[Variant 67:

1836.

Three years a wanderer, often have I view'd, In tears, the sun towards that country tend 1798.

Three years thus wandering, ... 1802.]

[Variant 68:

1836.

And now across this moor my steps I bend-- 1798.]

FOOTNOTES

[Footnote A: In the 'Prelude', he says it was "three summer days." See book xiii. l. 337.--Ed.]

[Footnote B: By an evident error, corrected in the first reprint of this edition (1840). See p. 37.--Ed.[Footnote D of 'Descriptive Sketches', the preceding poem in this text.]]

[Footnote C: From a short MS. poem read to me when an under-graduate, by my schoolfellow and friend Charles Farish, long since deceased. The verses were by a brother of his, a man of promising genius, who died young.--W. W. 1842.

Charles Farish was the author of 'The Minstrels of Winandermere'.--Ed.]

[Footnote D: Compare Milton's "grinding sword," 'Paradise Lost', vi. l.

329.--Ed.]

SUB-FOOTNOTE

[Sub-Footnote i: Several of the Lakes in the north of England are let out to different Fishermen, in parcels marked out by imaginary lines drawn from rock to rock.--W. W. 1798.]

LINES LEFT UPON A SEAT IN A YEW-TREE, WHICH STANDS NEAR THE LAKE OF ESTHWAITE, ON A DESOLATE PART OF THE Sh.o.r.e, 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 cla.s.sed 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 sh.o.r.e, 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! these gloomy boughs Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit, 25 His only visitants a straggling sheep, The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper: [5]

And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath, And juniper and thistle, sprinkled o'er, [6]

Fixing his downcast [7] eye, he many an hour 30 A morbid pleasure nourished, tracing here An emblem of his own unfruitful life: And, lifting up his head, he then would gaze On the more distant scene,--how lovely 'tis Thou seest,--and he would gaze till it became 35 Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain The beauty, still more beauteous! Nor, that time, When nature had subdued him to herself, [8]

Would he forget those Beings to whose minds Warm from the labours of benevolence 40 The world, and human life, [9] appeared a scene Of kindred loveliness: then he would sigh, Inly disturbed, to think [10] that others felt What he must never feel: and so, lost Man!

On visionary views would fancy feed, 45 Till his eye streamed with tears. In this deep vale He died,--this seat his only monument.

If Thou be one whose heart the holy forms Of young imagination have kept pure, Stranger! henceforth be warned; and know that pride, 50 Howe'er disguised in its own majesty, Is littleness; that he who feels contempt For any living thing, hath faculties Which he has never used; that thought with him Is in its infancy. The man whose eye 55 Is ever on himself doth look on one, The least of Nature's works, one who might move The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds Unlawful, ever. O be wiser, Thou!

Instructed that true knowledge leads to love; 60 True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart.

The place where this Yew-tree stood may be found without difficulty. It was about three-quarters of a mile from Hawkshead, on the eastern sh.o.r.e of the lake, a little to the left above the present highway, as one goes towards Sawrey. Mr. Bowman, the son of Wordsworth's last teacher at the grammar-school of Hawkshead, told me that it stood about forty yards nearer the village than the yew which is now on the roadside, and is sometimes called "Wordsworth's Yew." In the poet's school-days the road pa.s.sed right through the unenclosed common, and the tree was a conspicuous object. It was removed, he says, owing to the popular belief that its leaves were poisonous, and might injure the cattle grazing in the common. The present tree is erroneously called "Wordsworth's Yew."

Its proximity to the place where the tree of the poem stood has given rise to the local tradition.--Ed.