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!
[...]
Great God! I’d rather beA 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.
