You never saw old Galilee
so friendly and so fair.
My mates and I sang merrily
and never had a care,
and never had a care.
Out where the sea runs green and cold
and many fathoms deep,
I called my mates, "Look in the hold!
The Master's gone asleep!
The Master's gone asleep!"
And then the clouds grew grim and black;
there blew an awful gale.
"Heave to, my mates, the mast will crack,
if we don't lower the sail,
if we don't lower the sail!"
The rain poured down, the waves leapt high,
the winds they whipped us round
and tossed us toward the terrible sky
and roared their terrible sound,
and roared their terrible sound.
We roused the Master from his sleep
and called his name in dread:
"Come save us from the awful deep
or we're as good as dead,
or we're as good as dead!"
Then up he stood against the gale,
and told the storm to cease.
Tempestuous wind broke off their wail;
waves calmed and lay at peace,
waves calmed and lay at peace.
So, friends, although the sea be wide
and though your boat be small,
there's naught to fear from time or tide;
the Master's Lord of all,
the Master's Lord of all.
Then sing, my friends, sing merrily;
O sing both bold and brave.
The One who made the surging sea
still rules the wind and wave,
still rules the wind and wave.