The Sorrow of the Sea.
Concert. I stood on the shore of the beautiful sea,
And the billows were rolling wild and free;
Onward they came with unfailing force,
Then backward turned in their restless course.
Ever and ever they rose and fell,
With heaving and surging and mighty swell:
Ever and ever sounded their roar,
Foaming and dashing against the shore.
Solo. Oh, when shall the ocean’s troubled breast
Calmly and quietly sink to rest?
When shall the waves’ wild murmurs cease
And the mighty waters be hushed in peace?
Concert. It cannot be quiet; it cannot rest.
There must be heaving on ocean’s breast,
The tide must ebb and the tide must flow
While the changing seasons come and go.
Oh, strangely glorious, beautiful sea,
Sounding forever mysteriously,
Why are thy billows still rolling on
With that wild and sad and musical tone?
Why is there never repose for thee
O mighty, murmuring, sounding sea?
Solo. Then the ocean’s voice I seemed to hear,
Mournfully, solemnly sounding near,
Telling of loved ones buried there,
Of the dying shriek and the dying prayer;
Telling of hearts still watching in vain
For those who shall never come back again;
Oh, no! the ocean can never rest
With such secrets hidden within its breast.
But a day shall come, a blessed day,
When earthly sorrow shall pass away,
When the hour of anguish shall turn to peace,
And even the roar of the waves shall cease.
Concert. But, oh! thou glorious, beautiful sea,
There is health, and joy, and delight in thee.
Solemnly, sweetly, I hear thy voice
Bidding me weep and yet rejoice:
Weep for the loved ones buried beneath,
Rejoice in Him who has conquered death;
Weep for the sorrowing, tempest-tossed,
Rejoice in Him who has saved the lost;
Weep for the sin and sorrow of strife,
Rejoice in the hope of eternal life!