--Description: Wordsworth W., 19th C, Humanity, Nature, Seasons
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
The birds around me hopped and played,
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
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?
--Did You Know: Wordsworth's widow Mary (one of his four wives) published his lengthy autobiographical "poem to Coleridge" as The Prelude several months after his death.. It has since come to be recognized as his masterpiece.
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