Though the angry surges roll On my tempest-driven soul, I am peaceful, for I know, Wildly though the winds may blow, I’ve an anchor safe and sure, That can evermore endure.
Refrain: And it holds, my anchor holds: Blow your wildest, then, O gale, On my bark so small and frail; By His grace I shall not fail, For my anchor holds, my anchor holds.
Mighty tides about me sweep, Perils lurk within the deep, Angry clouds o’ershade the sky, And the tempest rises high; Still I stand the tempest’s shock, For my anchor grips the rock.
I can feel the anchor fast As I meet each sudden blast, And the cable, though unseen, Bears the heavy strain between; Through the storm I safely ride, Till the turning of the tide.
Troubles almost ’whelm the soul; Griefs like billows o’er me roll; Tempters seek to lure astray; Storms obscure the light of day: But in Christ I can be bold, I’ve an anchor that shall hold.