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.
... seemed to me
In MS. letter to Sir G. Beaumont. N. D.]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Italics were first used in 1855.--Ed.]
The following is from the 'Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland':
"Sunday, Sept. 11th.--We have never had a more delightful walk than
this evening. Ben Lomond and the three pointed-topped mountains of
Loch Lomond, which we had seen from the garrison, were very majestic
under the clear sky, the lake perfectly calm, the air sweet and mild.
I felt that it was much more interesting to visit a place where we
have been before than it can possibly be the first time, except under
peculiar circumstances. The sun had been set for some time, when,
being within a quarter of a mile of the ferry man's hut, our path
having led us close to the shore of the calm lake, we met two
neatly-dressed women, without hats, who had probably been taking their
Sunday evening's walk. One of them said to us in a friendly, soft tone
of voice, 'What, you are stepping westward?' I cannot describe how
affecting this simple expression was in that remote place, with the
western sky in front, yet glowing with the departed sun. William wrote
the following poem long after, in remembrance of his feelings and
mine."
Ed.
* * * * *
THE SOLITARY REAPER
Composed between 1803 and 1805.--Published 1807
One of the "Poems of the Imagination" in 1815 and 1820.--Ed.
Behold her, single [1] in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain, 5
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.
No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands [2] 10
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard [3]
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas [A] 15
Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings?--
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago: 20
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang [4] 25
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listened, motionless and still; [5]
And, as [6] I mounted up the hill, 30
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1807.
... singing ...
MS.]
[Variant 2:
1827.
So sweetly to reposing bands 1807.]
[Variant 3:
1837.
No sweeter voice was ever heard 1807.
... sound ... MS.
Such thrilling voice was never heard 1827.]
[Variant 4:
1815.
... sung 1807.]
[Variant 5:
1820.
I listen'd till I had my fill: 1807.]
[Variant 6:
1807.
And when ... 1827.
The text of 1837 returns to that of 1807.]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Compare 'The Ancient Mariner'(part ii. stanza 6):
'And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea.'
Ed.]
The following is from Dorothy Wordsworth's 'Recollections' of the Tour:
13th Sept. 1803.
"As we descended, the scene became more fertile, our way being
pleasantly varied--through coppices or open fields, and passing
farm-houses, though always with an intermixture of cultivated ground.
It was harvest-time, and the fields were quietly--might I be allowed
to say pensively?--enlivened by small companies of reapers. It is not
uncommon in the more lonely parts of the Highlands to see a single
person so employed. The following poem was suggested to William by a
beautiful sentence in Thomas Wilkinson's 'Tour in Scotland.'"
In a note appended to the editions 1807 to 1820, Wordsworth wrote:
"This Poem was suggested by a beautiful sentence in a MS. 'Tour in
Scotland,' written by a Friend, the last line being taken from it
_verbatim_."
The first part of Wilkinson's 'Tours to the British Mountains', which
was published in 1824, narrates his journey in Scotland (it took place
in 1787); and the following sentence occurs in the record of his travels
near Loch Lomond (p. 12),
"Passed a female who was reaping alone: she sung in Erse, as she
bended over her sickle; the sweetest human voice I ever heard: her
strains were tenderly melancholy, and felt delicious, long after they
were heard no more."
There can be no doubt that this is the sentence referred to both by
Dorothy and William Wordsworth. Thomas Wilkinson was the friend, in
whose memory Wordsworth wrote the poem 'To the Spade of a Friend,
composed while we were labouring together in his pleasure-ground'. They
were comparatively near neighbours, as Wilkinson lived near Yanwath on
the Emont; and he had given his MS. to the Wordsworth family to read. I
have received some additional information about this MS., and
Wordsworth's knowledge of it, from Mr. Wilson Robinson, who writes,
"From all the evidence, I conclude that Wilkinson's 'Tour to the
Highlands' was shown in manuscript to his friends soon after his
return;--that he was not only willing to show it, but even to allow it
to be copied, though reluctant to publish it;--that there was
sufficient intimacy between him and the Wordsworths to account for his
showing or lending the manuscript to them, especially as they had
travelled over much of the same ground, and would therefore be more
interested in it; and that in fact it was never published till 1824."
When Wordsworth was living at Coleorton during the late autumn of 1806
he wrote to Wilkinson:
"... What shall I say in apology for your Journal, which is now locked
up with my manuscripts at Grasmere. As I could not go over to your
part of the country myself, my intention was to have taken it with me
to Kendal ... to be carefully transmitted to you; unluckily, most
unluckily, in the hurry of departure, I forgot it, together with two
of my own manuscripts which were along with it; and I am afraid you
will be standing in great need of it.... If you do not want it, it is
in a place where it can take no injury, and I may have the pleasure of
delivering it to you myself in the spring...."
