O Friend! I know not which way I must look
For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,
To think that now our life is only drest
For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook,
Or groom!-We must run glittering like a brook
In the open sunshine, or we are unblest:
The wealthiest man among us is the best:
No grandeur now in nature or in book
Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense,
This is idolatry; and these we adore:
Plain living and high thinking are no more:
The homely beauty of the good old cause
Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence,
And pure religion breathing household laws.
Written In London. September, 1802
William Wordsworth
(2)
Poem topics: beauty, friend, innocence, life, nature, peace, sunshine, work, fearful, good, religion, plain, pure, book, high, open, adore, comfort, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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