Wordsworth Wins:

Wordsworth was moved upon by the Light of Christ when he penned these words:

          I HEARD a thousand blended notes,
       While in a grove I sate reclined,
       In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
       Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

       To her fair works did Nature link
       The human soul that through me ran;
       And much it grieved my heart to think
       What man has made of man.

       Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
       The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
       And 'tis my faith that every flower
       Enjoys the air it breathes.

       The birds around me hopped and played,
       Their thoughts I cannot measure:--
       But the least motion which they made
       It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

       The budding twigs spread out their fan,
       To catch the breezy air;
       And I must think, do all I can,
       That there was pleasure there.

       If this belief from heaven be sent,
       If such be Nature's holy plan,
       Have I not reason to lament
       What man has made of man?

May we all let our minds rest on our eternal possabilities
Of what we may become
If we allow God to do the Making of Man