Thy heart a fountain that flows with joy
Compare with that where a river doth run
As heav’n floats upon such current employ
That dove pure in vestment white hath begun
Within tepid mist, storm did boldly break,
And petty wrongs thy tender wounds assailed;
For beauty lost doth sourly cross thy heart make
Where to thy woes straying hope hath impail’d
Let peacemaker break temptation’s spell
Where new hearts lift to the music of grace
Soaring with the eagle that knows full well
That true beauty ne’r left this hallowed place
Gentle thou art that thou no joy erase
And mighty is the soul love’s wings embrace.