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Fierce was the billow wild,
dark was the night;
oars labored heavily,
foam glimmered white.
Trembled the mariners;
peril was nigh:
then said the God of God,
"Peace: it is I."
Ridge of the mountain wave,
lower thy crest;
wail of the tempest wind,
be thou at rest.
Sorrow can never be,
darkness must fly,
where saith the Light of light,
"Peace: it is I."
Jesus, Deliverer,
come thou to me;
soothe thou my voyaging
over life's sea;
thou, when the storm of death
roars sweeping by,
whisper, O Truth of truth,
"Peace: it is I."