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The winds were howling o'er the deep,
Each wave a watery hill,
The Saviour wakened from his sleep,
He spake, and all was still.
The madman in a tomb had made
His mansion of despair;
Woe to the traveller who strayed
With heedless footsteps there!
He met that glance so thrilling sweet.
He heard those accents mild,
And, melting at Messiah's feet,
Wept like a weaned child.
O madder than the raving man!
O deafer than the sea!
How long the time since Christ began
To call in vain on me?
He called me when my thoughtless prime
Was early ripe to ill;
I passed from folly on to crime,
And yet he called me still.
He called me in the time of dread
When death was full in view,
I trembled on my feverish bed,
And rose to sin anew.
Yet could I hear him once again,
As I have heard of old,
Methinks he should not call in vain
His wanderer to the fold.
O thou that every thought canst know,
And answer every prayer;
O give me sickness, want, or woe,
But snatch me from despair!
My struggling will by grace control,
Renew my broken vow!
That blessed light breaks on my soul?
O God! I hear thee now.
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marker 99
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1889 | # 697 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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ST. BERNARD
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1741
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 253 | D | | # 173 | D | | # 295 | D | | # 134 | D | | # 112 | D | | # 535 | E | | # 408 | Eb | | # 949 | Eb | | # 146 | Eb | | # 173 | Eb | | # 316 | Eb | | # 183 | Eb |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
