The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

The World Is Too Much With Us

by William Wordsworth



The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;

The winds that will be howling at all hours,

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;

For this, for everything, we are out of tune;

It moves us not.-Great God! I'd rather be

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear old Trition blow his wreathed horn.

My eyes burn with the need to cry

These tears from the torment I endure



My death I see in the morning light

It comes and I cannot escape it.



The first rays of dawn are showing

In the dark sky I so long to keep.



I want to run but there is no where

To flee to stave off tomorrow’s arrival.



Wish me luck, if you would please

That in the afterlife soon to come



I will get to know joy instead of sorrow.