Degenerate Douglas! oh, the unworthy Lord!
Whom mere despite of heart could so far please,
And love of havoc, (for with such disease
Fame taxes him,) that he could send forth word
To level with the dust a noble horde,
A brotherhood of venerable Trees,
Leaving an ancient dome, and towers like these,
Beggared and outraged! Many hearts deplored
The fate of those old Trees; and oft with pain
The traveller, at this day, will stop and gaze
On wrongs, which Nature scarcely seems to heed:
For sheltered places, bosoms, nooks, and bays,
And the pure mountains, and the gentle Tweed,
And the green silent pastures, yet remain.
Read all of William Wordsworth's poems · About William Wordsworth
More by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 XII. Yarrow Unvisited
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 XIII. The Matron Of Jedborough And Her Husband
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 XIV. Fly, Some Kind Haringer, To Grasmere-Dale
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 XV. The Blind Highland Boy - A Tale Told By The Fire-Side, After Returning To The Vale Of Grasmere
- Memorials Of A Tour Of Scotland, 1803 VI. Glen-Almain, Or, The Narrow Glen
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