Now teach me, maid composed,
To breathe some softened strain.
...
“Then lead, calm votaress, where some sheety lake
Cheers the lone heath, or some time-hallowed pile,
Or upland fallows gray
Reflect its last cool gleam.
“But when chill, blustering winds, or driving rain,
Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut,
That from the mountain’s side,