I can relate to the melancholy of this poem, having many times “sat reclined” in my own grove, contemplating what “man has done to man.”
People like Frank are a beautiful antidote to my ambivalence about humankind. He’s made it his life’s work to build compassion and understanding for the planet’s reptilian and amphibian residents. I “met” Frank through Flickr and am continuously inspired by the work he does with his organization EcoSnake. Great photos, too, of his beloved charges.
Lines Written In Early Spring
by William Wordsworth
I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sat 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?