'Tis true my garments threadbare are,
 And sorry poor I seem;
But inly I am richer far
 Than any poet's dream.
For I've a hidden life no one
 Can ever hope to see;
A sacred sanctuary none
 May share with me.
 
Aloof I stand from out the strife,
 Within my heart a song;
By virtue of my inner life
 I to myself belong.
Against man-ruling I rebel,
 Yet do not fear defeat,
For to my secret citadel
 I may retreat.

Oh you who have an inner life
 Beyond this dismal day
With wars and evil rumours rife,
 Go blessedly your way.
Your refuge hold inviolate;
 Unto yourself be true,
And shield serene from sordid fate
 The Real You.