If, on a Quiet Sea

If

on a qui­et sea

Toward Heav­en we calm­ly sail

With grate­ful hearts

O God

to Thee

We’ll own the fa­vor­ing gale

With grate­ful hearts

O God

to Thee

We’ll own the fa­vor­ing gale.

But should the surg­es rise

And rest de­lay to come

Blest be the tem­pest

kind the storm

Which drives us near­er home

Blest be the tem­pest

kind the storm

Which drives us near­er home.

Soon shall our doubts and fears

All yield to Thy con­trol;

Thy ten­der mer­cies shall il­lume

The mid­night of the soul

Thy ten­der mer­cies shall il­lume

The mid­night of the soul.

Teach us

in ev­ery state

To make Thy will our own;

And when the joys of sense de­part

To live by faith alone

And when the joys of sense de­part

To live by faith alone.