There is religion in everything around us
,
a calm and holy religion in the unbreathing things in Nature
.
It is
a meek and blessed influence
,
Stealing in unaware
upon the
heart
;
It comes quickly, and without
excitement
;
It has no
terror
, no
gloom
;
It does not rouse up the passions;
It is untrammelled by
creeds
;
It is written on the arched sky
;
It looks out from every star
;
It is in the sailing cloud and on the
Invisible Wind
;
It is among the hills and valleys of the Earth
Where the shrubless pinnacle pierces
the thin atmosphere of eternal winter
,
Or where the mighty forest bends before the strong wind,
With its dark waves of green foliage;
It is spread out like a legible language
upon the broad face of an unsleeping ocean;
It is the poetry of Nature
;
It is that which uplifts the spirit within us . . .
and which opens to our
imagination
to
a Earth of spiritual beauty and holiness.
John Ruskin
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