LINES LEFT UPON A SEAT IN A YEW-TREE WHICH STANDS HE LAKE OF ESTHWAITE,
ON A DESOLATE PART OF THE SHORE, YET ANDING ABEAUTIFUL PROSPECT.
--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 these barren boughs the bee not loves;
Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves,
That break against the shore, shall lull thy mind
By one soft impulse saved from vacy.
--Who he was
That piled these stones, and with the mossy sod
First covered oer, and taught this aged tree,
Now wild, to bend its arms in cirg shade,
I well remember.--He was one who ownd
No on soul. In youth, by genius nursd,
And big with lofty views, he to the world
Went forth, pure in his heart, against the taint
Of dissolute tongues, gainst jealousy, and hate,
And s, against all enemies prepared,
All but : and so, his spirit damped
At once, with rash disdaiurned away,
And with the food of pride sus……(内容加载失败!)
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