Writing and Wordsworth

I've been trying to write a draft of a poem every morning, and the exercise I tried yesterday was one I am borrowing from my friend, Dawn Potter. I used the first line of this poem by Wordsworth, ran it word by word down the left margin, and wrote between. It was interesting as an exercise, and I'm pretty sure it won't go anywhere as it currently stands, but it was fun to push myself to make sure that the words fit the sentences and the general sense of things. 

It is one of my favorite poems, too, which is helpful. The trick, I think, is to make the new poem honor the sense of the original. At any rate, here's Wordsworth, and have a good day!

C

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!

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 wreathèd horn.