I have a boy of five years old;
His face is fair and fresh to see;
His limbs are cast in beauty's mold
And dearly he loves me.
One morn we strolled on our dry walk,
Or quiet home all full in view,
And held such intermitted talk
As we are wont to do.
My thoughts on former pleasures ran;
I thought of Kilve's delightful shore,
Our pleasant home when spring began,
A long, long year before.
A day it was when I could bear
Some fond regrets to entertain;
With so much happiness to spare,
I could not feel a pain.
The green earth echoed to the feet
Of lambs that bounded through the glade,
From shade to sunshine, and as fleet
From sunshine back to shade.
Birds warbled round me---and each trace
Of inward sadness had its charm;
Kilve, thought I, was a favoured place,
And so is Liswyn farm.
My boy beside me tripped, so slim
And graceful in his rustic dress!
And, as we talked, I questioned him,
In very idleness.
"Now tell me, had you rather be,"
I said. and took him by the arm,
"On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea,
Or here at Liswyn farm?"
In careless mood he looked at me,
While still I held him by the arm,
And said, "At Kilve I'd rather be
Than here at Liswyn farm."
"Now, little Edward, say why so:
My little Edward, tell me why."---
"I cannot tell, I do not know."---
"Why, this is strange," said I;
"For, here are woods, hills smooth and warm:
There surely must one reason be
Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm
For Kilve by the green sea."
At this, my boy hung down his head,
He blushed with shame, nor made reply;
And three times to the child I said,
"Why, :Edward, tell me why?"
His head he raised---there was in sight,
It caught his eye, he saw it plain---
Upon the house-top, glittering bright,
A broad and gilded vane.
Then did the boy his tongue unlock,
And eased his mind with this reply:
"At Kilve there was no weather-cock;
And that's the reaon why."
O dearest, dearest boy! my heart
For better lore would seldom yearn,
Could I but teach the hundredth part
Of what from thee I learn.
Did you like this poem? Why not receive free classic poems by email? SUBSCRIBE
More Poems by William Wordsworth
• A Character
• A Night Piece
• A Whirl Blast from Behind the Hill
• Andrew Jones
• Anecdote For Fathers
• Animal Tranquillity and Decay
• Calm is all Nature as a Resting Wheel
• Ellen Irwin
• Expostulation and Reply
• I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud
• Influence of Natural Objects
• It was an April Morning: fresh and clear
• Lines Left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree
• Lines Written In Early Spring
• Lucy Gray
• Nutting
• Ode, Composed On A May Morning
• Remembrance of Collins
• Rural Architecture
• She Dwelt Among Untrodden Ways
• She Was a Phantom of Delight
• Passion Have I Known
• Surprised By Joy
• The Birth of Love
• The Childless Father
• The Forsaken
• The Green Linnet
• The Mother's Return
• The Pet Lamb: A Pastoral
• The Rainbow
• The Reverie of Poor Susan
• She Grew In Sun
• The Solitary Reaper
• The World Is To Much With Us; Late And Soon
• We Are Seven
• With Ships the Sea was Sprinkled Far and Nigh
Also read poems by
• Alfred, Lord Tennyson
• Edgar Allan Poe
• Elizabeth Barrett Browning
• Emily Dickinson
• George Gordon, Lord Byron
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
• Hilaire Belloc
• John Donne
• John Keats
• Lewis Carroll
• Robert Frost
• Robert Browning
• Robert Burns
• Robert Herrick
• Robert Louis Stevenson
• Rudyard Kipling
• Samuel Taylor Coleridge
• Sarah Teasdale
• Thomas Hardy
• Walt Whitman
• William Blake
• William Butler Yeats
Anecdote For Fathers - Poem Lyrics - William Wordsworth - Anecdote For Fathers
