Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | December 18, 2009

POEM OF THE DAY: The World Is Too Much With Us

by William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850).
 
The World Is Too Much With Us

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune,
It moves us not.—Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
    Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
    Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. 

Notes:
http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/wordswor.htm
http://www.online-literature.com/wordsworth/

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