‘I looked to Thee through all my fears,
The pain and grief to quell;—
Thy Hand hath wiped away my tears,
Jesus, Immanuel!
‘I heard a low, “a still small voice,”
Soft whisper, “It is well”;—
And knew the Saviour of my choice,
Jesus, Immanuel!
‘And still, o’er all life’s changing sea,
In calm or stormy swell,