Hospitality should be accidental, spontaneous, and impulsive, not pre-arranged and calculated. - Alfred Austin

Where in the lily lurks the mind,
Where in the rose discern the soul? More mindless still, stream, pasture, lake;
The mountains yet more heartless seem. […] It is their silence that appals,
Their aspect motionless that awes,
When searching spirit vainly calls
On the effect to bare the Cause.

The most generous of critics, if he is to be discriminating and just, cannot, let me say again, allow that any verse which is profoundly obscure or utterly unmusical, no matter how intellectual in substance, deserves the appellation of poetry. But on a very thin thread of meaning poetry, or a very fair imitation of it, may be hung by the aid of musical sound.

One must be intoxicated by scenery, in order to appreciate it. Tranquil survey is not enough, and scrutinising curiosity is fatal.