William Wordsworth

(1770-1850 / Cumberland / England)

Written In London. September, 1802 - Poem by William Wordsworth

. O Friend! I know not which way I must look
For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,
To think that now our life is only drest
For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook,
Or groom! -- We must run glittering like a brook
In the open sunshine, or we are unblest:
The wealthiest man among us is the best:
No grandeur now in nature or in book
Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense,
This is idolatry; and these we adore:
Plain living and high thinking are no more:
The homely beauty of the good old cause
Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence,
And pure religion breathing household laws.


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Read poems about / on: innocence, sunshine, nature, work, peace, friend, beauty, september, london, running



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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