Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. IV. The Nineteenth Century: Wordsworth to Rossetti
William Wordsworth (17701850)Lines Written in Early Spring
I
While in a grove I sat reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
Their thoughts I cannot measure:—
But the least motion which they made,
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?