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