Ode: Intimations of Immortality

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

There was a time when meadow grove, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
to me did seem
Aparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of youre;
Turn wheresoe'er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

The Rainbow comes and goes,
and lovely is the Rose,
The Moon doth with delight
Look round her when the heavens are bare
Wateres on a starry night
are beautiful and fair;
The sunshine is a glorious birth;
But yet I know, where'er I go,
That there hath past away a glory from the earth.

What though the radiance'
Which was once so bright
Is now forever taken from my sight
Though nothing can bring back the hour,
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find,
Strength in what remains behind...

- Wordsworth