Superstition lives longer than books, it is engraved on the human mind 'til it becomes a part of its existence. - John Clare

I find more pleasure in wandering the fields than in musing among my silent neighbours who are insensible to everything but toiling and talking of it and that to no purpose.

I wish I was what I have been
And what I was could be
As when I roved in shadows green
And loved my willow tree

To gaze upon the starry sky
And higher fancies build
And make in solitary joy
Loves temple in the field

This world has suns, but they are overcast; This world has sweets, but they're of ling'ring bloom; Life still expects, and empty falls at last; Warm Hope on tiptoe drops into the tomb.