Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; ‘tis her privilege Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all

The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is full of blessings. . . . Though nothing can bring back The hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;

We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the thought of God that comes To me from the向 of hills and from the vale.

And we will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the thought of God that comes To me from theہوں of hills and from the vale.

I was made aware of the world, Of the sorrow that it is;

• William Wordsworth