On The Companionship With Nature

Let us be much with Nature; not as they That labour without seeing, that employ Her unloved forces, blindly without joy; Nor those whose hands and crude delights obey The old brute passion to hunt down and slay; But rather as children of one common birth, Discerning in each natural fruit of earth Kinship and bond with this diviner clay. Let us be with her wholly at all hours, With the fond lover's zest, who is content If his ear hears, and if his eye but sees; So shall we grow like her in mould and bent, Our bodies stately as her blessèd trees, Our thoughts as sweet and sumptuous as her flowers.