993    11s     J. Grant
“O thou afflicted, tossed with tempest.” Isa. 34. 11

1 O Zion, afflicted with wave upon wave,
  Whom no man can comfort, whom no man can save;
  With darkness surrounded, by terrors dismayed,
  In toiling and rowing thy strength is decayed.

2 Loud roaring, the billows now nigh overwhelm;
  But skilful’s the Pilot who sits at the helm;
  His wisdom conducts thee, his power thee defends,
  In safety and quiet thy warfare he ends.

3 “O fearful, O faithless!” in mercy he cries;
  “My promise, my truth, are they light in thy eyes?
  Still, still I am with thee; my promise shall stand;
  Through tempest and tossing, I’ll bring thee to land.

4 “Forget thee I will not, I cannot; thy name
  Engraved on my heart does for ever remain;
  The palms of my hands while I look on I see
  The wounds I receivèd when suffering for thee.

5 [“I feel at my heart all thy sighs and thy groans,
  For thou art most near me, my flesh and my bones;
  In all thy distresses thy Head feels the pain;
  Yet all are most needful; not one is in vain.

6 “Then trust me, and fear not; thy life is secure;
  My wisdom is perfect, supreme is my power;
  In love I correct thee, thy soul to refine,
  To make thee at length in my likeness to shine.”]