When Winds breathe soft
along the silent Deep,
the Waters curl,
peaceful Billows sleep.

A stronger Gale the troubled Wave awakes,
the surface roughens, 
and the ocean shakes,
more dreadful still,
when furious Storms arise, 
the mounting Billows bellow to the Skies;
on liquid Rocks the tott'ring Vessel's toss'd.

Unnumbered Surges lash the foaming Coast,
the raging Waves, excited by the Blast,
whiten with wrath and split the sturdy Mast.

When in an instant,
he who rules the Floods,
Earth, Air, and Fire,
Jehovah, God of Gods,
in pleasing accents 
speaks his sov'reign Will,
and bids the Waters 
and the Winds be still.

Hush'd are the Winds,
the Waters cease to roar;
safe are the Seas 
and silent as the Shore.

Now, say what Joy elates the Sailor's Breast
with prosp'rous Gale so unexpected blest,
what Ease, what Transport in each Face is seen,
the Heav'ns look bright, the Air and Sea serene,
for ev'ry Plaint we hear a joyful Strain to Him
whose Pow'r unbounded rules the Main.