Going back over 200 years William Wordsworth wrote these lines about feeling out of tune, feeing overwhelmed.. This flower's perfection stopped me for a few moments this week.. The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending we lay waste our powers; Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon, The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers, For this, for everything, we are out of tune..
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