O Troubled Sea of Galilee

O trou­bled sea of Ga­li­lee

When run thy bil­lows high

And through thy dread­ed storms I see

That pain and death are nigh;

O when thy threat­en­ing clouds ap­pear

And floods im­pend­ing chill

Through surge and tem­pest may I hear

A voice say

Peace

be still.

O stor­ied sea of Ga­li­lee

Through all the chang­ing years

Thy stress is type of storms to be

And sign of ris­ing fears;

Thy tem­pests drive our hopes across

The floods of hu­man ill;

The con­quest o’er all pain and loss

Is in thy Peace

be still.

Thou vast­er sea than Ga­li­lee

Where may I look for peace?

What won­drous pow­er com­mand­ing thee

Can cause thy winds to cease?

Praise God! that o’er all surg­ing tides

There broods His sov­er­eign will;

That in each in­most soul ab­ides

His con­quer­ing Peace

be still.