Words: , in Hallowed Hymns New and Old, by (Chicago, Illinois: The Biglow & Main Co., 1908), number 9. Music: . |
O sailor on a treacherous sea,
Tho’ rent thy every sail may be,
Tho’ all thy earthly hopes are past,
And thou art clinging to the mast.
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Hold fast a moment more,
Behold a light upon the shore;
Tho’ scarce a beam thine eye can see,
Thy Savior comes to rescue thee.
Hold fast, be strong and banish fear,
Look up, behold the harbor near;
A cry of joy from yonder strand,
Where loved ones wait to clasp thy hand.
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Tho’ surges roll, and waves run high,
The Gospel lifeboat still is nigh;
It cannot from its course be driv’n,
’Tis sure to reach the port of Heav’n.
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Oh, sailor! lift again thine eyes,
Behold with joy and glad surprise
A glorious morn, that dawns for thee,
Far, far beyond a stormy sea.
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Oh, land of rest from toil and care,
Who would not long to enter there,
Where every throb of pain shall cease,
And every sigh be hushed to peace!
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