Classic Poem

Thou, thou art rest
And peace of soul—
Thou woundst the breast
And makst it whole.

To thee I vow
'Mid joy or pain
My heart, where thou
Mayst aye remain.

Then enter free,
And bar the door
To all but thee
Forevermore.

All other woes
Thy charms shall lull;
Of sweet repose
This heart be full.

My worshipping eyes
Thy presence bright
Shall still suffice,
Their only light.