Words: , in the At­lan­tic Month­ly, Ap­ril 1872.

The words are from a long nar­ra­tive poem, “The Brew­ing of So­ma.” It de­scribes Ve­dic priests go­ing in­to the for­est and drink­ing them­selves into a stu­por with a con­coct­ion called “soma.” They try to have a re­li­gious ex­per­i­ence and con­tact the spir­it world. It is af­ter set­ting that scene that Whit­tier draws his les­son: “Dear Lord, and Fa­ther of man­kind, for­give our fool­ish ways…” This hymn is as rel­e­vant to­day as when it was writ­ten. In a mod­ern con­text, it speaks to the drug cul­ture, and those look­ing for an “experience” to prove the re­al­i­ty of God.

Music: Rest (Mak­er), , 1887. Al­ter­nate tunes:

  • Hammersmith (Glad­stone), (1840-1892)
  • Repton, , 1888

Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our foolish ways;
Reclothe us in our rightful mind,
In purer lives Thy service find,
In deeper reverence, 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!

With that deep hush subduing all
Our words and works that drown
The tender whisper of Thy call,
As noiseless let Thy blessing fall
As fell Thy manna down.

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