To Yonder Side - R.M. McCheyne

Behind the hills of Naphtali
  The sun went slowly down,

Behind the hills of Naphtali
  The sun went slowly down,
Leaving on mountain, tower, and tree,
  A tinge of golden brown.

The cooling breath of evening woke
  The waves of Galilee,
Till on the shore the waters broke
  In softest melody.

“Now launch the bark,” the Saviour cried,
  The chosen twelve stood by,
“And let us cross to yonder side,
  Where the hills are steep and high.”

Gently the bark o’er the water creeps,
  While the swelling sail they spread,
And the wearied Saviour gently sleeps
  With a pillow ‘neath His head.

On downy bed the world seeks rest –
  Sleep flies the guilty eye –
But he who leans on the Father’s breast
  May sleep when storms are nigh.

But soon the lowering sky grew dark
  O’er Bashan’s rocky brow –
The storm rushed down upon the bark,
  And waves dashed o’er the prow.

The pale disciples trembling spake,
  While yawned the watery grave,
“We perish, Master – Master, wake –
  Carest Thou not to save?”

Calmly He rose with sovereign will,
  And hushed the storm to rest.
“Ye waves,” He whispered, “Peace! be still!”
  They calmed like a pardoned breast.

So have I seen a fearful storm
  O’er wakened sinner roll,
Till Jesus’ voice and Jesus’ form
  Said, “Peace, thou weary soul.”

And now He bends His gentle eye
  His wondering followers o’er,
“Why raise this unbelieving cry?”
  I said, “To yonder shore.”

When first the Saviour wakened me,
  And showed me why He died,
He pointed o’er life’s narrow sea,
  And said, “To yonder Side.”

“I am the ark where Noah dwelt,
  And heard the deluge roar –
No soul can perish that has felt
  My rest – To yonder shore.”

Peaceful and calm the tide of life
  When first I sailed with Thee –
My sins forgiven – no inward strife –
  My breast a glassy sea.

But soon the storm of passion raves –
  My soul is tempest tossed –
Corruptions rise, like angry waves,
  “Help, Master, I am lost!”

“Peace! peace! be still thou raging breast,
  My fulness is for thee” –
The Saviour speaks, and all is rest,
  Like the waves of Galilee.

And now I feel His holy eye
  Upbraids my heart of pride –
“Why raise this unbelieving cry?
  I said, To yonder side.”