Save when to searching winds they answer make,
Then closer scan thee, in thy guarded cell,
No rippling keel hath vexed thee from thy birth,
No fisher’s net thy cloistered musing broke,
Nor aught that holds communion with the earth
Thy sky-wrapt spirit to emotion woke,
For thou from man wert fain to hide away,
Nursing a vestal purity of thought,
And only when stern Winter’s tyrant sway
A seal of terror on thy heart had wrought,