Sunken are our landmarks beneath the sea's rim,
And the night is coming on;
The gleam upon the water is shimmering and dim,
And far away is dawn.
Wide is the sky that arches over all—
Wide is the sea. and our fishing boats are small!
Whispers o'er the water from out the dimness roam,
Stars tremble in the sky;
How far off are the hearth-fires, and the pleasantness of home,
The Maker of the stars how nigh!
Wide as the sky is Thy care over all,
For wide is the sea, and our fishing boats how small!
