Deep to deep incessant calling,
Tossed by furious tempests’ roll,
Endless waves and billows falling,
Overwhelm my fainting soul.
Yet I see a power presiding
Mid the tumult of the storm,
Ever ruling, ever guiding,
Love’s intentions to perform.
Yes, mid sorrows most distressing,
Faith contemplates thy design
Humbly bowing, and confessing
All the waves and billows Thine.
God of my life, vouchsafe thy gracious presence, command thy loving kindness that so neither the world, the flesh, nor Satan may prevent my enjoyment of it. Fill my heart with gratitude, my lips with praise. Pour upon me the Spirit of grace and of supplication that I may draw near to thee in humble, fervent, and effectual prayer… [P]reparing me again to worship thee with thy people on earth or with thy saints in glory everlasting. These blessings I would earnestly beg in the name of thy dear Son, Jesus Christ, my Lord. Amen.
Henry March, 1824