"Oh there is blessing in this gentle breeze,
A visitant that while it fans my cheek
Doth seem half - conscious of the joy it brings
From the green fields and from yon azure sky
What'er its mission, the soft breeze can come
To none more grateful than to me; escaped
From the vast city, where I long had pined
A discontented sojourner; now free,
Free as a bird to settle where I will."
William Wordswordworth, from "The Prelude"