Words: , Hymns and Sac­red Po­ems, 1739.

Music: Lest We Forget, (1868-1926). Alternate tune:

  • Melita, , 1861

If you know when the mu­sic was writ­ten, or where to get a pho­to of George Blanch­ard

Just be­fore the Maria mail-boat struck on the reefs near An­ti­gua in Feb­ru­a­ry, 1826, little Willy White, one of the miss­ion­ary child­ren on board, gave out, with an em­pha­sis and ser­i­ous­ness which were much no­ticed, the verse ‘Though waves and storms go o’er my head,’ and talked to his small com­pan­ions about Jo­nah and other Bi­ble sto­ries. Mrs. Jones, wife of one of the mis­sion­ar­ies, was much com­fort­ed by the verse, ‘Je­sus protects; my fears, be gone!’ and sang ‘When pass­ing through the wa­tery deep.’ The mail-boat broke up, and all the party were drowned—five mis­sion­ar­ies, two mis­sion­ar­ies’ wives, four child­ren, and two nurs­es—save Mrs. Jones, who was res­cued on Fri­day morn­ing, af­ter be­ing in the wa­ter from Tuesday morn­ing. In 1832 she mar­ried Mr. Hincks­man, of Preston. On her death-bed in Ap­ril, 1859, when she could scarce­ly speak, she asked that the hymn which had com­fort­ed her in that time of ship­wreck might be sung, and found that it was still full of strong con­so­la­tion.

Peace, doubting heart! my God’s I am;
Who formed me man, forbids my fear;
The Lord hath called me by my name;
The Lord protects, for ever near;
His blood for me did once atone,
And still He loves and guards His own.

When passing through the watery deep,
I ask in faith He promised aid,
The waves all awful distance keep,
And shrink from my devoted head;
Fearless their violence I dare;
They cannot harm, for God is there!

To Him mine eye of faith I turn,
And through the fire pursue my way;
The fire forgets its power to burn,
The lambent flames around me play;
I own His power, accept the sign,
And shout to prove the Savior mine.

Still nigh me, O my Savior, stand!
And guard in fierce temptation’s hour;
Hide in the hollow of Thy hand,
Show forth in me Thy saving power,
Still be Thy arms my sure defense,
Nor earth nor hell shall pluck me thence.

Since Thou hast bid me come to Thee,
Good as Thou art, and strong to save
I’ll walk o’er life’s tempestuous sea,
Upborne by the unyielding wave,
Dauntless, though rocks of pride be near,
And yawning whirlpools of despair.

When darkness intercepts the skies,
And sorrow’s waves around me roll,
When high the storms of passion rise,
And half o’erwhelm my sinking soul,
My soul a sudden calm shall feel,
And hear a whisper, “Peace; be still!”

Though in affliction’s furnace tried,
Unhurt on snares and death I’ll tread;
Though sin assail, and hell, thrown wide,
Pour all its flames upon my head,
Like Moses’ bush, I’ll mount the higher,
And flourish unconsumed in fire.