* * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: But previously printed in 'The Morning Post' of February 2,
1803, under the signature W. L. D.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: Compare Massinger, 'The Bondman', act I. scene iii. l. 8:

'Her man of men, Timoleon.'

Ed.]

[Footnote B: Compare Rowe's 'Tamerlane', iii. 2:

'But to subdue the unconquerable mind.'

Also Gray's poem 'The Progress of Poesy', ii. 2, l. 10:

'Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame.'

Ed.]

Francois Dominique Toussaint (who was surnamed L'Ouverture), the child
of African slaves, was born at St. Domingo in 1743. He was a Royalist in
political sympathy till 1794, when the decree of the French convention,
giving liberty to the slaves, brought him over to the side of the
Republic. He was made a general of division by Laveux, and succeeded in
taking the whole of the north of the island from the English. In 1796 he
was made chief of the French army of St. Domingo, and first the British
commander, and next the Spanish, surrendered everything to him. He
became governor of the island, which prospered under his rule. Napoleon,
however, in 1801, issued an edict re-establishing slavery in St.
Domingo. Toussaint professed obedience, but showed that he meant to
resist the edict. A fleet of fifty-four vessels was sent from France to
enforce it. Toussaint was proclaimed an outlaw. He surrendered, and was
received with military honours, but was treacherously arrested and sent
to Paris in June 1802, where he died, in April 1803, after ten months'
hardship in prison. He had been two months in prison when Wordsworth
addressed this sonnet to him.--Ed.

* * * * *

COMPOSED IN THE VALLEY NEAR DOVER, ON THE DAY OF LANDING

Composed August 30, 1802.--Published 1807

Here, on our native soil, we breathe once more. [1]
The cock that crows, the smoke that curls, that sound
Of bells;--those boys who [2] in yon meadow-ground
In white-sleeved shirts are playing; [A] and the roar
Of the waves breaking on the chalky shore;--[3] 5
All, all are English. Oft have I looked round
With joy in Kent's green vales; but never found
Myself so satisfied in heart before.
Europe is yet in bonds; but let that pass,
Thought for another moment. Thou art free, 10
My Country! and 'tis joy enough and pride
For one hour's perfect bliss, to trea