Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Waves

Waves.

     The Psalmist cried,With the strong voice of the soul's agony,"Thy waves and billows have gone over me!"Rule Thou the raging of the angry sea:     Stay Thou the tide.

     Ah, this deep flood!"Thou hast afflicted me with all Thy wavesO'er my sad spirit how the tempest raves!But is not Thine the only hand that saves?—     Lord, Thou art good!

     Hast Thou not said—"When through the deepest waters thou must go,The swelling waters shall not overflow?"And every sinking struggle Thou dost know     Where I am led.

     And yet O King!I know Thou'rt mightier than the waters' roar:"Thy loving-kindness" help me to adore;And "Thy song in the night," for evermore     Help me to sing.

     Now, as of old,From the wild waves a child would cry to Thee:Lord, lull the lashings of grief's stormy sea,For sorrow's waves are overwhelming me;     The tempest hold!

     Now in the nightOf anguish and of weeping, let me hear,Above death's dismal dirges, in my earThy blessed voice, dispelling every fear     With heavenly light!

     Father! I know,Though darkness cloud my path in dreary night,The foaming breakers all are crowned with light;A shining track beams on above my sight:     Love made it so.

     Help me endure,And sink not in the surging waves that roll,Threat'ning to gulph me in their wild control;"Hope is a precious anchor to the soul,"     Steadfast and sure!

     Peace, "peace, be still!"Thou, who once held the waves within Thy palm,Saviour! speak to my heart that blessed calm;And teach my soul to chant a cheerful psalm,     Whate'er Thy will!

     Help me to raise,With humble resignation, such a song:,Some sinking one may listen, and be strong;And chastened hearts shall yield to Thee, life-long     Anthems of praise.

     Then, on the shoreOf the broad ocean of Thy love—the landWhere, for my coming, wait the angel band—Fast to "the Kock of Ages" let Thy hand     Hold me, for evermore!