The Sailor’s Hymn

The ocean hath no dan­ger

For the ones whose pray­ers are made

To the God who in a man­ger

Once a help­less babe was laid.

He was born to tri­bu­la­tion

And to ev­ery hu­man ill

Yet

the Lord of His cre­ation

All the wilde­st waves can still.

Fierce the tem­pest blows around us

Seething white the an­gry deep

Yet will He who finds the lost ones

Still His prec­ious trea­sure keep;

Neither wind nor wave can harm us

Even when our hope grows dim;

Never tem­pest need alarm us

If our peace we seek in Him.

Yea

when life it­self is wan­ing

And the waves shall o’er us sweep

Will the keen­ing wind’s com­plain­ing

Quiet lull us down to sleep;

For as soft as gen­tle slum­ber

Ev­en death it­self shall prove

To the faith­ful Christ doth num­ber

’Mong the wor­thy of His love.

Oh then

Ho­ly Je­sus

hear us

And pre­serve us free from harm;

Oh have pi­ty

Lord

and bear us

On Thine ev­er­last­ing arm.

And should storm or calm be­fall us

Or whate’er our lot may be

Then when all is ov­er

call us

Call us home

O Lord

to Thee.