" Low was our pretty cot, our tallest rose 

 Peeped at the chamber window ; we could hear, 

 At silent noon, and eve and early morn, 

 The sea's faint murmur. In the open air 

 Our myrtles blossomed, and across the porch 

 Thick jasmines twined. The little landscape round 

 Was green and woody and refreshed the eye : 

 It was a spot which you might aptly call 

 The Valley of Seclusion." 



