"The world," wrote Wordsworth,
"is too much with us."
Recently, on an early Sunday morning,
following a good Saturday night's rain,
we went outside to fetch the morning paper.
The grass was dewy green, the air cool,
the morning silent...
except for the distant crowing
of a cock, God's morning bugler.
And ever so often, a mother bird flew
fromher nest leaving behind her infant
chorus echoing their melodic strains of
"cheep, cheep-cheep, cheep."
Alas, our bureaucratic, computerized society
is too much with us.
"Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers
Little we see in Nature that is ours."