Swede
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Thu May-20-10 12:55 PM
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The World Is Too Much with Us |
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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
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Demoiselle
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Thu May-20-10 08:14 PM
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1. Thanks for reminding me..it's a great poem. |
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Thu Apr 25th 2024, 11:24 PM
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