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Left upon a Seat in a YEW-TREE, which stands near the Lake of ESTHWAITE, on a desolate part of the share, yet commanding a beautiful prospect.
Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
. -Who he was
I well remember.—He was one who owned
An emblem of his own unfruitful life:
He died,—this seat his only monument.
If Thou be one whose heart the holy forms
Stranger! henceforth be warned; and know, that pride,
Howe'er disguised in its own majesty,
Is littleness; that be 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.
A Narration in Dramatic Blank Verse.
But that entrance, Mother!
FOSTER-MOTHER. Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale!
FOSTER-MOTHER. My husband's father told it me, Poor old Leoni!—Angels rest his soul! He was a woodman, and could fell and saw With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam Which props the hanging wall of the old chapel;