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There's deadly peril in our path Beyond the wrecking blast, A peril that may reach the soul When life's short voyage is past; Send us your Bibles when we go   To dare the whelming wave, Your men of prayer, to teach us how To meet a watery grave.

And, Saviour! thou whose foot sublime The foaming surge did tread, Whose hand the rash disciple drew From darkness and the dead, Oh! be our Ark when floods descend, When thunders shake the spheres, Our Ararat when tempests end, And the green earth appears.