1 Soul, with all thine anguish,
Wait on the Lord,
Nor in sorrow languish;
He will help afford.
Have thou no fear,
Morning draweth near,
And, the winter leaving,
Springtime will appear.
In storms appalling,
In perils sore,
He will heed thy calling
Forevermore.

2 Soul, with all thine anguish,
Wait on the Lord;
Nor in sorrow languish,
He will help afford.
When all things fail,
Still thou shalt prevail
He in strength surpassing
E'en the strongest gale.
Thou God of power,
Thou Helper true,
When huge billows tower,
Help Thou me through.