I was not disappointed; and
I hope the fact, insignificant as it may appear to some, may be
thought worthy of note by others who may cast their eye over these
notes.
I hope the fact, insignificant as it may appear to some, may be
thought worthy of note by others who may cast their eye over these
notes.
Wordsworth - 1
W.
1798.
]
* * * * *
LINES LEFT UPON A SEAT IN A YEW-TREE, WHICH STANDS NEAR THE LAKE OF
ESTHWAITE, ON A DESOLATE PART OF THE SHORE, COMMANDING [A] A BEAUTIFUL
PROSPECT
Composed 1795. --Published 1798
[Composed in part at school at Hawkshead. The tree has disappeared,
and the slip of Common on which it stood, that ran parallel to the
lake, and lay open to it, has long been enclosed; so that the road has
lost much of its attraction. This spot was my favourite walk in the
evenings during the latter part of my school-time. The individual
whose habits and character are here given, was a gentleman of the
neighbourhood, a man of talent and learning, who had been educated at
one of our Universities, and returned to pass his time in seclusion on
his own estate. He died a bachelor in middle age. Induced by the
beauty of the prospect, he built a small summer-house, on the rocks
above the peninsula on which the Ferry House [B] stands. This property
afterwards passed into the hands of the late Mr. Curwen. The site was
long ago pointed out by Mr. West, in his 'Guide', as the pride of the
Lakes, and now goes by the name of "The Station. " So much used I to be
delighted with the view from it, while a little boy, that some years
before the first pleasure house was built, I led thither from
Hawkshead a youngster about my own age, an Irish boy, who was a
servant to an itinerant conjurer. My notion was to witness the
pleasure I expected the boy would receive from the prospect of the
islands below and the intermingling water.
I was not disappointed; and
I hope the fact, insignificant as it may appear to some, may be
thought worthy of note by others who may cast their eye over these
notes. --I. F. ]
* * * * *
From 1815 to 1843 these 'Lines' were placed by Wordsworth among his
"Poems of Sentiment and Reflection. " In 1845, they were classed among
"Poems written in Youth. "--Ed.
* * * * *
THE POEM
Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
Far from all human dwelling: what if here
No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?
What if the bee love not these barren boughs? [1]
Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves, 5
That break against the shore, shall lull thy mind
By one soft impulse saved from vacancy.
Who he was
That piled these stones and with the mossy sod
First covered, and here taught this aged Tree [2] 10
With its dark arms to form a circling bower, [3]
I well remember. --He was one who owned
No common soul. In youth by science nursed,
And led by nature into a wild scene
Of lofty hopes, he to the world went forth 15
A favoured Being, knowing no desire
Which genius did not hallow; 'gainst the taint
Of dissolute tongues, and jealousy, and hate,
And scorn,--against all enemies prepared,
All but neglect. The world, for so it thought, 20
Owed him no service; wherefore he at once
With indignation turned himself away, [4]
And with the food of pride sustained his soul
In solitude. --Stranger!
* * * * *
LINES LEFT UPON A SEAT IN A YEW-TREE, WHICH STANDS NEAR THE LAKE OF
ESTHWAITE, ON A DESOLATE PART OF THE SHORE, COMMANDING [A] A BEAUTIFUL
PROSPECT
Composed 1795. --Published 1798
[Composed in part at school at Hawkshead. The tree has disappeared,
and the slip of Common on which it stood, that ran parallel to the
lake, and lay open to it, has long been enclosed; so that the road has
lost much of its attraction. This spot was my favourite walk in the
evenings during the latter part of my school-time. The individual
whose habits and character are here given, was a gentleman of the
neighbourhood, a man of talent and learning, who had been educated at
one of our Universities, and returned to pass his time in seclusion on
his own estate. He died a bachelor in middle age. Induced by the
beauty of the prospect, he built a small summer-house, on the rocks
above the peninsula on which the Ferry House [B] stands. This property
afterwards passed into the hands of the late Mr. Curwen. The site was
long ago pointed out by Mr. West, in his 'Guide', as the pride of the
Lakes, and now goes by the name of "The Station. " So much used I to be
delighted with the view from it, while a little boy, that some years
before the first pleasure house was built, I led thither from
Hawkshead a youngster about my own age, an Irish boy, who was a
servant to an itinerant conjurer. My notion was to witness the
pleasure I expected the boy would receive from the prospect of the
islands below and the intermingling water.
I was not disappointed; and
I hope the fact, insignificant as it may appear to some, may be
thought worthy of note by others who may cast their eye over these
notes. --I. F. ]
* * * * *
From 1815 to 1843 these 'Lines' were placed by Wordsworth among his
"Poems of Sentiment and Reflection. " In 1845, they were classed among
"Poems written in Youth. "--Ed.
* * * * *
THE POEM
Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
Far from all human dwelling: what if here
No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?
What if the bee love not these barren boughs? [1]
Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves, 5
That break against the shore, shall lull thy mind
By one soft impulse saved from vacancy.
Who he was
That piled these stones and with the mossy sod
First covered, and here taught this aged Tree [2] 10
With its dark arms to form a circling bower, [3]
I well remember. --He was one who owned
No common soul. In youth by science nursed,
And led by nature into a wild scene
Of lofty hopes, he to the world went forth 15
A favoured Being, knowing no desire
Which genius did not hallow; 'gainst the taint
Of dissolute tongues, and jealousy, and hate,
And scorn,--against all enemies prepared,
All but neglect. The world, for so it thought, 20
Owed him no service; wherefore he at once
With indignation turned himself away, [4]
And with the food of pride sustained his soul
In solitude. --Stranger!
