When the Dark Waves Round Us Roll

When the dark waves round us roll

And we look in vain for aid

Speak

Lord

to the trem­bling soul

It is I; be not afraid.

When we dim­ly trace Thy form

In mys­te­ri­ous clouds ar­rayed

Be the ec­ho of the storm

It is I; be not afraid.

When our bright­est hopes de­part

When our fair­est vi­sions fade

Whisper to the faint­ing heart

It is I; be not afraid.

When we weep be­side the bier

Where some well-loved form is laid

O may then the mourn­er hear

It is I; be not afraid.

When with wear­ing hope­less pain

Sinks the spir­it

sore dis­mayed

Breathe Thou then the com­fort-strain

It is I; be not afraid.

When we feel the end is near

Passing in­to death’s dark shade

May the voice be strong and clear

It is I; be not afraid.