IT is not in the heart of thought,
Nor in the breast of care;
That truth its dwelling-place has sought,
For all is sterile there:
Nor is it in the mind, where gay
Delusive visions throng,
That chastening truth can find a way
Its glittering dreams among:
Yet as within the desert far,
There are reflections given
Of light, so in the heart there are
Remembrances of Heaven.