Analysis of Lines Left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree
William Wordsworth 1770 (Wordsworth House) – 1850 (Cumberland)
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?
Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves,
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
With its dark arms to form a circling bower,
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
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,
Owed him no service; wherefore he at once
With indignation turned himself away,
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,
His only visitants a straggling sheep,
The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper:
And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath,
And juniper and thistle, sprinkled o'er,
Fixing his downcast eye, he many an hour
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
Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain
The beauty, still more beauteous! Nor, that time,
When nature had subdued him to herself,
Would he forget those Beings to whose minds,
Warm from the labours of benevolence,
The world, and human life, appeared a scene
Of kindred loveliness: then he would sigh,
Inly disturbed, to think that others felt
What he must never feel: and so, lost Man!
On visionary views would fancy feed,
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,
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
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;
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.
Scheme | Text too long |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11001110111 1111010111 110110101 1101111101 1101110101 1101011111 1111011100 111 111101011 110011111 111111010010 1101011111 1101011101 0111001011 1101110111 0110101010 1101110101 111010001 0101110001 1101011111 111101111 101010101 0101110111 010101101 1111011111 1101011 0111010110 0111011101 01000101010 10111110110 0101010101 11011111 0101111111 1011011101 1101111101 110111101 010111111 1101011101 1101110111 110110100 0101010101 11011111 101111101 1111010111 110011101 1111110111 1111110100 1111110101 110010111 1011110111 1001011100 11111101 1101011100 1111011111 1011000111 1101011111 0111011111 0111111101 0101011101 0101110111 1100011101 10010101101 1101010101 0111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,733 |
Words | 482 |
Sentences | 20 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 64 |
Lines Amount | 64 |
Letters per line (avg) | 33 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 2,124 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 474 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 09, 2023
- 2:25 min read
- 255 Views
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"Lines Left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 2 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/42245/lines-left-upon-a-seat-in-a-yew-tree>.
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