When Waves Of Trouble Round Me Swell

When waves of trouble round me swell,
My soul is not dismayed;
I hear a voice I know full well,
“‘Tis I; be not afraid.”

When black the threat’ning skies appear,
And storms my path invade,
Those accents tranquilize each fear,
“‘Tis I; be not afraid.”

There is a gulf that must be crossed;
Saviour, be near to aid!
Whisper, when my frail bark is tossed,
“‘Tis I; be not afraid.”