| Song | The Winds Were Howling O’er The Deep |
| Album | John Wesley’s Collection of Hymns |
| Genre | Traditional Christian Hymns |
| Writer(s) | |
| Music | |
| Key | |
| Tags | The Winds Were Howling O’er The Deep |
| Theme(s) | |
| Scripture Reference(s) | |
| CCLI Song No |
The Winds Were Howling O’er The Deep,
Each Wave A Watery Hill,
The Saviour Wakened From His Sleep,
He Spake, And All Was Still.
The Madman In A Tomb Had Made
His Mansion Of Despair;
Woe To The Traveller Who Strayed
With Heedless Footsteps There!
He Met That Glance So Thrilling Sweet.
He Heard Those Accents Mild,
And, Melting At Messiah’s Feet,
Wept Like A Weaned Child.
O Madder Than The Raving Man!
O Deafer Than The Sea!
How Long The Time Since Christ Began
To Call In Vain On Me?
He Called Me When My Thoughtless Prime
Was Early Ripe To Ill;
I Passed From Folly On To Crime,
And Yet He Called Me Still.
He Called Me In The Time Of Dread
When Death Was Full In View,
I Trembled On My Feverish Bed,
And Rose To Sin Anew.
Yet Could I Hear Him Once Again,
As I Have Heard Of Old,
Methinks He Should Not Call In Vain
His Wanderer To The Fold.
O Thou That Every Thought Canst Know,
And Answer Every Prayer;
O Give Me Sickness, Want, Or Woe,
But Snatch Me From Despair!
My Struggling Will By Grace Control,
Renew My Broken Vow!
That Blessed Light Breaks On My Soul?
O God! I Hear Thee Now.
