text:  A poet might imagine looking at a Welsh village by moonlight thus embosomed in pastoral mountains canopied with those silver mists whose very motion was peace and lulled by those soft solemn sounds more peace-breathing than even silence that _there_ at least care never came; there peace "if to be found in the world " would be surely found; and soon that one light moving--that prettier painted door stealthily opening--would prove that peace confined to the elements only