Hymns of the Deep

It's clear and cold, and the carillon bells are ringing out songs, as they do every Sunday afternoon here. For some reason the carrilloneur is playing an old ocean hymn my father became familiar with while living in Newfoundland--land of sailors, whalers, and their often grieving families after sea tragedies.

Eternal Father, strong to save
Whose arm doth bind the restless wave,
Who bids the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep--
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee for those in peril on the sea.