And over time the river itself changes too. It’s always changing and is always on the move. A river is a river, always there, and yet the water flowing through it is never the same water and is never still. “I thought how lovely and how strange a river is. ― William Wordsworth, quote from Lyrical Ballads The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, Of eye, and ear,-both what they half create,Īnd what perceive well pleased to recognise Therefore am I stillįrom this green earth of all the mighty world Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,Īnd the blue sky, and in the mind of man Īll thinking things, all objects of all thought,Īnd rolls through all things. Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power Of thoughtless youth but hearing oftentimes
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