Scripture Verse

He got up, rebuked the wind, and said to the waves, Quiet! Be still! Mark 4:39

Introduction

Words: Ed­ward Hop­per, in The Sail­or’s Ma­ga­zine (1871) and The Bap­tist Praise Book (1871). The nau­ti­cal theme re­flects Hop­per’s min­is­try at the Church of the Sea and Land in New York Ci­ty, where he met sail­ors from around the world.

Music: Pi­lot John E. Gould, 1871 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tune:

If you know where to get a good pho­to of Hop­per (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els), or a bet­ter one of Gould,

portrait
John E. Gould (1821–1875)

Anecdote

Major D. W. Whi­ttle told me the fol­low­ing in­ci­dent in con­nec­tion with this hymn:

I went with Ge­ne­ral O. O. Howard to hold meet­ings for the sol­diers at Tam­pa, Flo­ri­da, and one day while go­ing through the camp I found a young man dy­ing of fe­ver.

I knelt by his side and asked him if he was a Chris­tian. He re­plied that he was not, but said that his fa­ther and mother were Chris­tians; and he asked me to pray for him.

I did so, but no deep im­press­ion was made up­on his heart. I went away with a sor­row­ing heart and pro­mised to re­turn an­oth­er day.

Two days lat­er I vi­sit­ed him again and, pray­ing with him, the Lord put in­to my mind to sing, Je­sus, Sav­iour, pi­lot me.

The dy­ing sol­dier said: Oh, that sounds good; it puts me in mind of my be­lov­ed sis­ter in Mi­chi­gan, who used to sing this hymn for me be­fore I en­tered the ar­my.

He want­ed me to re­peat it ov­er and ov­er again for him, and fin­al­ly he asked: Will Je­sus be my pi­lot into the ha­ven of rest? I told the young man that Je­sus would.

Then, he said, I will trust him with all my heart. The next day I called to see him again, but his com­rade said: He passed away dur­ing the night.

Sankey, p. 185

Lyrics

Jesus, Sav­ior, pi­lot me
Over life’s tem­pes­tu­ous sea;
Unknown waves be­fore me roll,
Hiding rock and trea­che­rous shoal.
Chart and com­pass come from Thee;
Jesus, Sav­ior, pi­lot me.

While th’apos­tles’ fra­gile bark
Struggled with the bil­lows dark,
On the stor­my Ga­li­lee,
Thou didst walk up­on the sea;
And when they be­held Thy form,
Safe they glid­ed through the storm.

Though the sea be smooth and bright,
Sparkling with the stars of night,
And my ship’s path be ablaze
With the light of hal­cy­on days,
Still I know my need of Thee;
Jesus, Sav­ior, pi­lot me.

When the dark­ling hea­vens frown,
And the wrath­ful winds come down,
And the fierce waves, tossed on high,
Lash them­selves against the sky,
Jesus, Sav­ior, pi­lot me,
Over life’s tem­pes­tu­ous sea.

As a mo­ther stills her child,
Thou canst hush the ocean wild;
Boisterous waves ob­ey Thy will,
When Thou say­est to them, Be still!
Wondrous so­ver­eign of the sea,
Jesus, Sav­ior, pi­lot me.

When at last I near the shore,
And the fear­ful break­ers roar
’Twixt me and the peace­ful rest,
Then, while lean­ing on Thy breast,
May I hear Thee say to me,
Fear not, I will pi­lot thee.