There is something about the simplicity of this poem that has always appealed to me…
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…
And despite the simplicity, there is a deep spirituality as well. There is a connection with nature:
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?
It’s as if the whole poem sings about the joys of life and nature, whilst still aware of the realities of life (“What man has made of man…”).
But I do not dwell on the injustices of life, although I am reminded of them when I read this poem. I am left with Wordsworth’s wonderful vision of life.
Did you enjoy this poem too?
You can read it without images here: