Monday, 28 May 2007

The world is too much with us

The bush cocoons with silence. Soft hush of footsteps on the sandy track. A distant toot from a steam train sweeps us to a past era. Jarred by the groan of a motorbike stirring up dirt somewhere through the trees and a helicopter flying like an angry gnat along the cliff face.

Words to walk with:
From the sonnet The World is Too Much With Us by William Wordsworth
“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!”


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