In November days,
When vapours, rolling down the valleys, made
A lonely scene more lonesome; among woods
At noon, and amid the calm of summer nights,
When, by the margin of the trembling Lake,
Beneath the gloomy hills I homeward went
In solitude, such intercourse was mine;
'Twas mine among the fields both day and night,
And by the waters all the summer long.

Wordsworth, "The Prelude"