Roast inside what thoughts you dare
Until your feast invades the air,
Concocted of ingredients
Which form their own just recompense.
An idle show, a sinful glance,
The phantom fear of some mischance,
All bake within the mind’s great fire
Then feed the world with love or ire.
Hatred, vanity, and grace
Within the mind will find their place
Among your deeds which mark the day.
Beware, and filter what may stay.