Classic Poem

Smooth every wave this heart within;
Let no dark tempest gather here;
Calm every ripple, till my sea
Be, like the polished silver, fair.

One word of old still'd raging wind,
And “Peace, be still,” subdued the wave;
Let that dear word again be heard,
And let the tempest cease to rave.

Jesu! thy word is mighty still,
Creation knows it; let his heart
Know it in all its grace and power,
Till every tumult thence depart.