"These beauteous forms, Through a long absence, have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye: But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart, And passing even into my purer mind, With tranquil restoration:--feelings, too, Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps, As have no slight or trivial influence On that best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love." And he asserts that he is indebted to the influence of nature for yet another gift, "Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world Is lightened"; and his train of thought reaches its conclusion in the feeling of assurance that this happiness produced in him by the sight of the familiar places is not mere momentary pleasure, but _life and food for future years_. Again and again this last idea recurs in Wordsworth's poetry. We have it very marked, for instance, in No. xv. of the _Poems of Imagination_, in which he tells of the impression produced on him, during a lonely walk, by the sudden sight of "a host of golden daffodils," "Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I gazed--and gazed--but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought. For oft when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude, And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils." Nothing could be more unlike the lyric poet's usual habit of living in the present, than this lyric poet's conscious saving of the present for future use. He himself tells us that he is of a saving disposition; he collects a winter store of bright summer moments; and there is in this something genuinely human, which is too often overlooked. But there is, above all, something national in it; it is not surprising that _English_ Naturalism should begin by carefully and economically providing itself with a store, a capital, of impressions of nature.