The curling waves, with awful roar, a little bark assailed,
And pallid Fear’s distracting power o’er all on board prevailed–
Save one, the captain’s darling child, who fearless viewed the storm,
And, cheerful, with composure smiled at danger’s threatening form.
“And can you smile,” a seaman cried, “while terrors overwhelm?”
“Why should I fear?” the boy replied; “my father’s at the helm!”
So, when our worldly hopes are crushed, our earthly comforts gone,
We still have one sure anchor left — God helps, and He alone.
He to our prayers will lend his ear, he gives our pangs relief;
He turns to smiles each trembling fear, to joy each torturing grief.
Then turn to him, mid terrors wild, when wants and woes o’erwhelm,
Remembering, like the fearless child, our Father’s at the helm!