A friend sent me this passage. At the time I did not realise that it was Wordsworth…

This spiritual Love acts not nor can exist
Without Imagination, which, in truth,
Is but another name for absolute power
And clearest insight, amplitude of mind,
And Reason in her most exalted mood.
This faculty hath been the feeding source
Of our long labour: we have traced the stream
From the blind cavern whence is faintly heard
Its natal murmur; followed it to light
And open day; accompanied its course
Among the ways of Nature, for a time
Lost sight of it bewildered and engulfed;
Then given it greeting as it rose once more
In strength, reflecting from its placid breast
The works of man and face of human life;
And lastly,from its progress have we drawn
Faith in life endless, the sustaining thought
Of human Being, Eternity, and God”.

and I wrote this response….

“Faith in life endless”, such sustaining thought
Has crept upon us from a source unseen yet
By no means unknown for, though ceaselessly sought,
It concedes nothing to those who would get
Some low or high advantage from its sport,
But rather, as fair and true ancestors beget
Their offspring by all most hidden comport,
It too will only yield its mystery secret
To those whose faith o’erwhelms all rational report
And to those graced few that it did so vet
It shows a way where’s needless to labour or court
The fates with own amplitudes one must trumpet
For in its unstinting love there is no “ought”
Or progress by compunction, merely a long set
Gaze of unremitting cherishment unsought
Wherein we may find Being, Eternity and, yes, God, even yet.