THERE ’s a quiet place where I often go | |
| When the sun is in the west, | |
| And the evening breezes, as they blow | |
| O’er the trees above and the lake below, | |
| Seem sighing themselves to rest; | 5 |
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| Where under the bank beneath the feet | |
| There lies a hidden well; | |
| Where the hanging boughs the waters meet, | |
| And the moor-hen finds a safe retreat, | |
| And the white swan loves to dwell. | 10 |
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| For there have I heard the cuckoo’s call, | |
| And the lay of the nightingale, | |
| The cooing of doves in the tree-tops tall, | |
| And the distant sound of the waterfall | |
| Come creeping up the vale. | 15 |
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| And in the far-off haze I have seen | |
| The slopes of the circling hill, | |
| And, the arching boughs of the trees between, | |
| The broad expanse of the meadows green | |
| Lie peacefully and still. | 20 |
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| I have seen the water smooth as glass, | |
| Or the ripples o’er it fleet, | |
| When the winds that move it as they pass | |
| Bear the scent of dew-besprinkled grass | |
| And the odor of flowers sweet. | 25 |
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| I have watched the shades of twilight glide | |
| Over the peaceful scene, | |
| Till the stars stole forth on the heavens wide, | |
| And the moonbeams fell on the tranquil tide | |
| In floods of silver sheen. | 30 |
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| O, there is no vale that ever I knew | |
| That has such charms for me, | |
| Where the earth assumes a brighter hue, | |
| And the sky seems tinged with a deeper blue, | |
| And the flowers more fair to see. | 35 |
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| And still contented shall be my lot, | |
| Whether I laugh or weep, | |
| If, the busy cares of the world forgot, | |
| I may visit that sweet, secluded spot, | |
| Where the woods and waters sleep. | 40 |
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