Poetry



//Lines Written In Early Spring by William Wordsworth.//

I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate 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 wreaths; And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure: -- But the least motion which 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?

[|Poem]

This poem by William Wordsworth is a romantic poem because the poem is talking about the ways that men treat each other. The poem talks about how the birds play with each other and seem to have fun with one another, and the twigs that just float through the sky are having pleasure with the wind. The poem is explaining how the nature around the narrator makes him think of his life and helps him fix his mood.