Dark is the night, and cold the wind is blowing, Nearer and nearer comes the breakers’ roar; Where shall I go, or whither fly for refuge? Hide me, my Father, till the storm is o’er.
With His loving hand to guide, let the clouds above me roll, And the billows in their fury dash around me. I can brave the wildest storm, with His glory in my soul, I can sing amidst the tempest—Praise the Lord!
Dark is the night, but cheering is the promise, He will go with me o’er the troubled wave; Safe He will lead me through the pathless waters, Jesus, the mighty One, and strong to save.
Dark is the night, but lo! the day is breaking, Onward my bark, unfurl thy every sail, Now at the helm I see my Father standing, Soon will my anchor drop within the veil.
In Thy cleft, O Rock of Ages, hide Thou me! When the fitful tempest rages, hide Thou me! Where no mortal arm can sever From my heart Thy love forever, Hide me, O Thou Rock of Ages, safe in Thee!
From the snare of sinful pleasure, hide Thou me! Thou, my soul’s eternal Treasure, hide Thou me! When the world its power is wielding, And my heart is almost yielding, Hide me, O Thou Rock of Ages, safe in Thee!
In the lonely night of sorrow, hide Thou me! Till in glory dawns the morrow, hide Thou me! When we’re nearing Jordan’s billow, Let Thy bosom be my pillow; Hide me, O Thou Rock of Ages, safe in Thee!
Thou art my hiding place, O Lord, In Thee I put my trust; Encouraged by Thy holy Word, A feeble child of dust; I have no argument beside, I urge no other plea; And ’tis enough my Savior died, My Savior died for me.
When storms of fierce temptation beat, And furious foes assail, My refuge is the mercy seat, My hope within the veil. From strife of tongues and bitter words My spirit flies to Thee: Joy to my heart the thought affords, My Savior died for me.
’Mid trials heavy to the be borne, When mortal strength is vain, A heart with grief and anguish torn, A body racked with pain, Ah! what could the sufferer rest, Bid every murmur flee, But this, the witness in my breast That Jesus died for me?
And when Thine awful voice commands This body to decay, And life, in its last lingering sands, Is ebbing fast away, Then, though it be in accents weak, And faint and tremblingly, O give me strength in death to speak, “My Savior died for me.”