O troubled sea of Galilee, When run thy billows high, And through thy dreaded storms I see That pain and death are nigh; O when thy threatening clouds appear And floods impending chill, Through surge and tempest may I hear A voice say, ?Peace, be still.? O storied sea of Galilee, Through all the changing years, Thy stress is type of storms to be And sign of rising fears; Thy tempests drive our hopes across The floods of human ill; The conquest o'er all pain and loss Is in thy ?Peace, be still.? Thou vaster sea than Galilee, Where may I look for peace? What wondrous power commanding thee Can cause thy winds to cease? Praise God! that o'er all surging tides There broods His sovereign will; That in each inmost soul abides His conquering ?Peace, be still.?