​As earth’s pageant passes by,    
Let reflection turn thine eye    
Inward, and observe thy breast;    
There alone dwells solid rest.    
 
That’s a close immurèd tower
Which can mock all hostile power:    
To thyself a tenant be,    
And inhabit safe and free.    
 
Say not that this house is small,    
Girt up in a narrow wall;
In a cleanly sober mind    
Heaven itself full room doth find.    
 
Th’ infinite Creator can    
Dwell in it, and may not man?    
Here content make thy abode
With thyself and with thy God.
​
(Joseph Beaumont (1616–1699)