The Heavenly Mariner

1 Through tribulations deep the way to glory lies,
This stormy course I'd keep on the tempestuous seas;
By winds and waves I'm tost and driven,
Freighted with Grace, and bound for heaven.

2 Sometimes temptations blow a dreadful hurricane,
And high the waters flow, and o'er the side break in;
But still my little ship outbraves
The blustering winds and tow'ring waves.

3 When I in my distress my anchor, hope, can cost
Within the promises, it holds my vessel fast:
Safely she then at anchor rides,
Midst stormy blasts and swelling tides.

4 If a dead calm ensues, and heaven no breezes give,
The oar of prayer I'd use, and tug and toil, and strive;
Thro' storms and calms for many days,
I make but very little ways.

5 "But when a heavenly breeze springs up and fills my sail,
My vessel goes with ease before the pleasant gale,
And runs as much an hour or more,
As in a month or two before.

6 Hid by the clouds from sight, the sun doth not appear;
Nor can I in the night, behold the moon or stars.
Sometimes for days, or weeks or more,
I cannot see the sky or shore.

7 As at the time of noon my quadrant, faith, I take,
To view my Christ, my sun, if he the clouds should break;
I'm happy when his face I see,
I know then where abouts I be.

8 My Bible is my chart, by it the seas I know;
I cannot with it part — it rocks and sands doth show;
It is my chart and compass too,
Whose needle points forever true.

9 I'd keep aloof from pride, the rocks I'd shun with care,
I'd studiously avoid the whirlpool of despair;
Presumption's quicksands too I'd shun,
Near them I do not choose to run.

10 When through a strait I go, or near some Island drove,
The plummet faith I'd throw, and thus my safety prove;
My conscience is the line which I,
Fathom the depth of water by.

11 My vessel would be lost in spite of all my care,
But that the Holy Ghost himself vouchsafes to steer;
And thro' my voyage he always will
Be my dear faithful steersman still.

12 And e'er I reach the coast, a gulph I must pass through,
Which fatal proves to most, for all the passage, go;
But all death's waves can't me o'erwhelm,
If God himself is at the helm.

13 When through this, gulph I get, tho' rough it is but short,
The pilot angels meet to bring me into port,
And when I land on that blest shore,
I shall be safe forevermore.

Source: A Selection of Christian Hymns #354