| WHAT dost thou here, thou shining, sinless thing, |
| With many colored hues and shapely wing? |
| Why quit the open field and summer air |
| To flutter here? Thou hast no need of prayer. |
| ’Tis meet that we, who this great structure built, |
| Should come to be redeemed and washed from guilt, |
| For we this gilded edifice within |
| Are come, with erring hearts and stains of sin. |
| But thou art free from guilt as God on high; |
| Go, seek the blooming waste and open sky, |
| And leave us here our secret woes to bear, |
| Confessionals and agonies of prayer. |
