famous poetry

i am in love with high far-seeing places
by the rude bridge
as it
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
under a spreading chestnut tree
among the mountains i wandered
the light withdrawn
why then, must we see?
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
you are clear
that year
the poets tell
let us pity those who are better off than we are
were it not for that singular smell