The Late Great Planet Earth

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!
The 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.

William Wordsworth (1806)


Natalie said...

I watched a hummingbird flirt with a leaf today.

It made me smile...

Jorge said...

Thanks for reminding me how much I've enjoyed wordsworth's poetry. Now, I have to dig out his volume from my shelf :-)
Be well,

Hollie said...

Woodsworth poetry is so worth reading isn't it!

Jorge said...

Congratulations! Wow - 25 years! That's a California indoor track record. Hope you have a wonderful silver anniversary trip! Be well,