Thrice happy is the man who keeps,
From other things apart,
A secret room, a holy place,
A chapel in his heart.
For there, when all the world outside
Grows dark upon his sight,
He can retire and find within
His chapel full of light.
And there, when jangling sounds of earth,
Discordant, fill his ear,
He can repair and, listening,
The eternal music hear.
And there, from praise and blame unjust,
Alone, he can confess,
In genuine humility,
His own unworthiness.
And there, when golden in his way,
Temptation spreads a snare,
Before he falters, he can flee
For refuge and for prayer.
Thrice happy is the man who keeps
From other things apart
This secret room, this holy place,
This chapel in his heart.
