Tinturn Abby-"remember me"

The first stanza of the poem, Wordsworth talks of Tinturn Abby as if he is talking of Zion. He describes it as an old friend he missed talking with or a lover he forgot and just remembered. He then comes back and revisits his lost love, this reminded me of Eliot's, notion of exploration, "we shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring, will be to arrive where we started, and know the place for the first time." Sexson says in class it is only when we revisit a place can we truely understand it. Wordsworth's descriptions remind me of a place I used to spend as a kid that was magical to me. It was a tree behind my house in Argyle, Texas. My Dad built a swing set on the tree and it was about half a mile back from our house in our cow pasture. I used to taunt our cattle and wait for them to charge while I climbed the tree which was out of their reach. Behind the tree was our neighbors fence and they always had longhorn cattle that would stand there and watch me swing or climb the tree and read. Also, behind the fence our neighbors had a beautiful garden with a pathway. As a kid I loved being by that tree, it was very entertaining. Worfsworth seems to have a similiar memory of Tintirn Abby. He says later in the poem, "Wilst thou remember me?". I love this line, it makes me think of Hamlet, and the Bible, and Finnegans Wake. It is such a beautiful line. Wordswoth has such a connection with Tinturn all he wants is to be remembered back. It's such a humanistic quality to want to be remembered or thought of, we don't just expect it of people, but nature too. To have a connection so deep we ask simply to be thought of. I visited my old home about 5 years ago and looked in the back yard for my tree. I remember when my parents sold the place. I was so mad because this fruity couple from New York bought it. The father was highly obiese, and their son looked like a scrawny computer geek. I was mad because I knew they would never appreciate the place like my family did. When I drove by the house 5 years ago, I realized I was right. The yard was unkept, along with the iron fence my dad had taken so long to build, and I couldn't find my tree. Whether it had been chopped down, or I just couldn't see it because it was too far back, I don't know. The place, however, did not have the same appeal to me that it had when I was a child. It lacked the view one has when they are innocent and adventurouse. I realized that my old home did not remember me as I remembered it.