To Joanna by William Wordsworth (Poem, Summary, Paraphrase & Analysis)

 

To Joanna

by William Wordsworth

(Poem, Summary, Paraphrase & Analysis) 

To Joanna

Amid the smoke of cities did you pass

Your time of early youth, and there you learnt,

From years of quiet industry, to love

The living Beings by your own fireside,

With such a strong devotion, that your heart

Is slow towards the sympathies of them

Who look upon the hills with tenderness,

And make dear friendships with the streams and groves.

Yet we, who are transgressors in this kind,

Dwelling retired in our simplicity

Among the woods and fields, we love you well,

Joanna! and I guess, since you have been

So distant from us now for two long years,

That you will gladly listen to discourse

However trivial, if you thence are taught

That they, with whom you once were happy, talk

Familiarly of you and of old times.

 

While I was seated, now some ten days past,

Beneath those lofty firs, that overtop

Their ancient neighbour, the old steeple-tower,

The Vicar from his gloomy house hard by

Came forth to greet me, and when he had asked,

“How fares Joanna, that wild-hearted Maid!

And when will she return to us?” he paused,

And after short exchange of village news,

He with grave looks demanded, for what cause,

Reviving obsolete Idolatry,

I, like a Runic Priest, in characters

Of formidable size, had chiselled out

Some uncouth name upon the native rock,

Above the Rotha, by the forest-side.

 

—Now, by those dear immunities of heart

Engender’d betwixt malice and true love,

I was not loth to be so catechiz’d,

And this was my reply.—“As it befel,

One summer morning we had walk’d abroad

At break of day, Joanna and myself.

—‘Twas that delightful season, when the broom,

Full flower’d, and visible on every steep,

Along the copses runs in veins of gold.

 

Our pathway led us on to Rotha’s banks,

And when we came in front of that tall rock

Which looks towards the East, I there stopp’d short,

And trac’d the lofty barrier with my eye

From base to summit; such delight I found

To note in shrub and tree, in stone and flower,

That intermixture of delicious hues,

Along so vast a surface, all at once,

In one impression, by connecting force

Of their own beauty, imagin’d in the heart.

 

—When I had gazed perhaps two minutes’ space,

Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld

That ravishment of mine, and laugh’d aloud.

The rock, like something starting from a sleep,

Took up the Lady’s voice, and laugh’d again:

That ancient Woman seated on Helm-crag

Was ready with her cavern; Hammar-Scar,

And the tall Steep of Silver-How sent forth

A noise of laughter; southern Loughrigg heard.

And Fairfield answer’d with a mountain tone:

Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky

Carried the Lady’s voice,—old Skiddaw blew.”

 

Summary

William Wordsworth’s poem To Joanna begins by recalling Joanna’s early years, which were spent in the city. There, surrounded by the smoke of urban life, she had grown accustomed to the warmth and intimacy of her home, cherishing her family and household life with strong devotion. Because of this upbringing, she did not naturally share the same depth of affection for hills, woods, and streams as those who had grown up close to nature. Still, the poet assures her that she is deeply loved by him and his rural companions, even though she has been absent for two years. He believes she would be glad to hear even trivial news if it reminded her of the people and places she once enjoyed.

The poet then recalls a particular moment, beginning with an encounter with the local vicar near a steeple-tower shaded by tall fir trees. The vicar, emerging from his gloomy house, asked how Joanna was doing and when she might return. After exchanging village news, the vicar questioned Wordsworth about why he had carved a strange name into the rock above the River Rotha, as if reviving some ancient, superstitious practice.

Wordsworth then explains the story behind the carving. One summer morning, he and Joanna had gone walking very early in the day. It was the season when the broom was in full golden bloom, covering the hillsides and copses with brilliant colour. Their walk brought them to the banks of the River Rotha, where they stopped in front of a tall rock that faced eastward. Wordsworth paused, carefully tracing the rock’s height and surface with his eyes, delighting in the sight of its mixture of shrubs, trees, stones, and flowers. Their combined beauty struck him powerfully, as though it formed a single, harmonious impression upon his heart.

While he stood in silent admiration, Joanna looked into his eyes and saw the rapture he felt. Amused, she laughed aloud. That laugh echoed off the rock as though the stone itself were laughing in reply. The sound spread outward, caught up and reflected by the surrounding landscape. Helm-crag, with its cavernous hollows, joined in with a response, and the heights of Hammar-scar and Silver-How answered with their own laughter. Southern Loughrigg heard it, and the great mountain Fairfield replied with its deep tone. The echo carried even farther, as Helvellyn bore Joanna’s voice upward into the clear blue sky, and at last Skiddaw, the distant peak, seemed to blow the sound across the air.

