Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our fev'rish ways!
Reclothe us in our rightful mind;
In purer lives Thy service find,
In deeper rev'rence, praise.

In simple trust like theirs who heard,
Beside the Syrian sea,
The gracious calling of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word,
Rise up and follow Thee.

O Sabbath rest by Galilee!
O calm of hills above,
Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee
The silence of eternity,
Interpreted by love!

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 thro' the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak though the earthquake, wind and fire,
O still small voice of calm!

John G. Whittier

So near, so very near to God, I cannot nearer be;
For in the person of His Son, I am as near as He.
So dear, so very dear to God, more dear I cannot be,
The love wherewith He loves the Son: such is His love to me.

C. Paget