Secrets Of The Heart

Open, my heart, thy ruddy valves;
  It is thy master calls;
Let me go down, and, curious, trace
  Thy labyrinthine halls.
Open, O heart, and let me view
  The secrets of thy den;
Myself unto myself now show
  With introspective ken.
Expose thyself, thou covered nest
  Of passions, and be seen;
Stir up thy brood, that in unrest
  Are ever piping keen.
Ah! what a motley multitude,
  Magnanimous and mean!