"A green and silent spot amid the hills, A small and silent dell! O'er stiller place No singing skylark ever poised herself. The hills are heathy, save that swelling slope, Which hath a gay and gorgeous covering on, All golden with the never bloomless furz, Which now blooms most profusely; but the dell, Bathed by the mist, is fresh and delicate As vernal cornfield, or the unripe flax, When, through its half-transparent stalks at eve, The level sunshine glimmers with green light. Oh! 'tis a quiet, spirit-healing nook! Which all, methinks, would love; but chiefly he, The humble man, who in his youthful years Knew just so much of folly as had made His early manhood more securely wise! Here he might lie on fern or withered heath, While from the singing lark, that sings unseen The minstrelsy that solitude loves best, And from the sun, and from the breezy air, Sweet influences trembled o'er his frame, And he with many feelings, many thoughts, Made up a meditative joy, and found Religious musings in the forms of nature! And so, his senses gradually wrapped In a half-sleep, he dreams of better worlds, And dreaming hears thee still, O singing lark, That singest like an angel in the clouds!" But the views from the Quantock hills are as charming as the hills themselves. From above Allfoxden you look down directly on the Bristol Channel, the little island of Steepholms lying in the liquid foreground, and the Welsh hills stretching along in the back. On your right you see the whole level but rich country stretching away to Bridgewater, and on toward Bristol.