1 After the storms have beat upon our pathway;
After the winds have hushed their awful blast;
Our little bark, tho’ tossed upon the billows,
Will safely reach the harbor-home at last.
O troubled heart, by faith look o’er the water,
Hope clears the mists, to yonder city’s dome,
Where in that land, no storm-clouds ever enter,
After life’s journey comes our home, sweet home.
2 How blest the thought that he, who is our Pilot
Will safely guide across life’s rolling sea,
And in the storm, with darkness all around us,
He sweetly speaks, “I’ll ever be with thee.” [Refrain]
3 ‘Twill not be long, the voyage will have ended,
And safe at home, upon that golden shore;
With those we love, throughout the countless ages
Will praise his name, who brought us safely o’er. [Refrain]