Classic Poem

Sailing o'er life's uncertain sea,
By counter-currents driven and tossed;
No light to point where havens be;
My track amid the darkness lost:
The toil-drops trembling on my brow;
The shadows thickening everywhere; —
Jesus of Nazareth, be Thou
A Star to guide the wanderer!

When tempests wrack my lonely bark,
And timbers strain, and sails are rent,
And billows howl, and heaven is dark,
And cries are vain, and strength is spent:
Death grappling at my plunging prow —
Destruction moaning in the air; —
Jesus of Nazareth, be Thou
A Star to guide the wanderer!