'"
(See the 'Gaelic Topography of Scotland', by James A.
(See the 'Gaelic Topography of Scotland', by James A.
William Wordsworth
'
But his characterization of the place--a glen, the charm of which is
little known--in the stillness of an autumn afternoon, is as true to
nature as any of his interpretations of the spirit of the hills and
vales of Westmoreland. As yet there is no farm-house, scarcely even a
sheiling, to "break the silence of this Dell. "
The following is Dorothy Wordsworth's account of their walk through it
on Friday, September 9th, 1803:
"Entered the glen at a small hamlet at some distance from the head,
and, turning aside a few steps, ascended a hillock which commanded a
view to the top of it--a very sweet scene, a green valley, not very
narrow, with a few scattered trees and huts, almost invisible in a
misty green of afternoon light. At this hamlet we crossed a bridge,
and the road led us down the glen, which had become exceedingly
narrow, and so continued to the end: the hills on both sides heathy
and rocky, very steep, but continuous; the rock not single or
overhanging, not scooped into caverns, or sounding with torrents;
there are no trees, no houses, no traces of cultivation, not one
outstanding object. It is truly a solitude, the road even making it
appear still more so; the bottom of the valley is mostly smooth and
level, the brook not noisy: everything is simple and undisturbed, and
while we passed through it the whole place was shady, cool, clear, and
solemn. At the end of the long valley we ascended a hill to a great
height, and reached the top, when the sun, on the point of setting,
shed a soft yellow light upon every eminence. The prospect was very
extensive; over hollows and plains, no towns, and few houses
visible--a prospect, extensive as it was, in harmony with the secluded
dell, and fixing its own peculiar character of removedness from the
world, and the secure possession of the quiet of nature more deeply in
our minds. The following poem was written by William on hearing of a
tradition relating to it, which we did not know when we were there. "
Ed.
[Footnote B: In the Statistical Account of Scotland, however--drawn up
by the parish ministers of the county, and edited by Sir John
Sinclair--both the river and the glen are spelt Almon, by the Rev. Mr.
Erskine, who wrote the account of Monzie Parish in Perthshire. This was
in 1795. A recent authority states:
"'Glenamon,' in Ayrshire, and 'Glenalmond,' in Perthshire, are both
from the corrupted spelling of the word 'Avon,' which derives from its
being very nearly the pronunciation of the Gaelic word for 'a river. '
These names are from 'Gleann-abhuinn,' that is,'the valley of the
river.
'"
(See the 'Gaelic Topography of Scotland', by James A. Robertson,
Edinburgh, 1859. )--Ed. ]
* * * * *
STEPPING WESTWARD
Composed between 1803 and 1805. --Published 1807
While my Fellow-traveller and I were walking by the side of Loch
Ketterine, one fine evening after sun-set, in our road to a Hut where in
the course of our Tour we had been hospitably entertained some weeks
before, we met, in one of the loneliest parts of that solitary region,
two well dressed Women, one of whom said to us, by way of greeting,
"What, you are stepping westward? "--W. W. 1807.
Classed in 1815 and 1820 among the "Poems of the Imagination. "--Ed.
"_What, you are stepping westward? "--" Yea_. "
'Twould be a _wildish_ [A] destiny,
If we, who thus together roam
In a strange Land, and far from home,
Were in this place the guests of Chance: 5
Yet who would stop, or fear to advance,
Though home or shelter he had none,
With such a sky to lead him on?
The dewy ground was dark and cold;
Behind, all gloomy to behold; 10
And stepping westward seemed to be
A kind of _heavenly_ destiny:
I liked the greeting; 'twas a sound
Of something without place or bound;
And seemed to give me spiritual right 15
To travel through that region bright.
The voice was soft, and she who spake
Was walking by her native lake:
The salutation had to me [1]
The very sound of courtesy: 20
Its power was felt; and while my eye
Was fixed upon the glowing Sky,
The echo of the voice enwrought
A human sweetness with the thought
Of travelling through the world that lay 25
Before me in my endless way.
