Thy works of glo­ry, mighty Lord,
Thy wonders in the deeps,
The sons of courage shall record
Who trade in floating ships.

At Thy command the winds arise,
And swell the towering waves;
The men, astonished, mount the skies,
And sink in gaping graves.

Again they climb the watery hills,
And plunge in deeps again;
Each like a tottering drunkard reels,
And finds his courage vain.

Frighted to hear the tempest roar,
They pant with fluttering breath;
And hopeless of the distant shore
Expect immediate death.

Then to the Lord they raise their cries;
He hears the loud request,
And orders silence through the skies,
And lays the floods to rest.

Sailors rejoice to lose their fears,
And see the storm allayed;
Now to their eyes the port appears;
There let their vows be paid.

’Tis God that brings them safe to land;
Let stupid mortals know
That waves are under His command,
And all the winds that blow.

O that the sons of men would praise
The goodness of the Lord!
And those that see Thy wondrous ways,
Thy wondrous love record!