
William Wordsworth’s phrase, “surprised by joy,” comes to mind whenever I experience one of these unexpectedly joyful moments of life. But I always, always forget that “surprised by joy” was occasioned by immeasurable grief. It’s only when I go back to the poem that I remember.

“XXIX [Surprised by joy–impatient as the Wind]” is in the public domain. Retrieved from https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/xxix-surprised-joy-impatient-wind September 16, 2018.
People in the nineteenth century embraced death in such an intimate way.
LikeLiked by 2 people
One just has to visit an English garden cemetery to see this.
LikeLiked by 1 person
From all the family histories I’ve been reading lately, I can understand why, so much early death from disease.
LikeLike
Joy and sorrow, an eternal dichotomy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wonderful image, thought and poem, Liz. A joy such as that is made all the more intense by the awareness (perhaps unconsciously) that it is but a fleeting moment that shall pass too soon — or we shall.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Well said, Brett.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, the joy of photos from beautiful Maine. 🙂 I suppose when a person is deep in sorrow it’s hard to imagine there will be joy again. And when it happens, it is a surprise. It happened for me and my siblings at my father’s funeral earlier this year.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Definitely. The little spot of joy at my dad’s funeral was his eulogy by a fond colleague. (Picture a priest on a motorcyle tearing over the roads of rural Aroostook County with his Bible, prayerbook, and Communion kit strapped in a milk crate on the back.)
LikeLiked by 2 people
That is certainly something to picture! Your comment also caused me to google Aroostook County, which looks very picturesque.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aroostook County is picturesque, but winters there last a very, very, very long time.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ll remember not to visit in winter. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hadn’t heard that before & have found it very moving. Coping with grief & loss is different for everyone – and yet the same.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’ve always felt a kinship with the British Romantics’ desire and ability to express the deepest human feelings.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have included your blog in INTERESTING BLOGS in FRIDAY FOSSICKING at
https://thatmomentintime-crissouli.blogspot.com/2018/09/friday-fossicking-sept-28th-2018.html
Thank you, Chris
Just love this poem, Liz, wonderful to read it again and the images complement it beautifully.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much for the mention, Chris!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome..
LikeLike
I like “She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways” as well.
SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
–Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be; 10
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!
1799.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like this one, too. Thank you or bringing it to our attention. Rereading a poem I haven’t read in a long time is like a reunion with an old friend.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The wonderful poem make me want to write. Thank you Liz for sharing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know exactly what you mean, John! Isn’t it wonderful when that happens?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes it is Liz. Good words, good song. Muses to write.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There is one who offers release from the grave and the reunion of love for whosoever will . . . We can choose to look to Him and not look to despair. His words are true and have shaken the mind of man for 2000+ years!
Ron
http://www.theburningheart.com
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for your comment, Ron. It’s good to be reminded of the healing power of faith.
LikeLike