There is no lord within my heart, br Left silent as an empty shrine br Where rose and myrtle intertwine, br Within a place apart. br br No god is there of carven stone br To watch with still approving eyes br My thoughts like steady incense rise; br I dream and weep alone. br br But if I keep my altar fair, br Some morning I shall lift my head br From roses deftly garlanded br To find the god is there.