A sense sublime 

 Of something far more deeply interfused, 

 Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, 

 And the round ocean, and the living air, 

 And the blue sky, and in the mind of man ; 

 A motion and a spirit that impels 

 All thinking things, all objects of all thought, 

 And rolls through all things. 



In all things, in all natures, in the stars 

 Of azure heaven, the unenduring clouds, 

 In flower and tree, in every pebbly stone 

 That paves the brooks, the stationary rooks, 

 The moving waters and the invisible air. 



Wordsworth. 



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