Saturday, August 29, 2020

3418. Poetry: There Is a Pleasure in the Pathless Woods

By George Gordon Byron [1788-1824] 



There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore,


There is society, where none intrudes,


By the deep sea, and music in its roar:


I love not man the less, but Nature more,


From these our interviews, in which I steal


From all I may be, or have been before,


To mingle with the Universe, and feel


What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

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