When I put out to sea,
Into eter­ni­ty,
My pi­lot will be there;
His hand will hold the helm—
Lest storms should ov­er­whelm—
Till I shall reach the realm
Where lies my ha­ven fair.

Tho’ dark­ness shroud the deep,
And bil­lows toss and leap,
I shall not be afraid;
My pi­lot knows the way
Across the sea’s high­way,
Thro’ night, to that glad day
Where light will ne­ver fade.

And if, per­chance, dread fear
Shall draw a mo­ment near,
As storms around me roar;
Above the night wind’s sigh,
I’ll hear my pi­lot cry:
Fear not, for I am nigh,
And I shall fear no more.

The dark­ness ov­er­past,
I’ll reach my port at last,
And rest in ha­ven calm;
Brought safe­ly, sweet­ly through,
I’ll thank my pi­lot true,
And oft my thanks re­new,
In praise and tri­umph psalm.

And so I wait on shore,
My gaze fixed on be­fore,
Across the dark’n­ing wave,
My pi­lot of the sea
Will one day call for me—
Then I shall rea­dy be,
And trust His pow­er to save!