Here might the sacred sisters dwell
By pebbly brook, or gushing well:
O let me listen, as they sing,
In some close vale beside a spring,
Whose stream the intruding alder chides,
Where the wild-bee her treasure hides!—
Or sit in high imbowering shade
With Contemplation, heav’n-ey’d maid,
Where the scant sun through branches thin
Chequers the dark green floor within;