This is the essence of peace: Hands busy with Familiar things, The mundane silence Easing the heart's race - I have two days Stretching before me Long and full of nothing Except what I will: Reading, study; Being alone has a Singing quality, is tranquil. I can roam from Room to room take Pleasure from the fire's Hum and the crusting Frost white and Cold beyond my Window's strutted arm.next poem