The brook and meadows bright, The flowers that dance with grace, Bring forth in heart delight, A gentle, soothing place.
The daisies, pure and calm, The trees so strong and stout, Breathe whispers of a balm, That hushes all about.
O can there be a pain, In pleasures set to flow, When nature’s hand doth reign, Full luminous and slow?
- William Wordsworth