Needed no guide in wildwood ways,
But trod the rough and tangled maze
By natural instinct taught and led?
Upon the wind-blown mountain-spur
Chosen and loved as best by her,
Watched over by near sun and star,
Encompassed by wide skies, she sleeps,
And not one jarring murmur creeps
Up from the plain her rest to mar.
Sleep on, dear heart! we would not break