Classic Poem

Four times, nay, five, I sallied from my cell,
And roamed afield to find the peace of mind
I sought in vain, and governance of thoughts
I could not bring into captivity.
To me, even to me, on that eighth day
It came: all craving ousted from my heart.
Mid many sore afflictions, I had wrought
With passionate endeavour and had won!
Craving was dead and the Lord's will was done.