To touch the sacred garments which I wear.
Upon a rock, and underneath a hill,
Far from the town (where all is whist[20] and still,
Save that the sea, playing on yellow sand,
Sends forth a rattling murmur to the land,
Whose sound allures the golden Morpheus
In silence of the night to visit us),350
My turret stands; and there, God knows, I play
With Venus' swans and sparrows all the day.
A[21] dwarfish beldam bears me company,