You say a man becomes dull
when moping at home alone.
He needs to be challenged,
prodded, and made fun of.
But I’m free like a child
on his own, when I’m not bound
by unimportant distractions
and needing to keep up appearances.
Personal Talk II
— by William Wordsworth
“Yet life,” you say, “is life; we have seen and see
And with a living pleasure we describe;
And fits of sprightly malice do but bribe
The languid mind into activity.
Sound sense, and love itself, and mirth and glee
Are fostered by the comment and the gibe.”
Even be it so; yet still among your tribe,
Our daily world’s true Worldlings, rank not me!
Children are blest, and powerful; their world lies
More justly balanced; partly at their feet,
And part far from them: sweetest melodies
Are those that are by distance made more sweet;
Whose mind is but the mind of his own eyes,
He is a Slave; the meanest we can meet!