Ed.
* * * * *
ADDRESS TO KILCHURN CASTLE
UPON LOCH AWE
Begun 1803.--Published 1827
"From the top of the hill a most impressive scene opened upon our
view,--a ruined Castle on an Island (for an Island the flood had made
it) [A] at some distance from the shore, backed by a Cove of the
Mountain Cruachan, down which came a foaming stream. The Castle
occupied every foot of the Island that was visible to us, appearing to
rise out of the Water,--mists rested upon the mountain side, with
spots of sunshine; there was a mild desolation in the low-grounds, a
solemn grandeur in the mountains, and the Castle was wild, yet
stately--not dismantled of Turrets--nor the walls broken down, though
obviously a ruin."
'Extract from the Journal of my Companion.'--W. W. 1827.
[The first three lines were thrown off at the moment I first caught
sight of the Ruin, from a small eminence by the wayside; the rest was
added many years after.--I.F.]
Child of loud-throated War! the mountain Stream
Roars in thy hearing; but thy hour of rest
Is come, and thou art silent in thy age;
Save when the wind sweeps by and sounds are caught
Ambiguous, neither wholly thine nor theirs. 5
Oh! there is life that breathes not; Powers there are
That touch each other to the quick in modes
Which the gross world no sense hath to perceive,
No soul to dream of. What art Thou, from care
Cast off--abandoned by thy rugged Sire, 10
Nor by soft Peace adopted; though, in place
And in dimension, such that thou might'st seem
But a mere footstool to yon sovereign Lord,
Huge Cruachan, (a thing that meaner hills
Might crush, nor know that it had suffered harm;) 15
Yet he, not loth, in favour of thy claims
To reverence, suspends his own; submitting
All that the God of Nature hath conferred,
All that he holds [1] in common with the stars,
To the memorial majesty of Time 20
Impersonated in thy calm decay!
Take, then, thy seat, Vicegerent unreproved!
Now, while a farewell gleam of evening light
Is fondly lingering on thy shattered front,
Do thou, in turn, be paramount; and rule 25
Over the pomp and beauty of a scene
Whose mountains, torrents, lake, and woods, unite
To pay thee homage; and with these are joined,
In willing admiration and respect,
Two Hearts, which in thy presence might be called 30
Youthful as Spring.--Shade of departed Power,
Skeleton of unfleshed humanity,
The chronicle were welcome that should call
Into the compass of distinct regard
The toils and struggles of thy infant years! [2] 35
Yon foaming flood seems motionless as ice;
Its dizzy turbulence eludes the eye,
Frozen by distance; so, majestic Pile,
To the perception of this Age, appear
Thy fierce beginnings, softened and subdued 40
And quieted in character--the strife,
The pride, the fury uncontrollable,
Lost on the aerial heights of the Crusades!" [B]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1837.
... has ... 1827.]
[Variant 2:
1845.
... of thy infancy! 1827.]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: The clause within brackets was added in 1837.--Ed.]
[Footnote B: The Tradition is, that the Castle was built by a Lady
during the absence of her Lord in Palestine.--W. W. 1827.]
From the following passage in Dorothy Wordsworth's 'Recollections' of
their Tour, it will be seen that the poet altered the text considerably
in making his quotation in 1827: August 31, 1803.
"When we had ascended half-way up the hill, directed by the man, I
took a nearer foot-path, and at the top came in view of a most
impressive scene, a ruined castle on an island almost in the middle of
the last compartment of the lake, backed by a mountain cove, down
which came a roaring stream. The castle occupied every foot of the
island that was visible to us, appearing to rise out of the water;
mists rested upon the mountain side, with spots of sunshine between;
there was a mild desolation in the low grounds, a solemn grandeur in
the mountains, and the castle was wild, yet stately, not dismantled of
its turrets, nor the walls broken down, though completely in ruin.
After having stood some minutes I joined William on the highroad, and
both wishing to stay longer near this place, we requested the man to
drive his little boy on to Dalmally, about two miles further, and
leave the car at the inn. He told us the ruin was called Kilchurn
Castle, that it belonged to Lord Breadalbane, and had been built by
one of the ladies of that family for her defence, during her lord's
absence at the Crusades; for which purpose she levied a tax of seven
years' rent upon her tenants; he said that from that side of the lake
it did not appear, in very dry weather, to stand upon an island, but
that it was possible to go over to it without being wet-shod. We were
very lucky in seeing it after a great flood; for its enchanting effect
was chiefly owing to its situation in the lake, a decayed palace
rising out of the plain of waters! I have called it a palace, for such
feeling it gave me, though having been built as a place of defence, a
castle or fortress. We turned again and reascended the hill, and sate
a long time in the middle of it looking on the castle, and the huge
mountain cove opposite, and William, addressing himself to the ruin,
poured out these verses."
