The World is Too Much With Us
by William Wordsworth
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.
One side effect of the decade I spent studying English poetry (most of my twenties) is that fragments of poetry or sometimes whole poems often come unbidden to my mind. I think that when they do I am being told something. Here, I think it was simply that I am too caught up in my work and the excitement of opening CityWalk. I am missing the great world going by while I concentrate too much on finances—on getting and spending.
For example, a bald eagle has been spotted at Sunset Bay (http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/news/localnews/stories/012310dnmetsunsetbay.a39ece60.html) and the white pelicans have returned to White Rock Lake to winter over, but I haven’t been out to see either of them.
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Soon they will be gone for another year and if I don’t want to miss them then I need to take at least a few hours to go look.
White pelicans are enormous, prehistoric-looking birds. I benefit, perhaps anyone would, from spending some time watching them and contemplating their place in creation. Time spent like that makes me more in tune and less forlorn.
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