A perfect storm, as Galilee became a foaming maelstrom,
the boats were spun and tossed like corks,
no more a sluggish doldrum.
And through it all their friend had dozed,
the chaos found him sleeping
while panic reigned, fear took control,
as crashing waves were sweeping.
A desperate cry, 'we perish, Lord',
they shook him to his senses.
Then at a word the storm was stilled
disarming their defences.
Verses 4-5 follow
Tune: ST COLUMBA (Irish); DOMINUS REGIT ME
Metre: 8.7.8.7
Andrew Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 7/6/2012 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England, www.stainer.co.uk.
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