In youth, by genius nurs'd, 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 scorn, against all enemies prepared, All but neglect: and so, his spirit damped At once, with rash disdain he turned away, And with the food of pride sustained his soul In solitude.
Who he was That piled these stones, and with the mossy sod First covered o'er, and taught this aged tree, Now wild, to bend its arms in circling shade, I well remember. 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 vacancy.
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