poetry Blast Thanksgiving/ Black Friday

appy Thanksgiving!! It occurred to me to send the entirety of Alice's Restaurant, but I decided against it and in favor of these nice pictures. (see attached) And here is a poem for tomorrow: The World is Too Much With Us; Late and Soon 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. (1802 - 04)