RESOLUTION AND INDEPENDENCE by William Wordsworth (Poem, Summary, Paraphrase & Analysis)

 

RESOLUTION AND INDEPENDENCE

by William Wordsworth

(Poem, Summary, Paraphrase & Analysis) 

RESOLUTION AND INDEPENDENCE

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.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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?

 

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.

 

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.

 

As a huge stone is sometimes seen to lie

Couch’d 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;

 

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.

 

Himself he propp’d, 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.

 

At length, himself unsettling, he the pond

Stirr’d with his staff, and fixedly did look

Upon the muddy water, which he conn’d,

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.”

 

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;

But soon they rested on me placidly:

His words came feebly, from a feeble chest,

But each in solemn order follow’d free;

“I gather leeches, far and wide I go;

My fare is scanty, and my lodging low;

 

“And some of you would call it hard, I know;

But I’ve been used to this for many a year;

For my kind Lord has thus relieved my woe.”

He with a patient voice did thus declare;

And I, not loth to bear what he could bear,

Bent down my ear to him, and took delight

To learn the course of his experience right.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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.

—Perplex’d, and longing to be comforted,

My question eagerly did I renew,

“How is it that you live, and what is it you do?”

 

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.”

 

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 renew’d.

 

And soon with this he other matter blended,

Cheerfully utter’d, with demeanour kind,

But stately in the main; and when he ended,

I could have laugh’d 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!”

 

Summary

William Wordsworth’s Resolution and Independence begins with a vivid description of a morning after a night of heavy rain and roaring wind. The scene opens with the sun rising calm and bright, birds singing in the distance, and the air filled with the pleasant noise of flowing waters. Creatures that love the sunlight are outside; the grass sparkles with raindrops, and a hare runs joyfully over the moors, kicking up mist in her playful races. The narrator, traveling on the moor, feels carefree, like a happy boy, absorbed in the beauty of the morning. For a time, all troubling memories and thoughts of human life vanish.

However, his mood changes abruptly. He experiences a sudden drop in spirits, a shift from joy to a deep sadness filled with vague fears and nameless, troubling thoughts. This change reminds him that, just as joy can reach great heights, sorrow can fall to great depths. He compares himself to the skylark and hare, noting that although he is as free from care in that moment, a time might come when he too will face solitude, hardship, and poverty. He reflects on how his life has been spent in pleasant thoughts, assuming that all necessities would come to him naturally through faith and goodwill. But he questions how anyone could be expected to support or love a man who does not take care of his own needs.

His thoughts turn to the poet Thomas Chatterton, the “marvellous boy” who died young and proud, and to Robert Burns, who worked joyfully in the fields yet also met with hardship. Wordsworth observes that poets begin their lives in gladness but often end in despondency and madness. As these reflections trouble him, he suddenly notices an old man standing beside a small pool. The man appears to be the oldest he has ever seen, bent double with age, leaning on a long staff. He is motionless, like a stone on a hilltop or a sea creature resting on a rock.

Approaching gently, Wordsworth watches the old man stir the muddy water with his staff and study it intently. Seizing the opportunity to speak, the narrator greets him, remarking on the fine day. The man responds politely, and Wordsworth asks what he is doing in such a lonely place. The old man answers slowly, revealing that he is a leech-gatherer. He explains that he travels far and wide to collect leeches, a task that is both hazardous and tiring, but it is how he earns his living. Though the work is hard and the reward small, he has endured it for many years, trusting in God’s help.

The old man recounts how he moves from pond to pond and moor to moor, enduring the hardships of weather and terrain to find leeches. Wordsworth listens closely, picturing him roaming continually over the desolate moors. At one point, the man’s voice becomes like a faint stream in Wordsworth’s ears, and the narrator feels as though he is in a dream, confronted by a figure sent from some far-off place to give him strength and instruction.

Wishing for reassurance, Wordsworth asks again how the man lives. The leech-gatherer repeats his earlier explanation and adds that leeches are now scarce compared to the past, yet he persists in seeking them wherever they can be found. This quiet persistence impresses Wordsworth deeply. The man blends his account with other cheerful yet dignified remarks, displaying an unshaken spirit despite his hardships.

