1 O Thou, the primal fount of life and peace,
Who shedd'st Thy breathing quiet all around,
In me command that pain and conflict cease,
And tune to music every jarring sound.

2 Make Thou in me, O God, through shame and pain,
A heart attuned to Thy celestial calm;
Let not the spirit's pangs be roused in vain,
But heal the wounded breast with soothing balm!

3 So, firm in steadfast hope, in thought secure,
In full accord with all Thy works of joy,
May I be nerved to labors high and pure,
And Thou Thy child to do Thy work employ.

4 In One who walked on earth, a man of woe,
Was holier peace than even this hour inspires;
From him to me let inward quiet flow,
And give the might my failing will requires.

5 So this great universe, -- so he, and Thou,
The central source and wondrous bound of things,
May fill my heart with rest as deep as now
To land and sea and air Thy presence brings.