James in Connecticut, Spring 2004
Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth . . .
. . . 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 all my moral being.
William Wordsworth, from “Tintern Abbey”