![]() I love not Man the less, but Nature more. "There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar: I love not man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal. The part I've found of greatest consolation is this excerpt: The latter is used to reference the power of the sea as well as humankind’s lack of power in the face of the indomitable ocean. (1) From the narrative poem, 'Childe Harold's Pilgrimage' by Lord Byron. Lord Byron - Childe Harolds Pilgrimage There is a pleasure in the pathless woods Written/Published: 3rd March 1812 Theme: In these lines of ‘Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,’ the poet engages with themes of change, the sea, and power. For the fresh year ahead, instead of planning every step, let’s embrace squeaking some floorboards and remember that “There is pleasure in the pathless woods”. If 2020 has made anything clear it’s that life plans sit on top of some shaky foundations. ![]() The world decides it’s time to have a sticky beak into your life plans and asks the question that launches a thousand ships of existential dread, “What are you going to do for the rest of your life?”. During this time, the world revels in your infinite potential, leaving you giddy with the possibilities, but then you hit a turning point. By the deep sea, and music in its roar: I love not man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal. The years go by and you progress through school and into university. ![]() As babies, we have the easy job of being squishy, cute, and jumping some simple hurdles: walking, talking, and learning to not cover your little brother in baby oil and talcum powder for the giggles. To this day, my bones still remember how to tread across the hallway floorboards without making a single squeak.Īfter growing out of imagining vampires, the fear of not having a plan settled in. My imagination had decided that vampires were lurking in the dark, and not the sparkling sort that would have boys and girls swooning come the twilight of the new millennium, but the classic demonic kind.įaced with these monsters, my six-year-old brain reasoned that the only way of surviving the round trip from my bedroom to the bathroom depended on my being pin drop silent. As a child, hearing the call of nature during the middle of the night felt life threatening.
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