from this green earth ~

~ 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 recognise 

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 my moral being.

Wordsworth ~ written a few miles above Tintern Abbey on revisiting the banks of the Wye during a tour in 1798