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 wreathèd horn.
William Wordsworth
Vous avez aimé cette poésie ? faites la connaître !
D'autres poésies de William Wordsworth
"A Narrow Girdle of Rough Stones and Crags,"
A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags,
A rude and...
"A Whirl-Blast from Behind the Hill"
A Whirl-Blast from behind the hill
Rushed o'er the wood...
"Calm is all Nature as a Resting Wheel."
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are...
"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud"
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er...
"It was an April morning: fresh and clear"
It was an April morning: fresh and clear
The Rivulet,...
"She Dwelt Among Untrodden Ways"
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs...
"She Was a Phantom of Delight"
She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon...
"Strange Fits of Passion Have I Known"
Strange fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to...
"Surprised by Joy--Impatient as the Wind"
Surprised by joy impatient as the Wind
I turned to share...
"The World Is To Much With Us; Late and Soon"
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting...
Précédentes poésies
Written on the Day that Mr Leigh Hunt Left Prison
What though, for showing truth to flattered state,
Kind...
Written on a Summer Evening
The church bells toll a melancholy round,
Calling the...
Written On A Blank Space At The End Of Chaucer's Tale Of The Flowre And The Lefe
This pleasant tale is like a little copse:
The honied...
Written on a Blank Space
This pleasant tale is like a little copse:
The honied...
Written Before Re-Reading King Lear
O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute!
Fair plumed...
