Which, when a child, I almost feared to touch,
Lest all its hidden terrors would explode;
And, lower yet, an Aqueduct, whose spring
Of clear, cold water, was a welcome treat
On a warm summer day; years bring great change,
Yet much I hope that spot is still unchanged.
One strong remembrance of that pleasant spot
Now presses on my mind, for, at its foot,
Upon the eastern side, stood a lone house,
Deserted, too, it looked, but ’twas not so;