Mark you the floor? that square and speckled stone,
               Which looks so firm and strong,
                                             Is Patience:

And th’ other black and grave, wherewith each one
               Is checker’d all along,
                                             Humility:

The gentle rising, which on either hand
               Leads to the Choir above,
                                             Is Confidence:

But the sweet cement, which in one sure band
               Ties the whole frame, is Love
                                             And Charity.

           Hither sometimes Sin steals, and stains
           The marbles neat and curious veins:
But all is cleansed when the marble weeps.
           Sometimes Death, puffing at the door,
           Blows all the dust about the floor:
But while he thinks to spoil the room, he sweeps.
           Blest be the Architect, whose art
           Could build so strong in a weak heart.