O Zion, Afflicted with Wave upon Wave

O Zion

af­flict­ed with wave up­on wave

Whom no mor­tal pow­er can suc­cor or save;

With sick­ness sur­round­ed

by ter­rors dis­mayed

In toil­ing and watch­ing

thy strength is de­cayed.

Thy ene­mies are ma­ny

thy o’er­whelm

But thy bless­èd pi­lot

He 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 kind­ness thou doubts of

My pro­mise denies;

Yet still I am with thee

My pro­mise shall stand

Through toss­ing and tem­pest

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.

“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 dis­tress

thy Head knows the pain;

Yet all are most need­ful

not one is in vain.

“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 fool­ish

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.