Eternal Father! strong to save,

Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,

Who biddest the mighty ocean deep

Its own appointed limits keep;

O hear us when we cry to thee

For those in peril on the sea!

2 O Christ! whose voice the waters heard,

And hushed their raging at thy word,

Who walkÉdst on the foaming deep,

And calm amidst its rage didst sleep;

3 O God of boundless love and power!

Our brethren shield in danger’s hour;

From rock and tempest, fire and foe,

Protect them wheresoe’er they go,

Thus evermore shall rise to thee

Glad hymns of praise from land and sea.

Glory to thee, whose powerful word

Bids the tempestuous wind arise;

Glory to thee, the sovereign Lord

Of air and earth, and seas and skies.

2 Let air and earth and skies obey,

And seas thy awful will perform;

From them we learn to own thy sway,

And shout to meet the gathering storm.

3 What though the floods lift up their voice,

Thou hearest, Lord, our silent cry;

They can not damp thy children’s joys,

Or shake the soul, while God is nigh.

4 Roar on, ye waves! our souls defy

Your roaring to disturb their rest;

In vain to impair the calm ye try—

The calm in a believer’s breast.

The floods, O Lord, lift up their voice,

The mighty floods lift up their roar;

The floods in tumult loud rejoice,

And climb in foam the sounding shore.

2 But mightier than the mighty sea,

The Lord of glory reigns on high;

Far o’er its waves we look to thee,

And see their fury break and die.

Rocked in the cradle of the deep,

I lay me down in peace to sleep;

Secure I rest upon the wave,

For thou, O Lord! hast power to save.

2 I know thou wilt not slight my call!

For thou dost mark the sparrow’s fall!

And calm and peaceful is my sleep,

Rocked in the cradle of the deep.

3 And such the trust that still were mine,

Though stormy winds swept o’er the brine,

Or though the tempest’s fiery breath

Roused me from sleep to wreck and death!

4 In ocean caves still safe with thee,

The germs of immortality;

And calm and peaceful is my sleep,

Rocked in the cradle of the deep.

How are thy servants blest, O Lord!

How sure is their defense!

Eternal Wisdom is their guide,

Their help, Omnipotence.

2 In foreign realms, and lands remote,

Supported by thy care,

Through burning climes they pass unhurt,

And breathe in tainted air.

3 When by the dreadful tempest borne

High on the broken wave,

They know thou art not slow to hear,

Nor impotent to save.

Thy way is in the deep, O Lord!

E’en there we’ll go with thee;

We’ll meet the tempest at thy word,

And walk upon the sea!

2 Poor tremblers at his rougher wind,

Why do we doubt him so?

Who gives the storm a path, will find

The way our feet shall go.

3 A moment may his hand be lost,

Drear moment of delay!—

We cry, “Lord, help the tempest tost,”

And safe we’re borne away.

Star of peace, to wanderers weary,

Bright the beams that smile on me;

Cheer the pilot’s vision dreary,

Far, far at sea.

2 Star of Hope, gleam on the billow,

Bless the soul that sighs for thee;

Bless the sailor’s lonely pillow,

Far, far at sea.

3 Star of faith, when winds are mocking

All his toil, he flies to thee;

Save him, on the billows rocking,

Far, far at sea.

Lord! whom winds and seas obey,

Guide us through the watery way;

In the hollow of thy hand

Hide, and bring us safe to land.

2 Jesus! let our faithful mind

Rest, on thee alone reclined;

Every anxious thought repress;

Keep our souls in perfect peace.

3 Keep the souls whom now we leave;

Bid them to each other cleave:

Bid them walk on life’s rough sea;

Bid them come by faith to thee.

4 Save, till all these tempests end,

All who on thy love depend;

Waft our happy spirits o’er,

Land us on the heavenly shore.

When through the torn sail the wild tempest is streaming,

When o’er the dark wave the red lightning is gleaming,

Nor hope lends a ray, the poor seaman to cherish,

We fly to our Maker—Save, Lord, or we perish!

2 O Jesus, once rocked on the breast of the billow,

Aroused by the shriek of despair from thy pillow,

Now seated in glory, the mariner cherish,

Who cries, in his anguish—Save, Lord, or we perish!

3 And, O, when the whirlwind of passion is raging,

When sin in our hearts its sad warfare is waging,

Then send down thy grace, thy redeemÉd to cherish;

Rebuke the destroyer—Save, Lord, or we perish!