And yet it is a glorious thing To see such courage in the pest! A sky above, a wall of fine ; The sun on every longing sense, And so the hills, the woodlands green, The vale and distant river glinting! How, dotted through the open space, The restless, keen-intellect in motion, Surge of the human soul, and face! The noise of man no more shall drown The melancholy sound of night!

• Robert Browning