My Anchor Holds…
Tho’ 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.
Mighty tides about me sweep, Perils lurk within the deep,
Angry clouds o’er-shade 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,
Thro’ the storm I safely ride, Till the turning of the tide.
Trouble 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.
And it holds, my anchor holds. Blow your wildest then oh gale.
On my bark so small and frail. By His grace I shall not fail,
For my anchor holds, my anchor holds.