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!
The 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;
Sordid : hateful, dirty 
 Boon : favor 
 Here, Wordsworth changes his tone from inwardly sorrowful to outwardly disapproving.  We have nothing because we gave our hearts to human concerns, believing that it makes us altruistic. An example is believing that it is more profitable to kill the last remaining whale and invest the money. Unlike material pleasure, nature can’t be bought or sold; it’s just there.
The world is too much with us...