Far across the troubled ocean, I think a light I see.
A green light or is it red a’winking out at me?
Should I swing to starboard or steer my ship to port?
Somewhere in spray dimmed waters is the harbour I now court.
It is not easy to know what’s right from what is mostly wrong.
When I was young and restless, I always had a song.
Where have gone the noble ones our poor country needs?
How discern a good crop from all these thorny weeds?
I wish I had my dear old mum to sit with me anew.
I long to hear my brave old pa singing from his pew.
Oh God please now guide me to my longed for home.
Please grasp my hand, show me your golden throne.
My heart is faint, my eyes are dimmed, my hearings not so good.
I’ve seen so many foreign ports but seldom did the good I should.
I’m so unworthy, I cannot navigate the storm filled way.
I must count on Jesus, His death all my debts did pay.
To Him, for sure I can with confidence now pray.