Thou, solemn Ocean, rollest to the strand Laden with prayers from many a far-off land, To us thy thousand murmurs at our feet One cry repeat. | Through all thy myriad tones that never cease We hear of death and love, the cross and peace, New churches bright with hope and glad with psalms, And martyrs' palms. | Then on! and come whate'er our God sees fit! To yon frail wave-toss'd planks we now commit Our lives, our all, and leave our native land At His command. | 113 We take thee for our chariot, stormy Sea! Borne safely on to serve our God by thee, For thou and we alike obey His word And own Him Lord. | And whether thy chill deeps become our grave, Or far away our blood shall stain thy wave, Or we shall cross with joyous songs thy foam Back to our home: | Be it as He ordains whose name is Love! Whether our lot or life or death shall prove, To Life Eternal surely guides His will, And we are still. | |