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Now weigh the anchor, hoist the sail,
Launch out upon the pathless deep,
Resolved, however veers the gale,
The destined port in mind to keep;
Through all the dangers of the way,
Deliver us, good Lord, we pray.

When tempests mingle sea and sky,
And winds like lions rage and rend,
Ship’s o’er the mountain-waters fly,
Or down unfathomed depths descend,
Though skill avail not, strength decay,
Deliver us, good lord, we pray.

If lightnings from embattled clouds,
Strike, or a spark in secret nurst,
From stem to stern, o’er masts and shrouds,
Like doomsday’s conflagration burst,
Amid the fire thy power display,
Deliver us, good Lord, we pray.

Through yielding planks, should ocean urge
Rude entrance, flooding all below,
Speak, ere we founder in the surge —
“Thus far, nor farther shall we go;
Here, ye proud waves, your fury stay:”
Deliver us, good Lord, we pray.

With cordage snapt, and canvas riven,
Through straits thick-strown with rock and shoal,
Along some gulph-stream darkly driven,
Fast wedged ‘midst icebergs at the pole,
or on low breakers cast away,
Deliver us, good Lord, we pray.

Save, or we perish;—calms or storms,
By day, by night, at home, afar,
Death walks the waves in all his forms,
And shoots his darts from every star;
Want, pain, and woe man’s path waylay,
Deliver us, good Lord, we pray.

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