Rain-storms that beat upon the house in vain,
Fierce winds that strive, but fail to enter in,
Are like those dreams which time and time again
The door of thought assail—that thought I fain
Would keep so pure and spotless, free from sin.
They are not mine! They come not from within!
If I build truly, and the door guard well,
Keeping the entrance closed to all that harms,
Serene and calm within Love's citadel
I shall abide. No evil there can dwell.
Safe shall I be from terrors and alarms;
Held closely in the everlasting arms.
