Verse: The Storm

The tempest rages wild and high, The waves lift up their voice and cry Fierce answers to the angry sky,-- Miserere Domine.

Through the black night and driving rain, A ship is struggling, all in vain To live upon the stormy main;-- Miserere Domine.

The thunders roar, the lightnings glare, Vain is it now to strive or dare; A cry goes up of great despair,-- Miserere Domine.

The stormy voices of the main, The moaning wind, and pelting rain Beat on the nursery window pane:- Miserere Domine.

Warm curtained was the little bed, Soft pillowed was the little head; "The storm will wake the child," they said:- Miserere Domine.

Cowering among his pillows white He prays, his blue eyes dim with fright, "Father, save those at sea to-night!" Miserere Domine.

The morning shone all clear and gay, On a ship at anchor in the bay, And on a little child at play,-- Gloria tibi Domine!