O Zion, afflicted with wave upon wave,

Whom no mortal power can succour or save;

With sickness surrounded, by terrors dismayed,

In toiling and watching thy strength is decayed.

Loud roaring and swelling, the billows o’erwhelm,

But skillful’s the Pilot that sits at the helm;

His wisdom conducts thee, His power thee defends,

In safety and quiet thy warfare He ends.

‘O fearful, O faithless!’ in mercy He cries;

‘My promise, my truth are they small in thine eyes?

Still, still I am with thee; My promise shall stand;

Through tempest and tossing, I’ll bring thee to land.

Forget thee I will not, I cannot; thy name

Engraved on My heart doth for ever remain;

The palms of My hands whilst I look on I see

The wounds I received when I suffered for thee.

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,

And cause thee at length in My likeness to shine.

The doubting, the fearful, the weak are My care;

The helpless, the hopeless, I hear their sad prayer;

From all their afflictions My glory shall spring;

The deeper their sorrows, the louder they’ll sing.’

Hymn taken from Sukey Harley by Jane Gilpin