The Maiden, at those welcome words, imprest

A passionate kiss upon her father’s cheek:

They look’d around them, then, as if to seek

Where they should turn, North, South, or East or West,

Wherever to their vagrant feet seem’d best.

But, turning from the view her mournful eyes,

Oh, whither should we wander, Kailyal cries,

Or wherefore seek in vain a place of rest?

Have we not here the Earth beneath our tread,

Heaven overhead,

A brook that winds through this sequester’d glade,

And yonder woods, to yield us fruit and shade!

The little all our wants require is nigh;

Hope we have none, . . why travel on in fear?

We cannot fly from Fate, and Fate will find us here.