For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone by)
To me was all in all.---I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love,
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.
William Wordsworth 
1770-1850