XXVII.

'T is true, I might have chosen Piccadilly,[663]A place where peccadillos are unknown;

But I have motives, whether wise or silly,

For letting that pure sanctuary alone.

Therefore I name not square, street, place, until I

Find one where nothing naughty can be shown,

A vestal shrine of Innocence of Heart:

Such are—but I have lost the London Chart.

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