A Beautiful Bit of Poetry

I was relaxing in front of the television this evening and one of my favorite programs quoted a bit of poetry from William Wordsworth. I thought that I would share the tenth stanza from "Intimations of Immortality From Recollections of Early Childhood".

Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!

And let the young Lambs bound

As to the tabor’s sound!

We in thought will join your throng,

Ye that pipe and ye that play,

Ye that through your hearts to-day

Feel the gladness of the May!

What though the radiance which was once so bright

Be now for ever taken from my sight,

Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;

We will grieve not, rather find

Strength in what remains behind;

In the primal sympathy

Which having been must ever be;

In the soothing thoughts that spring

Out of human suffering;

In the faith that looks through death,

In years that bring the philosophic mind.

He has a way with words that struck a cord with me. The rest of the poem is beautiful as well. If you enjoyed this, go ahead and look it up.