Country life

"Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds Exhilarate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid Nature."

"The town is man's world, but this (country life) is of God."

"How happy in his low degree, How rich in humble poverty, is he, Who leads a quiet country life; Discharged of business, void of strife, And from the griping scrivener free! Thus, ere the seeds of vice were sown, Lived men in better ages born, Who plough'd, with oxen of their own, Their small paternal field of corn. Nor trumpets summon him to war, Nor drums disturb his morning sleep, Nor knows he merchants' gainful care, Nor fears the dangers of the deep. The clamours of contentious law, And court and state, he wisely shuns, Nor bribed with hopes, nor dared with awe, To servile salutations runs."

"The country is a poem writ By God, and few decipher it."

"The country is no more left as it was originally created, than Belgrave Square remains its pristine swamp. The forest has been felled, the marsh drained, the enclosures planted, and the field ploughed. All these, begging Mr. Cowper’s pardon, are the works of man’s hands; and so is the town—the one is not more artificial than the other."

"Philosophers are moral, and poets are picturesque about the country."

"The country is lyric,—the town dramatic. When mingled, they make the most perfect musical drama."

"Rus in urbe."

"I have no relish for the country; it is a kind of healthy grave."

"At secura quies et nescia fallere vita, dives opum uariarum, at latis otia fundis, speluncae vivique lacus, at frigida tempe mugitusque boum mollesque sub arbore somni."

"The East bow'd low before the blast, In patient, deep disdain. She let the legions thunder past, And plunged in thought again."

"There are Batavian graces in all he says."

"O crassum ingenium. Suspicor fuisse Batavum."

"A land flowing with milk and honey."

"I hate the countrie's dirt and manners, yet I love the silence; I embrace the wit; A courtship, flowing here in full tide. But loathe the expense, the vanity and pride. No place each way is happy."

"Far from the gay cities, and the ways of men."

"To one who has been long in city pent, 'Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven,—to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament."

"And as I read I hear the crowing cock, I hear the note Of lark and linnet, and from every page Rise odors of ploughed field or flowery mead."

"Somewhat back from the village street Stands the old-fashion'd country seat, Across its antique portico Tall poplar-trees their shadows throw; And from its station in the hall An ancient time-piece says to all,— "Forever! never! Never—forever!""

"Mine be a cot beside the hill; A beehive's hum shall soothe my car; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near."

"Nec sit terris ultima Thule."