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Poem by John Newton The Disciples at Sea Constrained by their Lord to embark, And venture, without him, to sea; The season tempestuous and dark, How grieved the disciples must be! But though he remained on the shore, He spent the night for them in prayer; They still were as safe as before, And equally under his care. They strove, though in vain, for a while, The force of the waves to withstand; But when they were wearied with toil, They saw their dear Saviour at hand: They gladly received him on board, His presence their spirits revived; The sea became calm at his word, And soon at their port they arrived. We, like the disciples, are tossed By storms, on a perilous deep; But cannot be possibly lost, For Jesus has charge of the ship: Though billows and winds are enraged, And threaten to make us their sport; This pilot his word has engaged To bring us, in safety, to port. If sometimes we struggle alone, And he is withdrawn from our view; It makes us more willing to own, We nothing, without him, can do: Then Satan our hopes would assail, But Jesus is still within call; And when our poor efforts quite fail, He comes in good time and does all. Yet, Lord, we are ready to shrink. Unless we thy presence perceive; O save us (we cry) or we sink, We would, but we cannot believe The night has been long and severe, The winds and the seas are still high; Dear Saviour, this moment appear, And say to our souls, It is I! John Newton John Newton's other poems:
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