1 Jesus, at thy command,
I launch into the deep;
And leave my native land,
Where sin lulls all asleep;
For thee I would the world resign,
And sail to Heaven with thee and thine.

2 Thou art my pilot wise;
My compass is thy word:
My soul each storm defies,
While I have such a Lord!
I trust thy faithfulness and power
To save me in the trying hour.

3 Tho' rocks and quicksands deep
Thro' all my passage lie;
Yet Christ will safely keep,
And guide me with his eye;
He bears the world and all things up;
Nor can I sink with such a prop.

4 By faith, I see the land,
The port of endless rest:
My soul, thy sails expand,
And fly to Jesus' breast!
O may I gain the heavenly shore,
Where winds and waves distress no more!

5 Where'er becalm'd I lie,
And storms forbear to toss;
Be thou, dear Lord, still nigh,
Lest I should suffer loss:
For more the treacherous calm I dread,
Than tempests bursting o'er my head.

5 Come, Holy Ghost, and blow
A prosperous gale of grace,
To waft, from all below,
To Heaven, my destin'd place!
Then, in full sail, my port, I'll find,
And leave the world and sin behind.