The Christian’s Spiritual Voyage.  Ps. 107. 23-28

R. De Courcy                             148th

Jesus, at thy command
I launch into the deep;
And leave my native land,
Where sin lulls all asleep;
For thee I would the world resign,
And sail to heaven with thee and thine.

Thou art my Pilot wise;
My compass is thy word;
My soul each storm defies,
While I have such a Lord;
I trust thy faithfulness and power,
To save me in the trying hour.

Though rocks and quicksands deep
Through all my passage lie;
Yet Christ will safely keep,
And guide me with his eye;
My anchor, hope, shall firm abide,
And I each boisterous storm outride.

By faith I see the land –
The port of endless rest;
My soul, thy sails expand,
And fly to Jesus’ breast!
O may I reach the heavenly shore
Where winds and waves distress no more.

[Whene’er becalmed I lie;
And storms forbear to toss;
Be thou, dear Lord, still nigh,
Lest I should suffer loss;
For more the treacherous calm I dread,
Than tempests bursting o’er my head.]

Come, Holy Ghost, and blow
A prosperous gale of grace;
Waft me from all below
To heaven, my destined place,
Then, in full sail, my port I’ll find,
And leave the world and sin behind.

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