Lord Byron, from “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage” LXSV.

“Are not the mountains, waves, and skies a part

of me and of my soul, as I of them?

Is not the love of these deep in my heart

With a pure passion? should I not contemn

All objects, if compared with these? and stem

A tide of suffering, rather than forego

Such feelings for the hard and worldly phlegm

Of those whose eyes are only turned below,

Gazing upon the ground, with thoughts which dare not glow?”

 

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http://kck.st/QB8XPQ

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