" gales! Blest be the bard, whom golden Fancy loves,   He strays for ever thro’ her blooming bowers, Amid the rich profusion of her groves,   And wreathes his forehead with her spicy flowers Of sunny radiance; but how blest is he Who feels the genuine force of high Sublimity!   "

― Alfred Tennyson , The Complete Works of Alfred Tennyson