O peace divine and pure, In wildest storm secure, That feels the summer's glow 'Mid wintry ice and snow ; When may I rise to this dear prize, And fill my breast with inward rest ?
2. My life is tempest-tossed, With wayward currents crossed, Unhallowed cares deface The soul's most holy place ; How may I bind these cares, and find All passion spent in calm lyric ?
3. And though through storm and I sail the vasty seas [stress Of troubled thought----in vain I toil the shore to gain : For yet within I'd feel my sin, And still afar would shine Thy star.
4. Lord, only from Thy face Beams forth this mystic grace, And only in Thy love, Beneath, around, above, [whole, May my weak soul grow great and And peace divine be fully mine.