DE PROFUNDIS

WARWICK JAMES PRICE.

FROM stormy deeps men cry to Thee for aid,
Their suppliant pleadings lost in ocean's roar,
Trembling and cowering, belittled, sore afraid,
Hearing God's anger in the sea at war.

Far fitter were it, in midsummer's calm,
When storms are still, and waves lie lulled in sleep,
And peace has spread old ocean's breast with balm,
To think again how Jesus hushed the deep.