With daises gay, pastures a playful lamb.
A pebbly path, deep-worn, leads up the hill,
Winding among the trees, by wheel untouch'd.
On every side it is a shelter'd spot,
So high and suddenly the woody steeps
Arise. One only way, downward the stream,
Just o'er the hollow, 'tween the meeting boughs,
The distant wave is seen, with now and then
The glimpse of passing sail; though when the breeze
Cresteth the distant wave, this little nook