Lines written in early Spring

[trinkie]

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?

[cliffhbuber]

by Mr. Wordsworth's great great grand admirer....pseudonym of cliffhbuber

I wandered lonely as a large clod,
Ne'er to wander over hill and dale,
Lost in a city like a landed cod,
Bit hard the bait of a rancid snail.

Poppycocks ahoy, and blithsome garb,
Tripping over rocks by garden yonder,
Loose-leathered shoes and trip on a barb,
Of thistles crested by fluffy donder.

Wherest I end up with no place to sleep,
False hopes trudge on past closed shops and pubs,
My tired mind wrestles down in the deep,
Keeping heavy eyes open with rubs.

Unsteady legs, stumbling feet stagger on,
Toward flickering light in distant dark,
Will my journey end with warm fire 'fore dawn?
Tis a wordly trip just around a park.

* the first line only is attributed to Mad magazine 1958)