Was thinking of the poem recently, thought I would post.
by Wiliam Wordsworth
I heard a thousand blended notes
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.
Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower,
The periwinkle trail'd its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopp'd and play'd,
Their thoughts I cannot measure,
But the least motion which they made
It seem'd a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If this belief from Heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
Such a sweetly simple poem.
1 comment:
its the first time i have read this poem. beautiful. theres such a flow when you read it :)
hm what man has made of man...a beast shrouded as man has taken over,
i luv the lines "the budding twigs...to catch the breezy air" and the birds stanza. thanks for sharing
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