The World Is Too Much With Us
William Wordsworth
1770 to 1850
Type into the gaps to complete the poem. To reset the game, click on the "Reset Game" button located below the poem. This will clear all the words you've placed in the blanks, and resetting the poem to its original state with empty blanks. If you prefer to drag and drop words, click the Drag & Drop button below. You can also print out the poem for use in the classroom.
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
we see in Nature that is ours;
We have our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be
Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.