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. 



Far, far beneath, the noise of tempests dieth, 

 And silver waves chime ever peacefully. 



And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth. 

 Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea. 



So to the heart that knows thy love, O Purest ! 



There is a temple sacred evermore : 

 And all the babble of Life's angry voices 



Dies in hushed stillness at its peaceful door. 



Far, far away the roar of passion dieth. 



And loving thoughts rise kind and peacefully. 

 And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth. 

 Disturbs the soul that dwells, O Lord, in thee. 



Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 

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