From morn to midnight, all day through. I laugh and play as others do, I sin and chatter, just the same As others with a different name, And all year long upon the stage I dance and tumble and do rage So vehemently, I scarcely see The inner and eternal me. I have a temple I do not Visit, a heart I have forgot, A self that I have never met, A secret shrine -- and yet, and yet This sanctuary of my soul Unwitting I keep white and whole, Unlatched and lit, if Thou should'st care To enter or to tarry there. With parted lips and outstretched hands And listening ears Thy servant stands, Call Thou early, call Thou late, To Thy great service dedicate. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FOUR BROTHERS by CARL SANDBURG MATER IN EXTREMIS by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER DRAKE'S DRUM by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT MY BED IS A BOAT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON DUNCAN WEIR by ALEXANDER ANDERSON LINES TO CASTE by SAMUEL ALFRED BEADLE COUPLETS IN PRAISE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |