Let my delight be the country, and the running streams amid the dells—may I love the waters and the woods… — Virgil

For God, they say, pervades all things, earth and sea's expanse and heaven's depth.

His cares are eased with intervals of bliss;

His little children, climbing for a kiss,

Welcome their father's late return at night;

His faithful bed is crowned with chaste delight.

Yet theirs is repose without care, and a life that knows no fraud, but is rich in treasures manifold.