1 Father, my feeble faith takes hold
On that strong hand of Thine;
And feels its grasp her own enfold,
Imparting strength divine;
And sings her cheerful song at ease,
While leaning hard on Thee,—
“Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace
Whose mind is stayed on Thee”

2 As Jesus calmly lay at rest
On storm-tossed Galilee,
And slept, as ere on Mary’s breast,
He slept in infancy;
My soul shall find from care release,
However rough the sea,—
“Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace
Whose mind is stayed on Thee”

3 The bark once tossed from crest to crest
In long, unequal strife,
Shall bear my buoyant on the breast
Of seas that sought my life;
And He who bade the tumult cease,
Shall hear my song of glee,—
“Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace
Whose mind is stayed on Thee”