Explore "Our Lady of the Snows" by Robert Louis Stevenson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
OUT of the sun, out of the blast, / Out of the world, alone I passed / Across the moor and through the wood / To where the monastery stood.
There neither lute nor breathing fife, / Nor rumour of the world of life, / Nor confidences low and dear, / Shall strike the meditative ear.