Chapter 7 to wordsworth

to wordsworth O singer of nature, you cannot help weeping, For you know that all things go and never come back: Childhood, youth, friendship, the joy of first love, All passed away like a dream, making you sad. I feel the same way as you.but there is a misfortune You feel it, but I am the only one who sighs. You were like a lonely star, turning the light To the frail boat in the winter night waves, And like a stone-built harbor of refuge Standing above the blind struggling crowd; In honorable poverty you constructed A song of devotion and liberty, devotion and truth— But you let it go, I can't help but mourn

In the past you were like that, but today you are like this. Published in 1816 Annotation: Wordsworth is a romantic novel in the early nineteenth century in England. socialist poet.In the early years, I yearned for revolution, but later abandoned it. It is this transformation of his that Shelley expresses his "mournment" in this poem. and "regret". Translated by Cha Liangzheng