O Lord, be this our vessel now

A worthy temple unto Thee,

Though none may hear its bells but Thou

And this our little company;

Our church's roof, yon mighty dome,

Shall ring with hymns we learnt at home,

Our floor the boundless tossing wave,

Our field, our path, perchance our grave.

Where shall we aid and comfort find

With toils and perils all around?

Command, O mighty God, the wind

To bear us whither we are bound,

Oh bring us to our home once more

From weary wanderings safe to shore;

And those who follow us with prayer

Keep Thou in Thy most tender care.

And as the needle while we rove,

To one point still is true and just,

So let our hope and faith and love

Be fix'd on One in whom we trust;

His word is mighty still to save,

He still can walk the stormiest wave,

And hold His followers with His hand,

For His are heaven and sea and land.