Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot |
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,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
Of all my moral being.
Wordsworth
Wordsworth's love for nature is moving. I don't know if any other poet conveys that sense of peace and
rootedness the way he does. I can almost feel the man behind this poem - see him walking the trails, tramping over moors, through woods, observing and taking in the landscapes, the fresh air filling him and strengthening him, lifting him out of himself. I can relate. I wouldn't go so far as to say nature is the "soul of all my moral being", but the beauty of wild places and things is a necessity to my health - and I think that's true of all of us, whether we recognize it or not.
Wordsworth's love for nature is moving. I don't know if any other poet conveys that sense of peace and
rootedness the way he does. I can almost feel the man behind this poem - see him walking the trails, tramping over moors, through woods, observing and taking in the landscapes, the fresh air filling him and strengthening him, lifting him out of himself. I can relate. I wouldn't go so far as to say nature is the "soul of all my moral being", but the beauty of wild places and things is a necessity to my health - and I think that's true of all of us, whether we recognize it or not.
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