to light

      Your mother through the snow.”

      *

      “That, Father! will I gladly do:

      ’Tis scarcely afternoon –

      The minster-clock has just struck two,

      And yonder is the moon!”

      *

      At this the Father raised his hook,

      And snapped a faggot-band;

      He plied his work; – and Lucy took

      The lantern in her hand.

      *

      Not blither is the mountain roe:

      With many a wanton stroke

      Her feet disperse the powdery snow,

      That rises up like smoke.

      *

      The storm came on before its time:

      She wandered up and down;

      And many a hill did Lucy climb:

      But never reached the town.

      *

      The wretched parents all that night

      Went shouting far and wide;

      But there was neither sound nor sight

      To serve them for a guide.

      *

      At day-break on a hill they stood

      That overlooked the moor;

      And thence they saw the bridge of wood,

      A furlong from their door.

      *

      They wept – and, turning homeward, cried,

      “In heaven we all shall meet;”

      – When in the snow the mother spied

      The print of Lucy’s feet.

      *

      Then downwards from the steep hill’s edge

      They tracked the footmarks small;

      And through the broken hawthorn hedge,

      And by the long stone-wall;

      *

      And then an open field they crossed:

      The marks were still the same;

      They tracked them on, nor ever lost;

      And to the bridge they came.

      *

      They followed from the snowy bank

      Those footmarks, one by one,

      Into the middle of the plank;

      And further there were none!

      *

      – Yet some maintain that to this day

      She is a living child;

      That you may see sweet Lucy Gray

      Upon the lonesome wild.

      *

      O’er rough and smooth she trips along,

      And never looks behind;

      And sings a solitary song

      That whistles in the wind.

      *

      Composed 1799,