The World Is Too Much With Us

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!
This 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 Triton blow his wreathed horn.
I studied this sonnet by Wordsworth when I was at school. I didn’t understand it back then, but I’m beginning to understand it now.
I woke up the other day and there was a deer outside my window. It was in a field of long grass, walking cautiously. A breeze shook the trees and made the grass sway like waves. For a moment, it looked like the deer was swimming. I gazed and gazed as it swam in the waves, and it reminded me of Wordsworth. But then I got bored and watched a Lady Gaga video on YouTube.