If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me. Psalm 139:9–10
Words: Henry F. Lyte, Poems Chiefly Religious 1833 & 1845.
Music: Wetherby Samuel S. Wesley, 1872 (🔊 pdf nwc).
Above me hangs the silent sky;
Around me rolls the sea;
The crew is at all at rest, and I
Am, Lord, alone with Thee.
Go where I may, from all remote,
Thou, Lord, art ever near:
No secret thought, but Thou canst note;
No word, but Thou canst hear.
When all around are sunk to sleep,
Thy presence here I find;
To me Thou walkest o’er the deep,
Or speakest in the wind.
In winds, and waves, and starry sky;
I see Thee present here;
And, looking at myself, I cry,
Can I still be Thy care?
I think of days and dangers past,
When I have found Thee nigh;
And wonder how Thy love can last
To one so vile as I.
I think of terrors near at hand,
Of judgment yet to come;
When I before Thy face must stand
And hear my final doom.
The sense of all I’ve been and done
Would fill me with despair;
But to my Savior’s cross I run,
And find a refuge there.
I know He has the power to aid,
I know He has the will:
And He who once for sinners bled,
Can rescue sinners still.
Lord, arm my soul with faith in Thee,
And fill my heart with love,
My path from sin and danger free,
And guide me safe above.
And while the waves around me beat,
Lord, often thus descend,
And grant me here communion sweet
With Thee, the sinner’s friend.