Compare Wordsworth's description of this ruin in his 'Guide through the
District of the Lakes'.--Ed.
* * * * *
ROB ROY'S GRAVE
Composed between 1803 and 1805.--Published 1807
The History of Rob Roy is sufficiently known; his Grave is near the head
of Loch Ketterine, in one of those small Pin-fold-like Burial-grounds,
of neglected and desolate appearance, which the Traveller meets with in
the Highlands of Scotland.--W. W. 1807.
[I have since been told that I was misinformed as to the burial-place of
Rob Roy. If so, I may plead in excuse that I wrote on apparently good
authority, namely, that of a well educated Lady who lived at the head of
the Lake, within a mile or less of the point indicated as containing the
remains of One so famous in the neighbourhood.--I. F.]
In the copy of 'Rob Roy's Grave', transcribed in Dorothy Wordsworth's
'Recollections' of the Tour in Scotland of 1803, there are several
important variations of text, which occur in none of the printed
editions of the poem. These are indicated (to distinguish them from
other readings) by the initials D. W.--Ed.
One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection" in 1815 and 1820.--Ed.
A famous man is Robin Hood,
The English ballad-singer's joy!
And Scotland has a thief as good,
An outlaw of as daring mood;
She has her brave ROB ROY! [1] 5
Then clear the weeds from off his Grave,
And let us chant a passing stave,
In honour of that Hero [2] brave!
Heaven gave Rob Roy a dauntless [3] heart
And wondrous length and strength of arm: [A] 10
Nor craved he more to quell his foes,
Or keep his friends from harm.
Yet was Rob Roy as _wise_ as brave;
Forgive me if the phrase be strong;--
A Poet worthy of Rob Roy 15
Must scorn a timid song.
Say, then, that he was wise as brave;
As wise in thought as bold in deed:
For in the principles of things
_He_ sought his moral creed. [4] 20
Said generous Rob, "What need of books?
Burn all the statutes and their shelves:
They stir us up against our kind;
And worse, against ourselves.
"We have a passion--make a law, 25
Too false to guide us or control!
And for the law itself we fight
In bitterness of soul.
"And, puzzled, blinded thus, we lose
Distinctions that are plain and few: 30
These find I graven on my heart:
_That_ tells me what to do.
"The creatures see of flood and field,
And those that travel on the wind!
With them no strife can last; they live 35
In peace, and peace of mind.
"For why?--because the good old rule
Sufficeth them, the simple plan,
That they should take, who have the power,
And they should keep who can. 40
"A lesson that [5] is quickly learned,
A signal this which all can see!
Thus nothing here provokes the strong
To wanton [6] cruelty.
"All freakishness [7] of mind is checked; 45
He tamed, who foolishly aspires;
While to the measure of his might [8]
Each fashions his desires. [9]
"All kinds, and creatures, stand and fall
By strength of prowess or of wit: 50
'Tis God's appointment who must sway,
And who is to submit.
"Since, then, the rule of right is plain, [10]
And longest life is but a day;
To have my ends, maintain my rights, 55
I'll take the shortest way."
And thus among these rocks he lived,
Through summer heat and winter snow: [11]
The Eagle, he was lord above,
And Rob was lord below. 60
So was it--_would_, at least, have been
But through untowardness of fate;
For Polity was then too strong--
He came an age too late;
Or shall we say an age too soon? 65
For, were the bold Man living _now_,
How might he flourish in his pride,
With buds on every bough!
Then rents and factors, rights of chase,
Sheriffs, and lairds and their domains, [12] 70
Would all have seemed but paltry things,
Not worth a moment's pains.
Rob Roy had never lingered here,
To these few meagre Vales confined;
But thought how wide the world, the times 75
How fairly to his mind!
And to his Sword he would have said,
"Do Thou my sovereign will enact
From land to land through half the earth!
Judge thou of law and fact! 80
"'Tis fit that we should do our part,
Becoming, that mankind should learn
That we are not to be surpassed
In fatherly concern.
"Of old things all are over old, 85
Of good things none are good enough:--
We'll show that we can help to frame
A world of other stuff.
"I, too, will have my kings that take
From me the sign of life and death: 90
Kingdoms shall shift about, like clouds,
Obedient to my breath."
And, if the word had been fulfilled,
As _might_ have been, then, thought of joy!
France would have had her present Boast, 95
And we our own [13] Rob Roy!
Oh! say not so; compare them not;
I would not wrong thee, Champion brave!
Would wrong thee nowhere; least of all
Here standing by thy grave. 100
For Thou, although with some wild thoughts
Wild Chieftain of a savage Clan!
Hadst this to boast of; thou didst love
The _liberty_ of man.
