The Storm

Wild are the winds! the heavens are dark!
And he is out on a pathless deep;
Who will manage the weltering bark?
Who o'er him will the night watch keep?

God of the ocean, earth and air,
Over the high and perilous wave
Carry him safe, for thou art there—
Thine eye is watching; thine arm can save!

Author of light, the skies unveil,
That the shining hosts, from their lofty arch,
May again beam down on his wandering sail,
As in glory they move on their nightly march.

When he has closed his weary eyes,
Lulled by the billows that harmless roll,
Visions of bliss and beauty, rise
In flowery dreams to the waking soul!

But who shall dream, till the storm is past?
Who 'mid the elements' war shall sleep?
Spirit of mercy, hold him fast!
For he is out on an angry deep!