The Tables Turned by William Wordsworth - Sourced From:(https://www.poetryfoundation.org)
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
The sun above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless—
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by cheerfulness.
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:—
We murder to dissect.
Enough of Science and of Art;
Close up those barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
The Inosculated Trees- The Tables turned by William Wordsworth
Clarence Williamson was quite lost. A simple journey from town to town this was meant to be, but the forest had now engulfed his direction. Mr Williamson’s books had told him everything about the forest and its creatures but no book could ever tell him of this, for this was something from deep inside him, a strange reaction from his bottled emotions and the freedomwhich nature can grant.
Concentrating on his footsteps, Mr Williamson tried not to think about the events which had occurred only hours ago. But they refused to leave his mind; his vision began to blur with the indecent lens of tears as he thought of her broken, yet satisfied face. Cassandra was aware of his secret even before he was; she’d shoved his shoulders out of the door, screaming “You never loved me Clarence! Why must you pretend?” At the time, he had boiled with anger, but now he bowed his head with guilt because he knew that she was telling the paradox truth. His melancholies in fact came from the thought of leaving his beloved students rather than his wife. With a vociferous sigh, he looked down at the winding dirt track and breathed in the sharp scent of decaying leaves and branches.
He had overheard one of his older students talk about people who came to these places; his lips moved in purpose to entertain and enthral his listeners. Their eyebrows jumped in disbelief when he’d said “Some romantic’s say that the forest offers them knowledge and a humble sense of solitude.” Yet, Mr Williamson did not feel this way at all. He felt panicked and belittled by the towering trees; he felt a sudden urge to escape and with that, Mr Williamson whirled around and started off walking the direction he came in. But just as...