Oh Where Is He That Trod The Sea ?
Oh Where Is He That Spake,
And Demons From Their Victims Flee,
The Dead Their Slumber Break ?
The Palsied Rise In Freedom Strong,
The Dumb Men Talk And Sing,
And From Blind Eyes, Benighted Long,
Bright Beams Of Morning Spring.

Oh Where Is He That Trod The Sea ?
‘Tis Only He Can Save ;
To Thousands Hungering Wearily Made,
A Wondrous Meal He Gave :
The Word, Who All The Worlds Had
To His Own Creatures Spake;
‘Twas Spring-Tide When He Blest The Bread,
And Harvest When He Brake.

Oh Where Is He That Trod The Sea ?
My Soul, The Lord Is Here !
Let All Thy Fears Be Hushed In Thee,
Be Thine To Know Him Near
Thy Utmost Needs He’ll Satisfy:
Art Thou Diseased Or Dumb,
Or Dost Thou In Thy Hunger Cry ?
I Come, Saith Christ, I Come !