Master, the tempest is raging!
                                        
                                        The billows are tossing high!
                                        
                                        The sky is o’ershadowed with blackness,
                                        
                                        No shelter or help is nigh;
                                        
                                        Carest Thou not that we perish?
                                        
                                        How canst Thou lie asleep,
                                        
                                        When each moment so madly is threatening
                                        
                                        A grave in the angry deep?