Again the winds were violent and cold;
They pinned the listing ship between two seas—
Yet in that plight a higher power controlled
The storm: Paul prayed in their adversities.
Prayer turned confusion into joy and cheer.
No man was lost; they reached an alien land,
Were warmed, were fed by the islanders, whose fear
Was vanquished, though a viper pierced Paul's hand.
Imprisoned, caught by error, false belief,
We would be guided, we would be secure.
Oh, may the storms upon our sea be brief—
May prayer enshrine the heart, may faith be pure.
For such assurance may we now confer
With Thee, like Paul, the gracious prisoner.
