Hymn

When storms arise

And dark'ning skies

About me threat'ning lower,

To thee, O Lord, I raise mine eyes,

To thee my tortured spirit flies

For solace in that hour.

The mighty arm

Will let no harm

Come near me nor befall me;

Thy voice shall quiet my alarm,

When life's great battle waxeth warm—

No foeman shall appall me.

Upon thy breast

Secure I rest,

From sorrow and vexation;

No more by sinful cares oppressed,

But in thy presence ever blest,

O God of my salvation.