Timothy

“To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
Is lightened:—that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on,—
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.”
― William Wordsworth, Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey

“These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines / Of sportive wood run wild”
― William Wordsworth, Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey

“Therefore am I still / A lover of the meadows and the woods, / And mountains; and of all that we behold / From this green earth; of all the mighty world / Of eye and ear, both what they half create / And what perceive; well pleased to recognize / In nature and the language of the sense, / The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse/ The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul / Of all my moral being.”
― William Wordsworth, Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey

“For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.”
― William Wordsworth, Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey