Trust and treachery, wisdom, folly, 
Madness, mirth and melancholy, 
Love and hatred, thrift and pillage, 
All are housed in every village. 
And in such a world?s mixed being, 
Where may peace, from ruin fleeing, 
Find fit shelter and inherit 
All the calm of her own merit? 

In a bark of gentle motion 
Sailing on the summer ocean? 
There worst war the tempest wages, 
And the hungry whirlpool rages. 

In some lonely new-world bower 
Hidden like a forest flower? 
There, too, there, to fray the stranger 
Stalks the wild-eyed savage, danger! 

In some Alpine cot, by fountains 
Flowing from snow-shining mountains? 
There the avalanches thunder, 
Crushing all that lieth under! 

In some hermit-tent, pitched lowly 
Mid the tombs of prophets holy? 
There to harry and annoy her 
Roams the infidel destroyer. 

In palatial chambers gilded, 
Guarded round with towers high-builded? 
Change may enter these to-morrow, 
And with change may enter sorrow. 

Find, O peace, thy home of beauty 
In the steadfast heart of duty, 
Dwelling ever there, and seeing 
God through every phase of being