The billows swell, the winds are high;

Clouds overcast my wintry sky;

Out of the depths to thee I call;

My fears are great, my strength is small.

2 O Lord, the pilot’s part perform,

And guide and guard me through the storm;

Defend me from each threatening ill:

Control the waves; say, “Peace! be still.”

3 Amid the roaring of the sea,

My soul still hangs her hope on thee;

Thy constant love, thy faithful care,

Is all that saves me from despair.

4 Though tempest-tossed and half a wreck,

My Saviour through the floods I seek:

Let neither winds nor stormy main

Force back my shattered bark again.