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Discipline. 421
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! "
Amidst the roaring of the sea My soul still hangs her hopes on Thee ; Thy constant love, Thy faithful care Is all that saves me from despair.
Dangers of every shape and name Attend the followers of the Lamb, Who leave the world's deceitful shore, And leave it to return no more.
Though tempest-toss'd, and half a wreck, My Saviour through the floods I seek: Let neither winds nor stormy main Force back my shatter'd bark again !
William Cowfier. 1779.
CCCXCVI.
Why should I, in vain repining,
Mourn the clouds that cross my way ;
Since my Saviour's Presence shining Turns my darkness into day ?
Earthly honour, earthly treasure,
All the warmest passions win, And the silken wings of pleasure
Only waft us on to sin.
But, within the vale of sorrow,
All with tempests overblown, Purer light and joy we borrow
From the face of God alone. |
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