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William Wordsworth - Stepping Westward
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"What, you are stepping westward?""Yea."

`T would 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; `t was 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.
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