This page needs to be proofread.

With that deep hush subduing all
Our words and works that drown
The tender whisper of thy call,
As noiseless let thy blessing fall
As fell thy manna down.

Drop thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease:
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of thy peace.

Breathe through the pulses of desire
Thy coolness and thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, its heats expire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still small voice of calm!

231