The World Is Too Much with Us

I think I'll start this fresh, brand new blog with a poem. Not being a 'poetry person' I recently picked up a book called "The 100 Best Poems Of All Time" - I like it because of its ballsy title. The editor, Leslie Pockell, keeps it real by telling us that she is not the last word on best poems, obviously, and that everyone has their own opinion. Anyway here is my current favorite, 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!
The 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 read this poem on my lunch break, and then read it again, and then a third time. This is unusual for me - poetry tends to make me roll my eyes. Or maybe just high school English class poetry made me roll my eyes? I know I breezed through it in college. But something made me pick up this book of poetry and I like where it's taking me.