Fierce Was The Billow Wild
Oars labored heavily, foam glimmered white.
Trembled the mariners; peril was nigh:
Then said the God of God, Peace: it is I.”
Ridge of the mountain wave, lower thy crest;
Wail of the tempest wind, be thou at rest.
Sorrow can never be, darkness must fly,
Where saith the Light of light, Peace: it is I.”
Jesus, Deliverer, near to us be;
Soothe thou my voyaging over life’s sea;
Thou, when the storm of death roars, sweeping by,
Whisper, O Truth of truth, Peace: it is I.”