The life of things within the sylvan Wye

by g

Until the breath of this corporeal frame, And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.”

Wordsworth beautifully writes in “Lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey,” of the nature and relationship between man with the world around him. I am heavily reminded of Emerson’s idea of how one becomes closer to “God,” by retiring to the seclusion of Nature and in what Wordsworth states as a “blessed mood,” becoming a Transparent Eyeball. What this means is that mind and body are not at all disconnected and because “God,” is something of the mind and since our bodies are contained within Nature but not limited to Nature then as a result man can become one and filter consciousness through a medium that is a intricately a part what it is conceiving. But really this is all just fancy talk for the idea that poetic purpose is not simply an aesthetic matter of meter and rhyme but in essence is the way in which man comes closer to their own form of “God,” which for Wordsworth and the Transcendentalists is nature contained within the heart of man. It seems quite clear that these “elevated thoughts; a sense sublime,” is the end result of introspection upon the mechanisms of love and the blissful recordings of man coming to terms with his own limitations of consciousness because of mortality while realizing that his spirit will rest eternally with the corporal feeding of the Divine Nature around him; that which will exist long after the poet is gone. Poetry thus becomes a blueprint for how man can come to terms with his eventually death by remembering that he is not only alive within the thoughts and memories of human beings but also that if Nature may lay us asleep in body and our thoughts can be made quiet by the power of harmony we in a sense have nothing to fear when only our body passes into the infinite but our mind remains transparent to the language that is the “God,” of the natural world.

What then is the true purpose of this poem and what are it’s rises and falls? Does this philosophy seem practical or is becoming a Transparent Eyeball really just superfluous imagination thinking that humans are anything more than animals? Or does being an animal that can think prove that whatever we may make a supported argument about is in essence true? Is “God,” within us? Did we create him so that he could be within us? Or is mind and body separate thus making “God,” a third party to the existence we have made upon the lonely planet Earth?