The poem closes with Wordsworth expressing his resolution. He feels humbled and inspired by the old man’s example of steady endurance. Determined to face his own future trials with similar courage, he resolves to remember the leech-gatherer on the lonely moor whenever fear or melancholy threatens to overcome him.

 

Paraphrase

The wind howled all night, and heavy rain poured in torrents. But now the morning is calm and bright as the sun rises. Birds sing in the distant woods—over the sound of his own cooing, the stock-dove listens, the jay answers back, and the magpie chatters. The air is filled with the cheerful sounds of running water.

Everything that loves the sunlight is outside. The sky seems to celebrate the new day. The grass sparkles with raindrops. On the open moors, a hare runs in joyful races. Her feet lift up sprays of wet mist from the soft earth, and the glittering vapor runs along beside her wherever she goes.

At that time, I was traveling across the moor. I saw the happy hare leaping around. I heard the sound of the woods and far-off waters—or sometimes I heard nothing at all, just enjoying myself like a carefree boy. The beauty of the season completely occupied my mind. I forgot all past troubles and the sad and vain ways of human life.

But sometimes, when the mind has reached its highest point of joy, it suddenly falls into an equal depth of sadness. That happened to me that morning. Dark, shapeless fears and heavy thoughts came into my mind—sadness and worries I couldn’t clearly understand or name.

I heard a skylark singing high in the air, and I thought about the playful hare. I felt like I was a happy child of nature too, living as freely as those creatures. Yet I realized there could come a day for me when I would face loneliness, a broken heart, distress, and poverty.

All my life I had lived in happy thoughts, as though life were always like summer, and as though all I needed would come to me without my seeking it—through the generosity of faith and goodness. But then I thought, how can a person expect others to build for him, sow for him, and love him if he will not take care of himself?

I remembered Chatterton, the brilliant young poet who died proudly but tragically. I also thought of Burns, who walked joyfully behind his plough but later met with troubles. Poets, I reflected, start their youth with joy and inspiration, but too often end in despair and even madness.

Then, as though guided by some special grace or higher power, I saw, beside a pool open to the sky, an old man I had not noticed before. He seemed the oldest man I had ever seen.

He reminded me of a huge stone lying on the bare top of a hill—something strange and immovable, like a sea creature that has crawled up on a rock to bask in the sun.

He was not fully alive or dead, not entirely awake or asleep. His extreme old age had bent his body double, his feet and head almost meeting. It was as if some great burden of pain, sickness, or suffering long ago had pressed him down beyond ordinary human strength.

He leaned his limbs, body, and pale face on a long grey wooden staff. As I came closer, he stood motionless at the edge of the dark water—still like a cloud that ignores the loud wind and moves only if it must.

Finally, he shifted and stirred the water with his staff, looking into the muddy pool as if reading a book. I took the chance to speak and said, “This morning looks like it will be a beautiful day.”

He gave me a gentle reply, speaking slowly and politely. I asked him what he was doing there, since this was such a lonely place for someone like him.

Before answering, a flicker of mild surprise lit his still-bright eyes. Then he looked at me calmly and began to speak. He said he was a leech-gatherer, traveling far and wide to collect leeches. His work was dangerous and exhausting, but it was how he earned his living. He was old and poor, yet had been doing this for many years, relying on God’s help to carry on.

He explained how he went from pond to pond and moor to moor, enduring hardship but managing to make an honest living.

As he spoke, his voice became like a faint stream in my ears, and his whole figure seemed dreamlike—like someone sent from far away to give me strength and advice.

My earlier fears returned, so I asked him again how he lived. Smiling, he repeated that he still gathered leeches, though they were harder to find now. Once they were plentiful everywhere, but they had slowly declined over the years. Still, he persevered, finding them wherever he could.

The old man continued to talk, mixing in other cheerful and kindly words, though his manner remained dignified. I was amazed to find such strength of mind in someone so physically frail.

Finally, I thought to myself, “God be my help and firm support; whenever I face trouble or fear, I will remember the leech-gatherer on the lonely moor.”

