When the dark waves round us roll
And we look in vain for aid
Speak
Lord
to the trembling soul
It is I; be not afraid.
When we dimly trace Thy form
In mysterious clouds arrayed
Be the echo of the storm
It is I; be not afraid.
When our brightest hopes depart
When our fairest visions fade
Whisper to the fainting heart
It is I; be not afraid.
When we weep beside the bier
Where some well-loved form is laid
O may then the mourner hear
It is I; be not afraid.
When with wearing hopeless pain
Sinks the spirit
sore dismayed
Breathe Thou then the comfort-strain
It is I; be not afraid.
When we feel the end is near
Passing into death’s dark shade
May the voice be strong and clear
It is I; be not afraid.