The speaker, a woman about to become a nun, voices a quiet, heartfelt wish for a life removed from turmoil. She longs for a landscape where springs never dry up, no harsh hail falls, and just a few lilies bloom — an image of gentle, unfading simplicity. This isn’t a place of grand beauty, but of enduring peace.
Her desire then turns more explicitly toward shelter: she wants to be where storms cannot reach, where the sea’s swell is hushed inside silent havens, entirely out of the ocean’s restless swing. The sea here suggests the emotional and worldly upheavals she is leaving behind. The poem creates a mood of calm, almost breath-held stillness, as if the speaker is half-whispering a prayer. There’s no struggle in her voice — only a serene, certain yearning for a life anchored and safe. The title’s pun on “heaven” and “haven” makes clear that the convent is both a physical refuge and a spiritual destination.