1 Fear was within the tossing bark,
When stormy winds grew loud;
And waves came rolling high and dark,
And the tall mast was bowed.

2 But the wind ceased, -- it ceased, -- a word
Passed through the gloomy sky;
The troubled billows knew their Lord,
And sank beneath his eye.

3 And slumber settled on the deep,
And silence on the blast;
They sank as flowers that fold to sleep
When sultry day is past.

4 O Thou that in its wildest hour
Didst rule the tempest's mood,
Send now thy Spirit forth in power
O'er our dark souls to brood!

5 Thou that didst bow the billows' pride,
Thy mandate to fulfil,
Speak, speak to passion's raging tide,
Speak, and say, "Peace, be still!"