WHEN storms arise
And dark'ning skies
About me threat'ning lower,
To thee, O Lord, I raise mine eyes,
To thee my tortured spirit flies
For solace in that hour.
Thy mighty arm
Will let no harm
Come near me nor befall me;
Thy voice shall quiet my alarm,
When life's great battle waxeth warm--
No foeman shall appall me.
Upon thy breast
Secure I rest,
From sorrow and vexation;
No more by sinful cares oppressed,
but in thy presence ever blest,
O God of my salvation.
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