And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees,
To see a world in a grain of sand, And a heaven in a wild flower,
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
William Shakespeare
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour.
William Blake
There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep-sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more.
Lord Byron
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