  The heart in sacred peace may dwell, Apart from convent gloom— To matins and to vespers rise, 'Mid nature's song and bloom: Or in the busy haunts of life, In gay or restless scene, In sanctuary calm abide, As vestal saint serene. It is the pure and holy thought, The spotless veil within, That screens pollution from the breast, And hides a world of sin. J. D. |
|
