And what if thou, sweet May, hast known_x000D_ _x000D_ Mishap by worm and blight;_x000D_ _x000D_ If expectations newly blown_x000D_ _x000D_ Have perished in thy sight;_x000D_ _x000D_ If loves and joys, while up they sprung,_x000D_ _x000D_ Were caught as in a snare;_x000D_ _x000D_ Such is the lot of all the young,_x000D_ _x000D_ However bright and fair.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the inevitable challenges and heartaches that come with youth, despite its beauty and potential.
In this quote, William Wordsworth contemplates the frustrations and disappointments that accompany youthful hopes and dreams. He is suggesting that even in the midst of vibrant possibilities, young people often face setbacks and hardships that can dampen their spirits and hinder their aspirations. This universal experience serves as a reminder that life is a mixture of joy and sorrow, and that the trials faced during one's early years are, unfortunately, part of the human condition.
In practice
This quote is perfect for a graduation speech to remind students that life has both ups and downs.
For mightier far_x000D_ _x000D_ Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway_x000D_ _x000D_ Of magic potent over sun and star,_x000D_ _x000D_ Is love, though oft to agony distrest,_x000D_ _x000D_ And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,_x000D_ _x000D_ The earth, and every common sight,_x000D_ _x000D_ To me did seem_x000D_ _x000D_ Apparelled in celestial light,_x000D_ _x000D_ The glory and the freshness of a dream.
Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
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! The 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.
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
Tears unnumbered ye shall shed.
Life is too bitter already, without territories and wars and noble feuds
We are all the heroes and heroines of our own lives. Our love stories are amazingly romantic; our losses and betrayals and disappointments are gigantic in our own minds.
We never remember days, only moments.
And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart: Your seeds shall live in my body, And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart, And your fragrance shall be my breath, And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.
Life is a promise; fulfill it.
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