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I Heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sat recline,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man
Through primrose tufts, in that green bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’t is my faith that every flower
Enjoy the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:—
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
It this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
SUMMARY
“Composed while I was sitting by the side of the brook that runs down from Combe in which stands the village of Alford, through the rocks of Alfoxden,” said Wordsworth.
Wordsworth’s poems Lines Written in Early Spring, fall into two groups (1) Those radiant with joy, and celebrating “Nature’s holy plan” and (2) Those which interpreting the humanity, tell “what man has made of man.” Both ideas are present in the poem. The flowers, leaves, birds etc. enjoy themselves in nature, but man has become a stranger to this joy.