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I.

WHEN

WHEN winds are raging o'er the upper ocean,
And billows wild contend with angry roar,
'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion
That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore.

2.

Far, far beneath, the noise of tempest dieth,
And silver waves chime ever peacefully;
And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er he flieth,
Disturbs the sabbath of that deeper sea.

3.

So to the soul that knows thy love, O Purest,
There is a temple, peaceful evermore;
And all the babble of life's angry voices

Dies in hushed stillness at its sacred door.

4.

Far, far away, the noise of passion dieth,

And loving thoughts rise ever peacefully; And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er he flieth, Disturbs that deeper rest, O Lord, in thee.

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE, 1812

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I.

OPEN, Lord, my inward ear,

And bid my heart rejoice,

Bid my quiet spirit hear

Thy comfortable voice.

Never in the whirlwind found,

Or where earthquakes rock the place;

Still and silent is the sound,

The whisper of thy grace.

2.

Lord, my time is in thy hand,
My soul to thee convert;
Thou canst make me understand,
Though I am slow of heart.
Thine in whom I live and move,

Thine the work, the praise is thine;

Thou art wisdom, power and love,
And all thou art is mine.

3.

From the world of sin and noise
And hurry I withdraw;

For the small and inward voice
I wait with humble awe :
Silent am I now and still,

Dare not in thy presence move; To my waiting soul reveal

The secret of thy love.

CHARLES WESLEY, 1708-1788.

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