Friday, June 21, 2013

Poetry Day - A presence that disturbs me with the joy

I thought it high time for a poem, and discovered I have never posted from Wordsworth's Lines Composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey, on revisiting the banks of the Wye during a tour. A friend and I read this when we visited Tintern Abbey many years ago.

Wordsworth is a self-confessed "worshiper of nature" but as someone who believes in a creation made by a Creator God, I read his poems and hear echoes of the Sehnsucht, and have my own interpretations of that "presence that disturbs me with the joy".

Picture from here.

                              For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear,–both what they half create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
Of all my moral being.

William Wordsworth

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