The world is too much with us; late and soon$$$<br>Getting and spending$$$ we lay waste our powers;<br>Little we see in Nature that is ours;<br>We have given our hearts away$$$ a sordid boon!<br>This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;<br>The winds that will be howling at all hours$$$<br>And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers$$$<br>For this$$$ for everything$$$ we are out of tune;<br>It moves us not. Great God! Id rather be<br>A pagan suckled in a creed outworn;<br>So might I$$$ standing on this pleasant lea$$$<br>Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;<br>Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;<br>Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
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