Beauté de la Nature et action de l'homme (mémoire de W. Wordsworth (1770-1850)) PDF Print E-mail
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Written by FWD by Adib Gabriel Hathout   
Saturday, 27 October 2012 10:02
1 I heard a thousand blended notes,
2 While in a grove I sate reclined,
3 In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
4 Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
5 To her fair works did nature link
6 The human soul that through me ran;
7 And much it griev'd me my heart to think
8 What man has made of man.
9 Through primrose-tufts, in that sweet bower,
10 The periwinkle trail'd its wreathes;
11 And 'tis my faith that every flower
12 Enjoys the air it breathes.
13 The birds around me hopp'd and play'd:
14 Their thoughts I cannot measure,
15 But the least motion which they made,
16 It seem'd a thrill of pleasure.
17 The budding twigs spread out their fan,
18 To catch the breezy air;
19 And I must think, do all I can,
20 That there was pleasure there.
21 If I these thoughts may not prevent,
22 If such be of my creed the plan,
23 Have I not reason to lament
24 What man has made of man?
 

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