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Poem	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.
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