There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.

Where the last view of the sea is lost, A step away from where the doubt I bear, And rolling hills conspire to toss, With wildflowers, sacred and rare.

• George Gordon Lord Byron