Thitherward I Tend (Fears in Solitude by S.T. Coleridge)

Coleridge's "Fears in Solitude" is one of my favourite poems. I'll begin with the most important lines, though they appear near the end:
With light
And quicken'd footsteps thitherward I tend,
Rememb'ring thee, O green and silent dell!
The name of this channel, which plays with the archaic "thitherward", suggests a melding of the power of place and word. Discovering this poem some time after I created the name was frankly astonishing since Coleridge's sentiment perfectly encapsulates the Thitherword ethos (this channel and the online journal). Taken together with the whole poem, these lines signify the importance of walking with the Earth as we go through life.
When Coleridge speaks of his "quiet spirit-healing nook," I think of Glen Coe and Creag Meagaidh, and how I keep these places inside after the return journey, which is a major theme of the poem.
I experienced an upwelling of emotion when I first read the passage exalting Britain herself ("O native Britain! O my mother Isle!"). I particularly love these lines, which never fail to give me goosebumps:
There lives nor form nor feeling in my soul
Unborrow'd from my country! O divine
And beauteous island, thou hast been my sole
And most magnificent temple, in the which
I walk with awe, and sing my stately songs,
Loving the God that made me!-
There's something so simple yet powerful about the idea that we're shaped by the country into which we're born. My one life on this planet is shared with that of the British Isles. I am, in a sense, Britain. Every single yearning I've ever had about the importance of nature and heritage is tied up with this land, which I should therefore cherish. Such sentiments are rare these days. Also, I also find Coleridge's critique of politics and war reminiscent of Lord Dunsany's short story "The Day of The Poll". Dunsany's story turns away from the world of men and all his doings for a time to dwell on the cyclical beauty of nature.
As for the divine, although I try to hold to an animistic and non-theistic view of Earth-centred sacrality, the sentiments about God here are potent. Coleridge's Romanticism and temperate, nature-oriented view of Christianity are appealing. It's poems like this that have affirmed my thinking over the years that not all Christians think alike and that Christianity isn't (entirely) at fault for humanity's world-denying stance since so many twist its teachings. All I know is that I'm open in respect to the divine and often find myself thinking about a singular creative force despite how much this chafes against my established worldview. I once would've hated Coleridge for his attack on atheism. Instead, I find myself nodding with him at many points during the poem, which shares much in common with Tolkien's "Mythopoeia".
And may I point out how similar in style to Mervyn Peake and H.P Lovecraft is that line about the owlet?
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