The World is too Much with Us

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-gather'd 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 wre`athed horn.




Although William Wordsworth wrote this poem in 1807,
warning his countrymen that they had lost sight of
what was important, it sounds very contemporary.

Louise Silva
Disabilities Services
Rm 216C