Thus, Wordsworth explains to Joanna that this joyful moment between them, marked by her laughter and the mountains’ resounding echoes, inspired him to carve her name upon the rock. The memory of that scene remained vivid, and the land itself seemed to bear witness to her presence and their shared experience.

 

Line-by-line Paraphrase

Amid the smoke of cities did you pass

-> You spent your early years living in the smoky, crowded cities,

 

Your time of early youth, and there you learnt,

-> and in those days of your youth, you learned

 

From years of quiet industry, to love

-> through steady, quiet living, to deeply value

 

The living Beings by your own fireside,

-> the family and companions who shared your home.

 

With such a strong devotion, that your heart

-> You grew so devoted to them, that your heart

 

Is slow towards the sympathies of them

-> is not as quick to feel the affections of people

 

Who look upon the hills with tenderness,

-> who love the hills and countryside with passion,

 

And make dear friendships with the streams and groves.

-> and who form deep connections with rivers and forests.

 

Yet we, who are transgressors in this kind,

-> But we, who are guilty of the opposite habit,

 

Dwelling retired in our simplicity

-> living quietly and simply in the countryside,

 

Among the woods and fields, we love you well,

-> among trees and fields—we still love you dearly, Joanna!

 

Joanna! and I guess, since you have been

-> And I suppose, since you have been away

 

So distant from us now for two long years,

-> far from us for these two long years,

 

That you will gladly listen to discourse

-> that you will be happy to listen to conversation,

 

However trivial, if you thence are taught

-> even if it is about small matters, if it tells you

 

That they, with whom you once were happy, talk

-> that the people you were once happy with still talk

 

Familiarly of you and of old times.

-> affectionately about you and the past.

 

While I was seated, now some ten days past,

-> Just ten days ago, while I was sitting

 

Beneath those lofty firs, that overtop

-> beneath the tall fir trees that tower above

 

Their ancient neighbour, the old steeple-tower,

-> their ancient companion, the old church steeple,

 

The Vicar from his gloomy house hard by

-> the vicar came out of his dark, nearby house

 

Came forth to greet me, and when he had asked,

-> to greet me; and after asking,

 

“How fares Joanna, that wild-hearted Maid!

-> “How is Joanna, that spirited young woman!

 

And when will she return to us?” he paused,

-> And when will she come back to us?”—he stopped,

 

And after short exchange of village news,

-> and after we briefly exchanged village news,

 

He with grave looks demanded, for what cause,

-> he seriously asked me why,

 

Reviving obsolete Idolatry,

-> as if reviving some old pagan custom,

 

I, like a Runic Priest, in characters

-> I, like an ancient priest, using letters

 

Of formidable size, had chiselled out

-> of great size, had carved out

 

Some uncouth name upon the native rock,

-> a strange name upon the natural rock

 

Above the Rotha, by the forest-side.

-> above the River Rotha, by the woods.

 

—Now, by those dear immunities of heart

-> Now, by those dear freedoms of affection

 

Engender’d betwixt malice and true love,

-> that grow between teasing and genuine love,

 

I was not loth to be so catechiz’d,

-> I did not mind being questioned like this,

 

And this was my reply.—“As it befel,

-> and this was my reply: “As it happened,

 

One summer morning we had walk’d abroad

-> one summer morning we went walking outside

 

At break of day, Joanna and myself.

-> at dawn, Joanna and I together.

 

—‘Twas that delightful season, when the broom,

-> It was that lovely season when the broom plant,

 

Full flower’d, and visible on every steep,

-> fully in bloom and covering every hillside,

 

Along the copses runs in veins of gold.

-> spreads across the thickets like golden veins.

 

Our pathway led us on to Rotha’s banks,

-> Our path brought us to the banks of the River Rotha,

 

And when we came in front of that tall rock

-> and when we stood before that tall rock

 

Which looks towards the East, I there stopp’d short,

-> which faces the east, I stopped there suddenly,

 

And trac’d the lofty barrier with my eye

-> and traced the height of that massive rock with my eyes

 

From base to summit; such delight I found

-> from bottom to top; I felt such delight

 

To note in shrub and tree, in stone and flower,

-> in observing shrubs, trees, stones, and flowers

 

That intermixture of delicious hues,

-> in that blend of beautiful colours,

 

Along so vast a surface, all at once,

-> spread across such a huge surface, all together,

 

In one impression, by connecting force

-> that they left one single impression

 

Of their own beauty, imagin’d in the heart.

