The human soul that through me ran

This is a snap of my parents' garden from earlier today - Spring is most definitely sprung ;-)

They've been visiting Edinburgh today, to mark their 62nd Wedding Anniversary - really hard to comprehend; especially as my better-half and I, are approaching our meagre 26th anniversary in a few weeks time!

Here's the famous William Wordsworth poem, about Spring and the perfection of nature - and the contrast with the mistakes of humanity ...

... well; I'm reminded today that - on occasion - humanity can also approximate perfection:


Lines Written in Early Spring

I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
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 ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys 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.

If 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?

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William Wordsworth (1770–1850)

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