This Place she loved, where, far as Eye could reach,
There seemed a boundless Length of peb’ly beach.
She loved the deep green hollow Lane, where grow
The Ferns that flourish o’er the Rill below;
In the small Course the limpid Waters run
And feed the Herbs that never feel the Sun.
She loved the still broad Lake, that in the Night
Of the full Moon reflected glorious light;
And every brilliant Star appeared to glow
With softened Lustre in the Lake below. 370