Earth fills her lap with ...

Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother\'s mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster child, her inmate man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came.
Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster child, her inmate man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came.
 William Wordsworth

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Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
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Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he That every man in arms should wish to be? It is the generous spirit, who, when brought Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought: Whose high endeavors are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright: Who, with a natural instinct to discern What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn; And in himself posses his own desire
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All men feel a habitual gratitude, and something of an honorable bigotry, for the objects which have long continued to please them.
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Bound each to each by natural piety.
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The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.
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 William Wordsworth