In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . .
Interpretation
The quote expresses the joy found in nature and the simple pleasures of life.
William Wordsworth's quote captures the essence of tranquility and delight in nature. The imagery of sitting in a secluded spot amidst an orchard, greeting the birds and flowers, reflects a harmonious relationship with the natural world. It emphasizes the restorative power of nature and how it can provide a sense of peace and happiness.
In practice
This quote could be used to inspire a nature walk event in a community.
For mightier far_x000D_ _x000D_ Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway_x000D_ _x000D_ Of magic potent over sun and star,_x000D_ _x000D_ Is love, though oft to agony distrest,_x000D_ _x000D_ And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,_x000D_ _x000D_ The earth, and every common sight,_x000D_ _x000D_ To me did seem_x000D_ _x000D_ Apparelled in celestial light,_x000D_ _x000D_ The glory and the freshness of a dream.
Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune.
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
I like to think_x000D_ (it has to be!)_x000D_ of a cybernetic ecology_x000D_ where we are free of our labors_x000D_ and joined back to nature,_x000D_ returned to our mammal_x000D_ brothers and sisters,_x000D_ and all watched over_x000D_ by machines of loving grace.
The sweet small clumsy feet of april came into the ragged meadow of my soul.
It is a sad moment when the first phlox appears. It is the amber light indicating the end of the great burst of early summer and suggesting that we must now start looking forward to autumn. Not that I have any objection to autumn as a season, full of its own beauty; but I just cannot bear to see another summer go, and I recoil from what the first hint of autumn means.
It is the preservation of the species, not of individuals, which appears to be the design of Deity throughout the whole of nature.
It's the little details I love. How to fletch your arrows with owl feathers, because owls fly silently, so maybe your arrows will, too. How to carry fire in a piece of smouldering fungus wrapped in birchbark. These are the things which help a world come alive.
Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies,_x000D_ Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies:_x000D_ The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,_x000D_ On ev'ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;_x000D_ Harmonious lays the feather'd race resume,_x000D_ Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.