Yesterday, Libby and I stepped toward the setting sun. When Libby pointed out our westward wanderings, I replied "What you are stepping westward?" The awkward construction of the sentence fairly obscures the meaning, but it also makes it stick in my mind. The line is good, but it is not my own; it is by the masterful poet William Wordsworth. I have read it many times, and I had just read it the other day when we stepped westward ourselves. The preface of this poem, as my memory serves me, says that Wordsworth and a friend were walking in the Lake District when two well dressed ladies met them and asked them if they were stepping westward.
VII. STEPPING WESTWARD
"What, you are stepping westward?"--"Yea."
--'Twould be a 'wildish' destiny,
If we, who thus together roam
In a strange Land, and far from home,
Were in this place the guests of Chance:
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;
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
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
The very sound of courtesy:
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
Before me in my endless way.
The experience that I had yesterday with Libby was a mirror of the experience Wordsworth had with these two ladies. The words of Wordsworth added a significance to our walk, just like the ladies' words had added significance to his walk. Isn't it amazing how a poet can take a quick interchange of words, and ring out of it a beautiful contemplation? And, while contemplating this question, be doing the thing that he's examining? Awesome.
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