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Updated: May 2, 2025
She was still burning with silent resentment when they started on their walk. He strolled beside her, cool and unperturbed. If he guessed her mood, he made no sign. "Where are you taking me?" he asked presently. "It is the road to the wishing-gate," she replied icily. "There is a good view of the lake farther on."
He stops where the fact ends and shuns abstractions. 'So taught, so trained, we boldly face All accidents of time and place; Whatever props may fail, Trust in that sovereign law can spread New glory o'er the mountain's head, Fresh beauty through the vale. This is from The Wishing-Gate Destroyed, a late poem, not published till 1842, when Wordsworth was seventy-two years old.
The villas which stud the slopes, the great inns which bring a great public, were uncreated; and there was only the old Roman road where the Wishing-Gate is, or the short cut by the quarries to arrive by from the South, instead of the fine mail-road which now winds between the hills and the margin of the lake.
After that moment of madness by the wishing-gate Nina's wanton desire to provoke to wrath the monster to whom she was chained died a sudden and unnatural death. She was scrupulously careful of his feelings from that day forward, and he treated her with a freezing courtesy, a cynical consideration, that seemed to form a barrier behind which the actual man concealed himself and watched.
He made no further enquiry, and they walked on in dead silence through exquisite scenery. They reached the wishing-gate, and the girl stopped almost involuntarily. "Is this the fateful spot?" said Wingarde, coming suddenly out of his reverie. "What is the usual thing to do? Cut our names on the gate-post? Rather a low-down game, I always think." She uttered a sudden, breathless laugh.
"Hereford!" she said in a broken whisper, and went straight into his arms. He held her fast, so fast that she felt his heart beating against her bowed head. But it was many seconds before he spoke. "Do you remember the wishing-gate, Nina?" he said, speaking softly. "And how you asked for a Deliverer?" She stretched up her arms to clasp his neck without lifting her head.
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