830. C. M. Madan's Coll.
Thanksgiving for Deliverance in a Storm.
1Our little bark, on boisterous seas,
By cruel tempests tossed,
Without one cheerful beam of hope,
Expecting to be lost,--
2We to the Lord, in humble prayer,
Breathed out our sad distress;
Though feeble, yet with contrite hearts,
We begged return of peace.
3Then ceased the stormy winds to blow;
The surges ceased to roll;
And soon again a placid sea
Spoke comfort to the soul.
4O, may our grateful, trembling hearts
Their hallelujahs sing
To him who hath our lives preserved,--
Our Father and our King.