"Shipmates, come, our toils are o'er"

"Shipmates, come, our toils are o'er"

Shipmates, come, our toils are o'er -

Haste to join the gathering throng:

Think of stormy seas no more,

But unite in glorious song:

    Sing the praise of Him who died,

      That our souls might ever be

    Through his mercy sanctified,

      Throughout all eternity.

Sons of Ocean, join the strain -

See! our bethel flag is waving:

He that died and rose again,

Thought our dying souls worth saving.

    Touch the glorious Saviour's lyre,

      Ye who plough the stormy waters,

    Let the strains your souls inspire,

      Mingle with your wives and daughters.

Cast your anchor in the veil,

Safe from storms your bark shall ride -

Haste to furl the flowing sail -

Is this haven save abide.

    Shipmates, on this happy shore

      Friends are waiting to receive us -

    Christ hath opened wide the door -

      Jesus never can deceive us!

Soon our voyage of life shall end,

All our sorrows soon be o'er:

Then shall He, our chosen friend,

Welcome us to Caanan's shore.

    With cherubim and seraphim,

      And saints and angels, we shall raise

    In one melodious strain to Him,

      Our songs of everlasting praise!

Unattributed

1:33, p. 4

1837.08.19

From the Weekly Messenger: "written for the occasion of the last anniversary of the Female Bethel Union, but owning to previous arrangements was omitted in the order of the exercises"