Sunday, July 29, 2012

The World Is Too Much With Us

I know it's totally nerdy, but this poem by William Wordsworth has been going through my mind this past week as I feel, at times, accosted on all sides by noise and technology and beeping and buzzing. Perhaps a simple readjustment in perspective could help, but for now, this poem sums it up well.

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 wreath├Ęd horn.

2 comments:

Jimmy said...

And how easily we become "out of tune."

Boquinha said...

Yep. I blame the Internet. :P