The Ga­li­lean fish­ers toil
All night, and no­thing take;
But Je­sus comes–a won­drous spoil
Is lift­ed from the lake.

Lord, when our la­bors are in vain,
And vain the help of men,
When fruit­less is our care and pain,
Come bless­èd Je­su, then!

The night is dark, the surg­es fill
The bark, the wild winds roar;
But Je­sus comes, and all is still—
The ship is at the shore.

O Lord, when storms around us howl,
And all is dark and drear,
In all the tem­pests of the soul,
O bless­èd Je­su, hear!

A frail one, thrice de­ny­ing Thee,
Saw mer­cy in Thine eyes;
The pe­ni­tent up­on the tree
Was borne to pa­ra­dise.

In hours of sin and deep dis­tress,
O show us, Lord, Thy face;
In pe­ni­ten­tial lone­li­ness,
O give us, Je­su, grace!

The faith­ful few re­tire in fear
Unto the up­per room;
But suddenly, with joyful cheer,
They see their Mas­ter come.

Lord, come to us, unloose our bands,
And bid our terrors cease,
Lift over us Thy blessèd hands,
Speak, holy Je­su, peace.

In days when faith will scarce be found,
And wolves be in the fold,
When sin and sorrow will abound,
And charity wax cold,

Then hear Thy saints, who to Thee pray
To bring them to their home;
Hear, when the Bride and Spi­rit say,
Come, blessèd Je­su, come!