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William Wordsworth - The Tables Turned
Work rating: Medium

.    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.
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