Classic Poem

Thy way is in the deep, O Lord!
E'en there we'll go with thee:
We'll meet the tempest at thy word,
And walk upon the sea.

Poor tremblers at his rougher wind,
Why do we doubt him so?
Who gives the storm a path will find
The way our feet shall go.

A moment may his hand seem lost, —
Drear moment of delay;
We cry, " Lord, help the tempest-tost!"
And safe we're borne away.

O happy soul of faith divine,
Thy victory how sure!
The love that kindles joy is thine,
The patience to endure.