"The cooling breath of evening woke
The waves of Galilee,
Till on the shore the waters broke
In softest melody.
"'Now launch the bark,' the Saviour cried;
The chosen Twelve stood by;
'And let us cross to yonder side,
Where the hills are steep and high.'
"Gently the bark o'er the waters creeps,
While the swelling sail they spread;
And the wearied Saviour gently sleeps,
With a pillow 'neath His head.
"On downy bed the world seeks rest;
Sleep flies the guilty eye;
But he who leans on the Father's breast,
May sleep when storms are nigh.
"But soon the lowering sky grew dark
O'er Bashan's rocky brow;
The storm rushed down upon the bark,
And waves dashed o'er the prow.
"The pale disciples trembling spake,
While yawned the watery grave;
'We perish, Master—Master, wake;
Carest Thou not to save?'
"Calmly He rose with sovereign will,
And hushed the storm to rest;
'Ye waves,' He whispered, 'Peace, be still!'
They calmed like a pardoned breast.
"So have I seen a fearful storm
O'er wakened sinner roll,
Till Jesus' voice and Jesus' form
Said, 'Peace, thou weary soul'
"And now He bends His gentle eye
His wondering followers o'er;
'Why raise this unbelieving cry?
I said, To yonder shore.'
"When first the Saviour wakened me,
And showed me why He died,
He pointed o'er life's narrow sea,
And said, 'To yonder side.'