Classic Poem

Mark you the floor? that square and speckled stone,
Which looks so firm and strong,
Is Patience:

And th' other black and grave, wherewith each one
Is checkered all along,
Humilitiy:

The gentle rising, which on either hand
Leads to the Choir above,
Is Confidence:

But the sweet cement, which in one sure band
Ties the whole frame, is Love
And Charitiy.

Hither sometimes Sin steals, and stains
The marble's neat and curious veins:
But all is cleansed when the marble weeps.
Sometimes Death, puffing at the door,
Blows all the dust about the floor:
But while he thinks to spoil the room, he sweeps.
Blessed be the Architect, whose art
Could build so strong in a weak heart.