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1 Jesus, at Thy command, I launch into the deep; And leave my native land, Where sin lulls all asleep; For Thee I would the world resign, And sail to heaven with Thee and Thine. 2 Thou art my Pilot wise; My compass is Thy Word; My soul each storm defies, While I have such a Lord; I trust Thy faithfulness and power, To save me in the trying hour. 3 Though rocks and quicksands deep, Through all my passage lie; Yet Christ will safely keep, And guide me with His eye; My anchor, hope, shall firm abide, And I each boisterous storm outride. 4 By faith I see the land— The port of endless rest; My soul, thy sails expand, And fly to Jesus’ breast! O may I reach the heavenly shore, Where winds and waves distress no more. 5 Whene’er becalmed I lie, And storms forbear to toss, Be Thou, dear Lord, still nigh, Lest I should suffer loss; For more the treacherous calm I dread, Than tempests bursting o’er my head. 6 Come, Holy Ghost, and blow, A prosperous gale of grace; Waft me from all below, To heaven, my destined place, Then, in full sail, my port I’ll find, And leave the world and sin behind.