Though swelling waves oft beat him back,
And tempests make him half a wreck,
And passions strong, with dangerous tack,
Retard his course,
Yet Christ the pilot all will check,
And quell their force.
So talk we as we thoughtful stray
Along the coast, where dashing spray
With rising mist o’erhangs the day,
And wets the shore,
And thick the vivid flashes play
And thunders roar!
Whilst passing o’er this giddy stage,
A pious and a learned sage
Resolved eternal war to wage
With passions fell;
How oft you view with holy rage
These imps of hell!
See! with what madd’ning force they sway
The human breast and lead astray,
Down the steep, broad, destructive way,
The giddy throng;
Till grisly death sweeps all away
The fiends among!
As when the mad tornado flies,
And sounding mingles earth and skies,
And wild confusion ’fore the eyes
In terrors dressed.
So passions fell in whirlwinds rise,
And rend the breast!
But whilst this direful tempest raves,
And many barks are dashed to staves,
I see you tower above the waves
Like some tall rock,
Whose base the harmless ocean laves
Without a shock!
’Tis He who calmed the raging sea,
Who bids the waves be still in thee,
And keeps you from all dangers free
Amidst the wreck;
All sin, and care, and dangers flee
E’en at His beck.
And on that great and dreadful day
When heaven and earth shall pass away,
Each soul to bliss He will convey,
That knows His name;
And give the giddy world a prey
To quenchless flame.
So oft when Sabbaths bade us rest,
And heavenly zeal inspired your breast,
Obedient to the high behest
You preached to all,
Whilst God your zealous efforts blessed,
And owned your call.
The very thought my soul inspires,
And kindles bright her latent fires;
My Muse feels heart-warm fond desires,
And spreads her wing,
And aims to join th’ angelic choirs,
And sweetly sing.