Directs me, when all ways that people tread
Seem to the quiet of my being, foes,
If some lone shore, or fountain-head, or rill
Or shady glen, between two slopes outspread,
I find--my daunted soul doth there repose....
On mountain heights, in briary woods, I find
Some rest; but every dwelling place on earth
Appeareth to my eyes a deadly bane....
Where some tall pine or hillock spreads a shade,
I sometimes halt, and on the nearest brink