When I was chorister in Mr. Moody's Sunday school, on the north side of Chicago, we frequently u'«ed this hymn. On the memorable Sunday night v hen the city was destroyed by fire, and I had made my escape in a small boat out into Lake Michigan, this song came to my mind, and as I sat there watching the city burn I sang:
Nearer and nearer comes the breakers' roar;
Where shall I go, or whither fly for refuge?
Hide me, my Father, till the storm is o'er.”