Wednesday, March 23, 2011
"For This, For Everything, We Are Out of Tune"
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!
The 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 wreathed horn.
Thanks Grandmere for sending this.
Posted by Counterlight at Wednesday, March 23, 2011
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Lovely post, Counterlight. The painting, the poem, the title of the post, all fit together perfectly.
"Love" is not enough to describe how I feel about Friedrich!
I keep thinking this is my own head (feeling everything is rather sucktastic right now).
Then I see it reflected in everybody else, too! [Well, I'm still going to ask the doctor 4/1---first time I've seen a doctor since moving last summer---to get me back on the head meds (which ran out last August) anyway. I'm sure it couldn't hurt!]
What Grandmère said!
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