Here's an excerpt from Wordsworth's poem, Lines Written a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, on Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour, July 13, 1798:

Though absent long,
These forms of beauty 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 may have had no trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life;
His little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love.   

 And of course, the abbey had a neat little gift store and bookshop. It's another one of those instances where the bookshop was pretty specialized; it had a selection of history books about Tintern Abbey and Wales. But... it also had some great jewelry, flags, posters, postcards, and other keepsakes and trinkets. Lovely place, made lovelier by the abbey. Now all I want is to go curl up and read Redwall...