Inhibition, inanition
is there a place in this nation
for a little consolation?
Always getting high
to a point of no return
where angels can fly
and nothing can burn.
Yesterday, today, tomorrow
always living in this circle
escaping a land of sorrow
Dying to find a new circle
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MY heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began,
So is it now I am a man,
So be it when I shall grow old
Or let me die!
The child is father of the man:
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
1802, William Wordsworth
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