“Lovely the woods, waters, meadows, combes, vales,
All the air things wear that build this world of Wales.”

“Road poured out into a place of meadows and a few White man’s buildings. Lots of wagons. Horses posted and tied, grazing on the meadow grass. Sounds of metal hammers ringing, chopping of axes in the wood, screech of saws going back and forth, all kinds of White-man forest-killing sounds. A White man’s town.”

“Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain,
Here earth and water seem to strive again,
Not chaos-like together crushed and bruised,
But, as the world, harmoniously confused:
Where order in variety we see,
And where, though all things differ, all agree.”

“I'le delight in Vales, near pleasant Floods,
And unrenown'd, haunt Rivers, Hills and Woods.”

“The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.”

“Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years;
And all that life is love.”

“The closer you get to real matter, rock air fire and wood, boy, the more spiritual the world is.”

“The truth is: the natural world is changing. And we are totally dependent on that world. It provides our food, water and air. It is the most precious thing we have and we need to defend it.”

“He wales a portion with judicious care;
And "Let us worship God" he says, with solemn air.”

“All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair —
The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing —
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.”