I Watch and Long Have Watched
By William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850)
William Wordsworth was an early romantic poet whose poetry sought to capture the basic feelings of the human heart in ordinary everyday language. I think he came awfully close to succeeding.
I watch, and long have watched, with calm regret Yon slowly-sinking star, immortal Sire (So might he seem) of all the glittering quire! Blue ether still surrounds him, yet, and yet; But now the horizon's rocky parapet Is reached, where, forfeiting his bright attire, He burns, transmuted to a dusky fire, Then pays submissively the appointed debt To the flying moments, and is seen no more. Angels and gods! We struggle with our fate, While health, power, glory, from their height decline, Depressed; and then extinguished; and our state, In this, how different, lost Star, from thine, That no to-morrow shall our beams restore!
The poem starts with neat depiction of a sunset. I’ve always found the sun moves faster in that last hour, and you can imagine sitting in a lawn chair and watching it. First it is still surrounded by blue, then it hits the horizon and the sky changes into the golds and reds that we all love. But it isn’t a poem about a beautiful sunset, but “paying submissively the debt.” The speaker isn’t valorizing this moment, he is filled with “calm regret.” The sunset doesn’t bring peace, but a call to arms, to “struggle with our fate.” To fight against the “decline” of “health, power, and glory.” The speaker sees in every sunset the playing out of what it means to be mortal. To grow old and be frail. And “our beams” won’t restore themselves “tomorrow.”
Some people would look for meaning here by pointing out how the debt is owed to “the flying moments” and death is a worthwhile price to pay in order to live in the first place. Those folks would say it is better to love and lose then to never love at all. Others might point out that the speaker of the poem is very acutely aware of his impending doom, and yet “has long watched” a sunset. He knows the value of his time and he spends it on beauty because he knows beauty’s value transcends even time.
I wouldn’t disagree with either of them, but I might disagree with Wordsworth. I don’t think I am so sure that tomorrow our beams won’t restore. It may be more of a metaphorical dark night than a literal one, but we may be rising on the horizon before all is said and done.