Fierce was the billow wild, dark was the night;
oars labored heavily, foam glimmered white.
Trembled the mariners, peril was nigh;
then said the God of God, "Peace: it is I."
Ridge of the mountain wave, lower thy crest;
wail of the tempest wind, be thou at rest.
Sorrow can never be, darkness must fly,
where saith the Light of light, "Peace: it is I."
Jesus, Deliverer, come thou to me;
soothe thou my voyaging over life's sea;
thou, when the storm of death roars sweeping by,
whisper, O Truth of truth, "Peace: it is I."