* * * * *
VARIANT ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1807.
But his characterization of the place--a glen, the charm of which is
little known--in the stillness of an autumn afternoon, is as true to
nature as any of his interpretations of the spirit of the hills and
vales of Westmoreland. As yet there is no farm-house, scarcely even a
sheiling, to "break the silence of this Dell. "
The following is Dorothy Wordsworth's account of their walk through it
on Friday, September 9th, 1803:
"Entered the glen at a small hamlet at some distance from the head,
and, turning aside a few steps, ascended a hillock which commanded a
view to the top of it--a very sweet scene, a green valley, not very
narrow, with a few scattered trees and huts, almost invisible in a
misty green of afternoon light. At this hamlet we crossed a bridge,
and the road led us down the glen, which had become exceedingly
narrow, and so continued to the end: the hills on both sides heathy
and rocky, very steep, but continuous; the rock not single or
overhanging, not scooped into caverns, or sounding with torrents;
there are no trees, no houses, no traces of cultivation, not one
outstanding object. It is truly a solitude, the road even making it
appear still more so; the bottom of the valley is mostly smooth and
level, the brook not noisy: everything is simple and undisturbed, and
while we passed through it the whole place was shady, cool, clear, and
solemn. At the end of the long valley we ascended a hill to a great
height, and reached the top, when the sun, on the point of setting,
shed a soft yellow light upon every eminence. The prospect was very
extensive; over hollows and plains, no towns, and few houses
visible--a prospect, extensive as it was, in harmony with the secluded
dell, and fixing its own peculiar character of removedness from the
world, and the secure possession of the quiet of nature more deeply in
our minds. The following poem was written by William on hearing of a
tradition relating to it, which we did not know when we were there. "
Ed.
[Footnote B: In the Statistical Account of Scotland, however--drawn up
by the parish ministers of the county, and edited by Sir John
Sinclair--both the river and the glen are spelt Almon, by the Rev. Mr.
Erskine, who wrote the account of Monzie Parish in Perthshire. This was
in 1795. A recent authority states:
"'Glenamon,' in Ayrshire, and 'Glenalmond,' in Perthshire, are both
from the corrupted spelling of the word 'Avon,' which derives from its
being very nearly the pronunciation of the Gaelic word for 'a river. '
These names are from 'Gleann-abhuinn,' that is,'the valley of the
river.
'"
(See the 'Gaelic Topography of Scotland', by James A. Robertson,
Edinburgh, 1859. )--Ed. ]
* * * * *
STEPPING WESTWARD
Composed between 1803 and 1805. --Published 1807
While my Fellow-traveller and I were walking by the side of Loch
Ketterine, one fine evening after sun-set, in our road to a Hut where in
the course of our Tour we had been hospitably entertained some weeks
before, we met, in one of the loneliest parts of that solitary region,
two well dressed Women, one of whom said to us, by way of greeting,
"What, you are stepping westward? "--W. W. 1807.
Classed in 1815 and 1820 among the "Poems of the Imagination. "--Ed.
"_What, you are stepping westward? "--" Yea_. "
'Twould be a _wildish_ [A] destiny,
If we, who thus together roam
In a strange Land, and far from home,
Were in this place the guests of Chance: 5
Yet who would stop, or fear to advance,
Though home or shelter he had none,
With such a sky to lead him on?
The dewy ground was dark and cold;
Behind, all gloomy to behold; 10
And stepping westward seemed to be
A kind of _heavenly_ destiny:
I liked the greeting; 'twas a sound
Of something without place or bound;
And seemed to give me spiritual right 15
To travel through that region bright.
The voice was soft, and she who spake
Was walking by her native lake:
The salutation had to me [1]
The very sound of courtesy: 20
Its power was felt; and while my eye
Was fixed upon the glowing Sky,
The echo of the voice enwrought
A human sweetness with the thought
Of travelling through the world that lay 25
Before me in my endless way.
* * * * *
VARIANT ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1807.
