Verse 1
Oh, where is He that trod the sea?
Oh, where is He that spake?_
And demons from their victims flee,
The dead their slumbers break;
The palsied rise in freedom strong,
The dumb men talk and sing,
And from blind eyes, benighted long,
Bright beams of morning spring.
Verse 2
Oh, where is He that trod the sea?
Oh, where is He that spake?_
And piercing words of liberty
The deaf ears open shake;
And mildest words arrest the haste
Of fever’s deadly fire,
And strong ones heal the weak
who waste
Their life in sad desire.
Verse 3
Oh, where is He that trod the sea?
My soul, the Lord is here:
Let all thy fears be hushed in thee;
To leap, to look, to hear
Be thine; thy needs He’ll satisfy:
Art thou diseased or dumb?
Or dost thou in thy hunger cry?
“I come, saith Christ, “I come.”
T.T. Lynch