" I roved o'er many a hill and many a dale
With this my weary load, in heat and cold,
Through many a wood, and many an open ground,
In sunshine or in shade, in wet or fair,
Now blithe, now drooping, as it might befal,
My best companions now the driving winds
And now the trotting brooks and whispering trees
And now the music of my own sad steps,
With many a short-lived thought that pass'd between
And disappeared. "

― William Wordsworth , Ruined Cottage