Classic Poem

Dear Lord, who, at thy blessed will,
Could'st make the raging wind be still,
And smooth the tossing of the sea
Oh cause our stormy griefs to flee,
Our wild tumultuous thoughts allay
And tempest passions send away:
Conduct us here to perfect peace,
Where all our earthly troubles cease
And lastly, while to Thee we cling,
Our souls to that blest haven bring,
Above the sphere of Care and Woe,
Where earthly blasts can never blow,
With Thee to dwell, supremely blest,
Anchored on everlasting Rest.