O Zion, afflicted with wave upon wave,
Whom no mortal power can succor or save;
With sickness surrounded, by terrors dismayed,
In toiling and watching, thy strength is decayed.
Thy enemies are many, thy o’erwhelm,
But thy blessèd pilot, He sits at the helm;
His wisdom conducts thee, His power thee defends,
In safety and quiet thy warfare He ends.
O fearful, O faithless, in mercy He cries,
“My kindness thou doubts of, My promise denies;
Yet still I am with thee, My promise shall stand,
Through tossing and tempest, I’ll bring thee to land.
“Forget thee, I will not, I cannot, thy name
Engraved on My heart doth for ever remain;
The palms of My hands, whilst I look on I see
The wounds I received when I suffered for thee.
“I feel at My heart all thy sighs and thy groans,
For thou art most near Me, My flesh and My bones;
In all thy distress, thy Head knows the pain;
Yet all are most needful, not one is in vain.
“Then trust Me, and fear not, thy life is secure,
My wisdom is perfect, supreme is My power;
In love I correct thee, thy soul to refine,
And cause thee at length in My likeness to shine.
The foolish, the fearful, the weak are My care!
The helpless, the hopeless, I hear their sad prayer;
From all their afflictions, My glory shall spring,
The deeper their sorrows, the louder they’ll sing.