"Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils."
"When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude."
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Source: William Wordsworth (1970). “The Prelude: Or, Growth of a Poet's Mind (text of 1805)”, p.24, Oxford University Press on Demand
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