-> formed by their beauty, imagined and felt in my heart.

 

—When I had gazed perhaps two minutes’ space,

-> After I had gazed for about two minutes,

 

Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld

-> Joanna looked into my eyes and saw

 

That ravishment of mine, and laugh’d aloud.

-> the joy and wonder in me, and laughed out loud.

 

The rock, like something starting from a sleep,

-> The rock, as if waking from sleep,

 

Took up the Lady’s voice, and laugh’d again:

-> echoed her voice, laughing back at her.

 

That ancient Woman seated on Helm-crag

-> The old crag shaped like a woman on Helm-crag

 

Was ready with her cavern; Hammar-Scar,

-> responded from its cavern; Hammar-Scar,

 

And the tall Steep of Silver-How sent forth

-> and the tall steep of Silver-How, also sent forth

 

A noise of laughter; southern Loughrigg heard.

-> a sound of laughter; southern Loughrigg heard it too.

 

And Fairfield answer’d with a mountain tone:

-> And Fairfield replied with the deep tone of a mountain.

 

Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky

-> Helvellyn carried the voice high into the clear blue sky,

 

Carried the Lady’s voice,—old Skiddaw blew.”

-> carried the lady’s voice, and then old Skiddaw echoed it further.

 

Analysis in Detail

William Wordsworth’s To Joanna, one of his “Poems on the Naming of Places,” is a lyrical reflection on memory, companionship, and the powerful bond between human feeling and the natural landscape. At first glance, it appears to be a personal address to a woman named Joanna, but beneath the surface, it becomes a meditation on how moments of joy can be immortalized through the harmony between people and nature.

The poem begins by contrasting Joanna’s upbringing in the smoky atmosphere of the city with the life of Wordsworth and his companions in the countryside. The city taught Joanna to value family bonds and domestic love, but it did not shape in her the same passionate connection to hills, woods, and rivers that Wordsworth himself cherished. The poet does not present this as a flaw but as a simple difference. Despite this contrast, he assures her of their affection. Even though she has been absent for two years, her memory lives strongly among those who once shared happiness with her, and they speak of her warmly. In this way, Wordsworth frames the poem as both a greeting and a reminder of her place within his circle of friendship and within the natural landscape itself.

The narrative then shifts to a recollection. Wordsworth describes sitting beneath tall fir trees near a steeple when the village vicar approached him. After asking kindly about Joanna and her return, the vicar turned to a more serious matter: he questioned why Wordsworth had carved an unusual name into the rock above the River Rotha. The vicar saw it as a strange act, almost like reviving old pagan rituals, and asked for its meaning. This sets the stage for Wordsworth’s central memory—an explanation of the moment that inspired the carving.

In his account, Wordsworth recalls a summer morning walk with Joanna, when the broom was in golden bloom across the hillsides. They came to a tall rock that faced east, and the poet was struck by its beauty—the shrubs, trees, flowers, and stones all blending together in a vast, harmonious vision. For a time, he stood absorbed in silent wonder. Joanna, perceiving his delight, laughed with a spontaneity that broke the stillness. That laugh was immediately caught by the rock and carried outward through a series of echoes, as if the entire landscape joined in. Helm-crag, Hammar-scar, Silver-How, Loughrigg, Fairfield, Helvellyn, and Skiddaw—all the mountains responded, passing her voice from one peak to another, until it filled the wide sky.

This vivid memory becomes the heart of the poem. Joanna’s laughter, echoed and multiplied by the mountains, is not merely a sound—it becomes part of the natural symphony of the Lake District itself. In that moment, human emotion and the voice of the earth unite. By carving her name into the rock, Wordsworth was preserving this bond, turning the land into a monument to shared joy.

The poem thus weaves together personal affection, local community, and the grandeur of nature. Joanna is not idealized in the abstract sense of Romantic poetry; instead, she is remembered in the concreteness of a moment, where her spontaneous laugh transforms the silence of the valley. The landscape does not remain passive but actively participates, carrying her voice across the mountains as though nature itself were celebrating her presence.

Ultimately, To Joanna reveals Wordsworth’s belief that human experiences are inseparable from the places where they occur. Personal memory becomes rooted in the physical features of the land—rocks, rivers, and mountains hold echoes of human voices and emotions. In this sense, Joanna becomes part of the Lake District itself, immortalized not only in Wordsworth’s poetry but also in the enduring memory of the natural world.