 

Analysis in Detail

William Wordsworth’s Resolution and Independence, first published in 1807, stands as one of his most profound meditations on the relationship between human emotion, nature, and moral fortitude. It is both an autobiographical confession of the poet’s own mental struggles and a philosophical reflection on the nature of endurance. The poem is sometimes referred to by its early title, The Leech-Gatherer, after the mysterious old man who serves as its central figure. Wordsworth weaves together vivid landscape imagery, shifts in mood, and a deeply symbolic encounter to create a narrative that is at once personal and universal.

 

1. Structure and Form

The poem is written in thirty-seven seven-line stanzas, following the rhyme scheme ABABBCC, a variation of the rhyme royal form. This choice gives the poem a stately, almost medieval cadence, which suits its reflective and moral tone. Wordsworth maintains a measured pace, balancing long, descriptive sentences with abrupt, emotive lines that reveal moments of personal anxiety. The use of rhyme royal lends an air of dignity and permanence, reinforcing the theme of resilience.

 

2. Shifts in Tone and Emotional Journey

The poem begins with Wordsworth’s joyous description of a morning after a storm, a scene full of freshness, clarity, and promise. The opening stanzas celebrate the restorative beauty of nature—bright sunshine, singing birds, and the glistening moor. However, as the speaker reflects inwardly, the mood shifts abruptly from celebration to apprehension. Wordsworth recalls the fate of other poets—Chatterton and Burns—whose lives ended in despair, poverty, or illness. This reflection triggers his own fear of artistic and emotional decline. The transition from external beauty to internal unease demonstrates how quickly human joy can be overshadowed by doubt.

 

3. The Symbolism of the Leech-Gatherer

The turning point of the poem comes when the speaker encounters an old man wandering the moors. Bent, weathered, and dressed in tattered clothes, this man earns a living by collecting leeches—a slow, solitary, and often unrewarding occupation. His presence is almost spectral, and Wordsworth’s initial reaction mixes curiosity with pity. Yet, as the poet listens to the old man’s simple account of his work, admiration begins to replace condescension. The leech-gatherer becomes a living emblem of perseverance, a man who endures hardship without complaint, moving forward through life with quiet dignity.

 

4. Themes

At its core, the poem explores perseverance, moral strength, and the human capacity to endure adversity. Wordsworth contrasts his own fluctuating moods with the leech-gatherer’s steadfastness. The man’s life embodies what Wordsworth himself seeks—a calm resolution in the face of inevitable suffering. Nature plays a dual role here: initially as a source of joy, but also as a setting that can mirror human uncertainty. The poem’s title, Resolution and Independence, reflects this duality: “resolution” for the moral firmness the speaker desires, and “independence” for the self-reliant spirit of the old man.

 

5. Nature and the Human Mind

While much of Wordsworth’s poetry portrays nature as an unfailing source of joy and moral guidance, this poem acknowledges that the mind can impose its own darkness, even in the most beautiful surroundings. The tension between the bright morning landscape and the poet’s sudden melancholy underscores that human well-being depends on inner stability as much as on external beauty. The leech-gatherer, existing in perfect accord with his humble place in the natural world, represents that inner steadiness.

 

6. Style and Language

Wordsworth employs a blend of plainspoken dialogue and elevated description. The descriptive passages are rich with visual and auditory imagery—sunlight “bright as with a smile of light” and the “stormy pleasure” of the moor—while the leech-gatherer’s speech is stark, unadorned, and entirely practical. This contrast between poetic flourish and simple speech reinforces the moral lesson: wisdom often comes in humble, unpretentious forms. The diction is accessible, but the syntax and rhythm give the work a meditative gravity.

 

7. Moral Reflection

The closing stanzas express Wordsworth’s desire to remember the example of the leech-gatherer in his own moments of doubt or fear. The old man’s patience becomes a mental touchstone—a reminder that steadfast labor and acceptance of life’s hardships are the surest safeguards against despair. The encounter transforms the poet’s state of mind: he moves from self-absorbed worry to a renewed sense of purpose.

In essence, Resolution and Independence is not simply a nature poem or a character sketch—it is a spiritual exercise in self-correction. The poet, caught between the elation of nature’s beauty and the weight of his own forebodings, finds in a humble stranger the living image of the virtues he wishes to cultivate. Through this meeting, Wordsworth articulates one of his enduring beliefs: that ordinary lives, lived with quiet perseverance, contain a moral grandeur equal to that found in any heroic tale.