The World is Too Much With Us

Wordsworth is a faveorite of mine, and I just love this poem.

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-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 wreathed horn.

I absolutely love this poem too!

Within a brief compass of a sonnet the poet-priest of Nature William Wordsworth pines over ungoverned pursuit of modern men for flat material gains with heir eye blind and ear deaf to the vast treasury endowed with sensuous beauties of Nature. The grossly materialistic outlook of the modern world tends to drive the poet to paganism.
Mammonism is the sole pursuit of modern men. The world has got us on fatal grip denaturing us. So we hold no appreciation to beauteous phenomena like lunar gleams bathing the seas or ceaselss howling of winds, blossoming of flowers and so on. We have been detuned from the earth's own music. The world we live in is " too much" to cope up with.

Just had to pop by and say that I sometimes think Wordsworth doesn't get enough recognition. But this has got to be one of his most outstanding sonnets, and he rather revived the sonnet, didn't he? It was the first Wordsworth poem I ever memorized. Love it!!