Language has not the power to speak what love indites The soul lies buried in the Ink that writes - John Clare

O take me from the busy crowd,
I cannot bear the noise!
For Nature's voice is never loud;
I seek for quiet joys.
The book I love is everywhere,
And not in idle words;
The book I love is known to all,
And better lore affords.

And what's more wonderful, when big loads foil One ant or two to carry, quickly then A swarm flock round to help their fellow-men.

When trouble haunts me, need I sigh? No, rather smile away despair;