The placitude of peace and holy thought,

The joyous lightness of the spirit's wings,

Sweeping with equal strokes the azure sky

Of Present, Past, and wide Futurity;

In the high tidemarks on the sands of life,

Where thought hath swept her purifying wave,

Bearing the treasures of the unsearched deep

To swell the riches of humanity.

[Pg 7]

That is a happiness apart from man

To aid, to sympathise with, or destroy;

In its calm solitude alike secure

From the broad adulation of the weak,

And the strained condescension of the great,

Both insults to the mighty soul within,

That is not prized but for its golden shrine.

Here there is that which makes the spirit free

And noble in the measure of its strength,

Untrammelled by conventionalities

That make the very light of heaven take worth

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