The World Is Too Much With Us by #WilliamWordsworth.

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.

#Poetry #Prose #Poem #FavePoems

At the Grave of Burns, 1803
Seven Years After His Death
William Wordsworth

I shiver, Spirit fierce and bold,
At thought of what I now behold:
As vapours breathed from dungeons cold,
Strike pleasure dead,
So sadness comes from out the mould
Where Burns is laid…

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https://www.poeticous.com/william-wordsworth/ii-at-the-grave-of-burns-1803-seven-years-after-his-death

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #RobertBurns #18thcentury #19thcentury #romanticism #epitaph #WilliamWordsworth