Text: | The Sailor |
1 Tossed upon life’s raging billow,
Sweet it is, O Lord, to know
Thou hast press’d a sailor’s pillow,
And canst feel a sailor’s woe:
2 Never slumbering, never sleeping,
Tho’ the night be dark and drear,
Thou the faithful watch art keeping,
All, all's well! Thy constant cheer.
3 And though loud the wind is howling,
Fierce though flash the lightnings red,
Darkly though the storm clouds scowling,
O’er the sailor’s anxious head,--
4 Thou canst calm the raging ocean,
All its noise and tumult still,
Hush the tempest's wild commotion,
At the bidding of Thy will.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Tossed upon life's raging billow |
Title: | The Sailor |
Meter: | 8s & 7s. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1867 |
Topic: | Man a Saint: In Bodily and Spiritual Trouble |