Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury. 1875.
William Wordsworth CCLXXII. Written in Early SpringI
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.
The periwinkle trail’d its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
Their thoughts I cannot measure,
But the least motion which they made
It seem’d a thrill of pleasure.
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?