And also power to feel her and enjoy;
Not merely with a cold and wond'ring glance,
Thou didst permit me in her depths profound,
As in the bosom of a friend, to gaze;
Before me thou dost lead her living tribes,
And dost in silent grove, in air and stream,
Teach me to know my kindred....
His feeling was not admiration alone, nor reverence alone, but the sympathy of Childe Harold:
Are not the mountains, waves, and skies a part
Of me and of my soul, as I of them?