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Excerpt from COMPOSED A FEW MILES ABOVE TINTERN ABBEY, ON REVISITING THE BANKS OF THE WYE DURING A TOUR. JULY 13, 1798  by William Wordsworth

 

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,      

Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power      

To chasten and subdue. And I have felt      

A presence that disturbs me with the joy      

Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime      

Of something far more deeply interfused,      

Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,      

And the round ocean and the living air,      

And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;      

A motion and a spirit, that impels                                

All thinking things, all objects of all thought,      

And rolls through all things. 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.