8.7.8.7.8.7. sung to Stanford 1 WHY those fears! Behold 'tis Jesus Holds the helm, and guides the ship; Spread the sails, and catch the breezes Sent to waft us through the deep, To the regions Where the mourners cease to weep. 2 Though the shore we hope to land on, Only by report is known, Yet we freely all abandon, Led by that report alone, And with Jesus, Through the trackless deep move on. 3 Led by faith, we brave the ocean; Led by faith, the storm defy; Calm amidst tumultuous motion, Knowing that the Lord is nigh: Waves obey Him, And the storms before Him fly. 4 Rendered safe by His protection, We shall pass the watery waste, Trusting to His wise direction We shall gain the port at last; And with wonder Think on toils and dangers past. 5 Oh, what pleasures there await us! There the tempests cease to roar: There it is that those who hate us Can molest our peace no more: Trouble ceases On that tranquil, happy shore. | Alternative tunes (8.7.8.7.8.7.)
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