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 tempest 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 silence at its peaceful door.
Far, far away, the roar of passion dieth,
And loving thoughts rise calm and peacefully,
And no rude storm, how fierce soe’er it flieth,
Disturbs the soul that dwells, O Lord, in Thee.
―Harriet Beecher Stowe.
“I URGE upon you ... ..a nearer communion with Christ and I a growing communion. There are curtains to be drawn by in Christ that we never saw, and new folding’s of love in Him. I despair that ever I shall win to the far end of that love, there are so many plies in it; therefore dig deep, and... labor, and take pains for Him, and set by so much time in the day for Him as you can: He will be won with labor. — Samuel Rutherford.