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 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. 请问有人知道这首诗的翻译吗？ 或者是有翻译、解释的网站… 请回到我的信箱~~~thanks ^_________^ --

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