Lines Written in Early Spring
It was a day in early spring. The poet sardines in a grove. It was then that he heard some sweet music. It was a happy blending of a large many musical notes like the song of birds, the whispering of the breeze, the rustling of leaves and the murmur of the streams etc. the poet’s mind was at rest. He was in pleasant and meditative mood. When one is on such a state one experiences pleasant thoughts.
The pleasant thoughts brought about by the joys in nature induce sad thoughts as one thinks of man and his world. Nature linked the human soul in the poet to her fair works. The more joy he saw in Nature the more it grieved his heart to think what man had made of man.
Occupying himself with the drudgery of earning and spending only man has shut himself to the pleasures the universe offers to him and, as a result, has brought misery and sorrow for himself.
The poet looked around. He saw the primrose tufts. He watched the periwinkle trailing its wreaths in that sweet bower. The flowers were pleasant, joyful. The poet strongly believed that every flower enjoyed the air it breathed. The birds around him hopped and played. The poet could not measure their thoughts. He could not know what made them playful, joyous. He could only see that they were ecstatic.
Every motion they made seemed “a thrill of pleasure.” The joyful sight of the flowers, the birds and the twigs along with the “thousand blended notes” made the poet think there was pleasure there.
The poet’s mind is caught between; his mood fluctuates between nature and the human world. Nature is all joy, all pleasure. The human world is full of sorrows. Man is a part of Nature. He aught to have been a part of Nature’s holy plan. The poet laments how man, by severing himself from Nature’s holy plan, has brought about miseries and disaster upon
The pleasant thoughts brought about by the joys in nature induce sad thoughts as one thinks of man and his world. Nature linked the human soul in the poet to her fair works. The more joy he saw in Nature the more it grieved his heart to think what man had made of man.
Occupying himself with the drudgery of earning and spending only man has shut himself to the pleasures the universe offers to him and, as a result, has brought misery and sorrow for himself.
The poet looked around. He saw the primrose tufts. He watched the periwinkle trailing its wreaths in that sweet bower. The flowers were pleasant, joyful. The poet strongly believed that every flower enjoyed the air it breathed. The birds around him hopped and played. The poet could not measure their thoughts. He could not know what made them playful, joyous. He could only see that they were ecstatic.
Every motion they made seemed “a thrill of pleasure.” The joyful sight of the flowers, the birds and the twigs along with the “thousand blended notes” made the poet think there was pleasure there.
The poet’s mind is caught between; his mood fluctuates between nature and the human world. Nature is all joy, all pleasure. The human world is full of sorrows. Man is a part of Nature. He aught to have been a part of Nature’s holy plan. The poet laments how man, by severing himself from Nature’s holy plan, has brought about miseries and disaster upon