Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
William WordsworthPleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
William WordsworthThe light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet's dream.
William Wordsworth