I busied myself to find a sure
       &nbsp       &nbsp Snug hermitage
That should preserve my Love secure
       &nbsp       &nbsp From the world's rage;
Where no unseemly saturnals,
       &nbsp Or strident traffic-roars,
Or hum of intervolved cabals
       &nbsp Should echo at her doors.

I laboured that the diurnal spin
       &nbsp       &nbsp Of vanities
Should not contrive to suck her in
       &nbsp       &nbsp By dark degrees,
And cunningly operate to blur
       &nbsp Sweet teachings I had begun;
And then I went full-heart to her
       &nbsp To expound the glad deeds done.


She looked at me, and said thereto
       &nbsp       &nbsp With a pitying smile,
"And THIS is what has busied you
       &nbsp       &nbsp So long a while?
O poor exhausted one, I see
       &nbsp You have worn you old and thin
For naught! Those moils you fear for me
       &nbsp I find most pleasure in!"