“Out of the Depths”

Lost! Lost! Lost!

The cry went up from a sea —

The waves were wild with an awful wrath,

Not a light shone down on the lone ship's path;

The clouds hung low:

Lost! Lost! Lost!

Rose wild from the hearts of the tempest-tossed.

Lost! Lost! Lost!

The cry floated over the waves —

Far over the pitiless waves;

It smote on the dark and it rended the clouds;

The billows below them were weaving white shrouds

Out of the foam of the surge,

And the wind-voices chanted a dirge:

Lost! Lost! Lost!

Wailed wilder the lips of the tempest-tossed.

Lost! Lost! Lost!

Not the sign of a hope was nigh,

In the sea, in the air, or the sky;

And the lifted faces were wan and white,

There was nothing without them but storm and night

And nothing within but fear.

But far to a Father's ear:

Lost! Lost! Lost!

Floated the wail of the tempest-tossed.

Lost! Lost! Lost!

Out of the depths of the sea —

Out of the night and the sea;

And the waves and the winds of the storm were hushed,

And the sky with the gleams of the stars was flushed.

Saved! Saved! Saved!

And a calm and a joyous cry

Floated up through the starry sky,

In the dark — in the storm — “Our Father” is nigh.