Lines Written In Early Spring
by William Wordsworth
I heard a thousand blended notes
while in a grove I sat 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 leaves
and 'tis my faith that every flower
enjoyed the air it breathed.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure,
but each motion that 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?
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