And, had it been thy lot to live 105
With us who now behold the light,
Thou would'st have nobly stirred thyself,
And battled for the Right.
For thou wert still [14] the poor man's stay,
The poor man's heart, the poor man's hand; 110
And all the oppressed, who wanted strength,
Had thine at their command. [15]
Bear witness many a pensive sigh
Of thoughtful Herdsman when he strays
Alone upon Loch Veol's heights, 115
And by Loch Lomond's braes!
And, far and near, through vale and hill,
Are faces that attest the same;
The proud heart flashing through the eyes, [16]
At sound of ROB ROY'S name. 120
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1807.
And Scotland boasts of one as good,
She has her own Rob Roy. 1803. D.W.]
[Variant 2:
1807.
... Outlaw ... 1803. D.W.]
[Variant 3:
1807.
... daring ... 1803. D.W.]
[Variant 4:
1807.
Stanzas 3 and 4 are thus combined by D.W., and also in a printed (not
published) version, given in a copy of the 1807 edition.
Yet Robin was as wise as brave,
As wise in thought as bold in deed,
For in the principles of things
He sought his moral creed.]
[Variant 5:
1827.
... which ... 1807.]
[Variant 6:
1807.
... tyrannous ... 1803. D. W.]
[Variant 7:
1807.
And freakishness ... 1803. D. W.]
[Variant 8:
1807.
... their ... MS.]
[Variant 9:
1807.
All fashion their desires. 1803. D. W.]
[Variant 10:
1815.
"Since then," said Robin, "right is plain, 1807.]
[Variant 11:
1827.
Through summer's heat and winter's snow: 1807.]
[Variant 12:
1807.
The Rents and Land-marks, Rights of Chase,
Sheriffs and Factors, Lairds and Thanes, 1803. D. W.
Sheriffs and Factors, rights of chase,
Their Lairds, and their domains, MS.]
[Variant 13:
1827.
... our brave ... 1807.]
[Variant 14:
1815.
For Robin was ... 1807.]
[Variant 15:
1815.
Had Robin's to command. 1807.]
[Variant 16:
1827.
Kindling with instantaneous joy 1803. D.W.
And kindle, like a fire new stirr'd, 1807.]
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: The people of the neighbourhood of Loch Ketterine, in order
to prove the extraordinary length of their Hero's arm, tell you that "he
could garter his Tartan Stockings below the knee when standing upright."
According to their account he was a tremendous Swordsman; after having
sought all occasions of proving his prowess, he was never conquered but
once, and this not till he was an Old Man.--W. W. 1807.]
In Dorothy Wordsworth's 'Recollections' of the Scotch Tour the following
occurs:
"August 27, 1803.--We mentioned Rob Roy, and the eyes of all
glistened; even the lady of the house, who was very diffident, and no
great talker, exclaimed, 'He was a good man, Rob Roy! he had been dead
only about eighty years, had lived in the next farm, which belonged to
him, and there his bones were laid.' He was a famous swordsman. Having
an arm much longer than other men, he had a greater command with his
sword. As a proof of the length of his arm, they told us that he could
garter his tartan stockings below the knee without stooping, and added
a dozen different stories of single combats, which he had fought, all
in perfect good humour, merely to prove his prowess. I daresay they
had stories of this kind which would hardly have been exhausted in the
long evenings of a whole December week, Rob Roy being as famous here
as even Robin Hood was in the forest of Sherwood; _he_ also robbed
from the rich, giving to the poor, and defending them from oppression.
They tell of his confining the factor of the Duke of Montrose in one
of the islands of Loch Ketterine, after having taken his money from
him--the Duke's rents--in open day, while they were sitting at table.
He was a formidable enemy of the Duke, but being a small laird against
a greater, was overcome at last, and forced to resign all his lands on
the Braes of Loch Lomond, including the caves which we visited, on
account of the money he had taken from the Duke and could not repay."
September 12:
"Descended into Glengyle, above Loch Ketterine, and passed through Mr.
Macfarlane's grounds, that is, through the whole of the glen, where
there was now no house left but his. We stopped at his door to inquire
after the family, though with little hope of finding them at home,
having seen a large company at work in a hay-field, whom we
conjectured to be his whole household, as it proved, except a
servant-maid who answered our enquiries. We had sent the ferryman
forward from the head of the glen to bring the boat round from the
place where he left it to the other side of the lake. Passed the same
farm-house we had such good reason to remember, and went up to the
burying-ground that stood so sweetly near the water-side. The ferryman
had told us that Rob Roy's grave was there, so we could not pass on
without going up to the spot. There were several tombstones, but the
inscriptions were either worn-out or unintelligible to us, and the
place choked up with nettles and brambles. You will remember the
description I have given of the spot. I have nothing here to add,
except the following poem which it suggested to William."