Deep calleth unto deep;—the waves do roar,
Thy waves and billows, rushing o’er my head!
God of all mercy! in this trying hour,
Have pity on the work thy hands have made;
May everlasting arms be underneath me spread.
XXVI.
O, speak once more, my husband! speak once more!
See! ’tis thy Mary leaning over thee!
Or, if to speak thy lips have lost their power,
Just press my hand to tell thou knowest me.