Lost！ Lost！ Lost！ The cry went up from a sea —— The waves were wild with an awful wrath, Not a light shone down on the lone ship's path； The clouds hung low： Lost！ Lost！ Lost！ Rose wild from the hearts of the tempest-tossed.

    Lost！ Lost！ Lost！ The cry floated over the waves ——Far over the pitiless waves； It smote on the dark and it rended the clouds； The billows below them were weaving white shrouds Out of the foam of the surge, And the wind-voices chanted a dirge： Lost！ Lost！ Lost！ Wailed wilder the lips of the tempest-tossed.

    Lost！ Lost！ Lost！ Not the sign of a hope was nigh, In the sea, in the air, or the sky； And the lifted faces were wan and white, There was nothing without them but storm and night And nothing within but fear. But far to a Father's ear： Lost！ Lost！ Lost！ Floated the wail of the tempest-tossed.

    Lost！ Lost！ Lost！ Out of the depths of the sea ——Out of the night and the sea； And the waves and the winds of the storm were hushed, And the sky with the gleams of the stars was flushed. Saved！ Saved！ Saved！ And a calm and a joyous cry Floated up through the starry sky, In the dark —— in the storm ——"Our Father" is nigh.