Musa Burschicosa :: :: University of Virginia Library

On a little grassy knoll,
Beneath the huge Ben More,
Where the loch's clear amber waters
Lave the white and pebbly shore,
I have built a little dwelling,
Without or pomp or state,
In smallness quite excelling;
But oh! the peace is great.

From the hot and dusty tumult
Of the men that rule the land,
From the pageant of the Park,
And the rattle of the Strand;
From the weariness and worry
Of contention and debate,
I am sheltered, I am hidden;
And my peace is very great.

From the knocking and the ringing
Of the beggar and the bore,
When every man is bringing
Every business to my door;

From saying Yes, and saying No,
To seas of endless prate,
I am sheltered, I am hidde
And my peace is very great.

From the doctrine and the dogma
Of each lofty-fancied fool,
Who would take the great Creator
(If Creator be) to school;
From the thousand maggots swarming
In each eager-witted pate,
I am sheltered, I am hidden;
And my peace is very great.

From the carping and the grumbling
Of the spiteful and the small,
Who, when mighty things are tumbling,
Love to see the mighty fall;
From the lust of hot reforming
In the Church and in the State,
I am sheltered, I am hidden;
And my peace is very great.

With a wife to share my pillow,
And a man to row my boat,
And a rod to lash the billow
And a friend to glass my thought;

With no great ambition swelling,
And no questions asked of Fate,
Pride leaves the little dwelling;
But my peace is very great.

Then fare-thee-well, the City's din,
The tumult and the throng,
For a moment and a moment
To myself I will belong;
In my lonely mountain dwelling
Disrobed of empty state,
In smallness quite excelling,
And in peace how very great!