It is not in the solitary place,1
Where breezes blow across untrodden sward2
And shy wild-birds frequent the open space,3
That best is heard the message of the Lord.4
Nor yet upon the weed-strewn, rocky shore,5
Where waves toss up their flying clouds of spray,6
And high above the mighty ocean’s roar7
Shrills out the whistling wind unceasingly.8
The dreamful quiet lulls the mind to rest,9
The winds and waves chase other thoughts away,10
And Inspiration’s voice is heard the best11
When sounding through the duty of the day ;12
For well-accustomed duties leave the mind13
At leisure, calm, receptive, unconfined.14