My Anchor Holds

Though 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.

And it holds, my anchor holds!
Blow your wildest, then, O gale,
On my bark so small and frail:
By His grace I shall not fail,
For my anchor holds, it firmly holds,
My anchor holds.

I can feel the anchor fast
As I meet each sudden blast,
And the cable, though unseen,
Bears the heavy strain between;
Through the storm I safely ride
Till the turning of the tide.

And it holds, etc.

W. C. Martin
Daniel B. Towner