No More Learning

--. . . After long waiting, the girls, who had been
on the look-out, informed us that the boat was coming. I went to the
waterside, and saw a cluster of people on the opposite shore; but,
being yet at a distance, they looked more like soldiers surrounding a
carriage than a group of men and women; red and green were the
distinguishable colours. We hastened to get ourselves ready as soon as
we saw the party approach, but had longer to wait than we expected,
the lake being wider than it appears to be. As they drew near we could
distinguish men in tartan plaids, women in scarlet cloaks, and green
umbrellas by the half-dozen. The landing was as pretty a sight as ever
I saw. The bay, which had been so quiet two days before, was all in
motion with small waves, while the swollen waterfall roared in our
ears. The boat came steadily up, being pressed almost to the water's
edge by the weight of its cargo; perhaps twenty people landed, one
after another. It did not rain much, but the women held up their
umbrellas; they were dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, and
with their scarlet cardinals, the tartan plaids of the men, and Scotch
bonnets, made a gay appearance. There was a joyous bustle surrounding
the boat, which even imparted something of the same character to the
waterfall in its tumult, and the restless grey waves; the young men
laughed and shouted, the lasses laughed, and the elder folks seemed to
be in a bustle to be away. I remember well with what haste the
mistress of the house where we were ran up to seek after her child,
and seeing us, how anxiously and kindly she inquired how we had fared,
if we had had a good fire, had been well waited upon, etc. All this in
three minutes--for the boatman had another party to bring from the
other side, and hurried us off.

"The hospitality we had met with at the two cottages and Mr.
Macfarlane's gave us very favourable impressions on this our first
entrance into the Highlands, and at this day the innocent merriment of
the girls, with their kindness to us, and the beautiful face and
figure of the elder, come to my mind whenever I think of the
ferry-house and waterfall of Loch Lomond, and I never think of the two
girls but the whole image of that romantic spot is before me, a living
image as it will be to my dying day. The following poem was written by
William not long after our return from Scotland. "

Compare the poem called 'The Three Cottage Girls', in the "Memorials of
a Tour on the Continent, 1820," published in 1822. --Ed.





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GLEN-ALMAIN; OR, THE NARROW GLEN


Composed (possibly) in 1803. --Published 1807


Classed in 1815 and 1820 with the "Poems of the Imagination. "--Ed.




In this still place, remote from men,
Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN;
In this still place, where murmurs on
But one meek streamlet, only one:
He sang of battles, and the breath 5
Of stormy war, and violent death;
And should, methinks, when all was past,
Have rightfully been laid at last
Where rocks were rudely heaped, and rent
As by a spirit turbulent; 10
Where sights were rough, and sounds were wild,
And everything unreconciled;
In some complaining, dim retreat,
For fear and melancholy meet;
But this is calm; there cannot be 15
A more entire tranquillity.

Does then the Bard sleep here indeed?
Or is it but a groundless creed?
What matters it? --I blame them not
Whose Fancy in this lonely Spot 20
Was moved; and in such [1] way expressed
Their notion of its perfect rest.
A convent, even a hermit's cell,
Would break the silence of this Dell: [A]
It is not quiet, is not ease; 25
But something deeper far than these:
The separation that is here
Is of the grave; and of austere
Yet [2] happy feelings of the dead:
And, therefore, was it rightly said 30
That Ossian, last of all his race!
Lies buried in this lonely place.


* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1827.

.