Some of the trains on the tube have this thing called "Poetry on the Underground", which is the printing of various poems along the upper strip of the wall, mixed in with the ads for banks and travel agencies. And coming home from work today on the Circle Line (because some ASSHAT STOLE MY FRONT WHEEL OFF MY BIKE LAST NIGHT AAAAARGGH SO I HAVE TO TAKE THE TUBE DOUBLE AAAAARGGH), I saw this poem. And for the moment, and from where I am, it feels fitting.
from The Prelude
Now free,
Free as a bird to settle where I will.
What dwelling shall receive me? in what vale
Shall be my harbour? underneath what grove
Shall I take up my home? and what clear stream
Shall with its murmur lull me to rest?
The earth is all before me. With a heart
Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty,
I look about; and should the chosen guide
Be nothing better than a wandering cloud,
I cannot miss my way.
I, 8-18
- William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
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