William Wordsworth: Lines Written in Early Spring

I heard a thousand blended notes, 

While in a grove I sate reclined, 

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts 

Bring sad thoughts to the mind. 



To her fair works did Nature link 

The human soul that through me ran; 

And much it grieved my heart to think 

What man has made of man. 



Through primrose tufts, in that green bower, 

The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; 

And ’tis my faith that every flower 

Enjoys the air it breathes. 



The birds around me hopped and played, 

Their thoughts I cannot measure:— 

But the least motion which they made 

It seemed a thrill of pleasure. 



The budding twigs spread out their fan, 

To catch the breezy air; 

And I must think, do all I can, 

That there was pleasure there. 



If this belief from heaven be sent, 

If such be Nature’s holy plan, 

Have I not reason to lament 

What man has made of man?

William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850) was one of the founders of English Romanticism and one its most central figures and important intellects. He is remembered as a poet of spiritual and epistemological speculation, a poet concerned with the human relationship to nature and a fierce advocate of using the vocabulary and speech patterns of common people in poetry. 

Public Domain