This were the sweetest spot below

This were the sweetest spot below For saint or anchorite to repose; So mild the morning breezes blow, So calm the summer evening’s close; Here, seated in mosaic grot, With scrip, and book, and rosary, Devotion, by the world forgot, Might charm the leaden hours away, Could man, to reason’s dictates true, His wayward passions e’er subdue!