SAILING o'er the mighty ocean,
Plowing through the deep;
On I hasten in His service,
And His hand doth keep.
As I gaze upon the ocean,
View the mighty sea,
Sacred thoughts come back to cheer me,
Of lone Galilee.
Once our blessed Saviour pillowed
There His weary head,
Resting from His faithful service,
By His Father led.
Suddenly the wind arose
Beating high the tide,
And His small band of followers
To their Master cried.
"Master, save us, or we perish,"
This their earnest call,
He arose and stilled the tempest,
Waves and wind did fall.
And 'tis He, who in that vessel
Bade the storm be still,
Holds the reins of all creation
Subject to His will.
So the thought that He is caring
Even now for me,
Gives me confidence to trust Him
Out upon the sea.
Not one evil can befall me
Underneath His eye,
For His ear is ever open
To my every cry. So I ask Him to protect me,
And my loved ones too;
Thus I spread out all before Him,
All His will to do.
So with Him as my Companion
O'er the water's crest,
I can know the joy of leaning
On His loving breast.
All the path that I am treading
He has trod before,
Sure His hand will safely guide me
Onward to the shore.
So I cast on Him my burden,
Roll on Him my care,
Leave myself and all my loved ones
Safely resting there.