Show 0 II OLD MASTERS J The world is too much with us 1 1 and soon Getting and spending we lay hay o 0 powers 51 LIttle we see in Nature that ours We Ve have given our hearts awa sordid boon ThIs sea that bares her bosom the moon The winds that will be all hours And are gathered up-gathered now sleeping flow rs J For this for everything we se are o 0 of tune 1 It moves us not Great God 4 tJ rather be beA A Pagan suckled in a creed ou from orn ISo J I So might I. I standing on this plea ant lea I Have glimpses that would mame mat ma me less forlorn Have Haye sight ot of Proteus rising lie fio liethe the sea Or hear old Triton blow Jh h wreathed horn j William Wordsworth Sonner Sonne It If the red slayer thinks he slays Or if the slain think he Is They know not well the subtle wI t tI I keep leep and pass and turn agi agai Far or f forgot to me Is near Shadow land sunlight Ire t U same I 1 IThe The fhe vanished gods to me And one to me are shame l fame 1 They reckon m ill who leave lea me 6 When me they fly I em am wings j r I am the doubter and the he doubt And I the hymn the Brahm sings j The strong gods pine for my abod And pine In vain the sacr Seven But thou meek lover tover of the goo I Find me and turn thy back heaven Ralph Waldo Valdo Emerson Brahma Brahina I |