One impulse from a vernal wood

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I went out one bright April morning into a vernal wood; it’s the nearest Wiltshire Wildlife Trust reserve to where I live, and I did so with Wordsworth’s insight in my head:

One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.

It’s not that I really believe this, or that I actually went seeking insight, it’s its sense of possibility that is so inspiring – and, of course, the reminder that teachers aren’t essential for learning.  Wordsworth saw the wood, actually nature, as the teacher in this case, as another (much less sublime) stanza shows:

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.

As it happened, I went out after reading a review in  THE of A Philosophy of Walking, by Frédéric Gros, which has made me want to walk and walk and walk.  There is, of course, little stopping me.

Meanwhile, here’s The Tables Turned in full as a reminder that Wordsworth still speaks to the human condition:

 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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