POEM XI. Matthew viii. 25. Lord, save us, we perish
Augustus Montague Toplady
PILOT of the soul, awake,
Save us for thy mercies’ sake;
Now rebuke the angry deep,
Save, O save thy sinking ship!
Stand at the helm, our vessel steer,
Mighty on our side appear;
Saviour, teach us to descry
Where the rocks and quicksands lie.
The waves shall impotently roll,
If thou ‘rt the anchor of the soul:
At thy word the wind shall cease,
Storms be hush’d to perfect peace.
Be thou our haven of retreat,
A rock to fix our wav’ring feet,
Teach us to own thy sovereign sway,
Whom the winds and seas obey.