Thy way is on the deep, O Lord!

E’en there we’ll go with Thee;

We’ll meet the tempest at Thy word,

And walk upon the sea.

Poor tremblers at His rougher wind,

Why do we doubt Him so?

Who gives the storms a path will find

The way our feet shall go.

A moment may His hand seem lost,

Drear moment of delay;—

We cry, “Lord, help the tempest-tost!”

And safe we’re borne away.

O happy soul, of faith divine!

Thy victory how sure!

The love that kindles joy is thine,

The patience to endure.