"Lines
Written In Early Spring"
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?
~From
Lyrical
Ballads, With Other Poems 
By William Wordsworth
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