The World is Too Much With Us: Late and Soon


          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;                         10
          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 Triton blow his wreathed horn. 


I recently read a beautiful post commenting on our cultural tendency toward wearing "busyness" as badge. I ended up making a very long-winded comment on the post and thinking about the purpose and place of productivity and work all day long. Amy also included this beautiful poem by William Wordsworth. Will's always laying it down, right?

Do you find yourself apologizing for not being busy enough? Do you think you're too busy? The more I thought about busyness the more ridiculous the word sounded and clouded the meaning became.