4 But the wonder-working Lord
Soothes the tempest by his word ;
Stills the thunder, stops the rain,
And his sun breaks forth again :
Soon the cloud again returns,
Now he joys, and now he mourns ;
Oft his sky is overcast
Ere the day of life be past.
5 Tried believers too can say,
In the course of one short day,
Though the morning has been fair,
Proved a golden hour of pray r,
Sin and Satan, long ere night,
Have their comforts put to flight ;
Ah ! what heart-felt peace and joy
Unexpected storms destroy !
6 Dearest Saviour, call us soon
To thy high eternal noon ;
Never there shall tempest rise,
To conceal thee from our eyes :
Satan shall no more deceive,
We no more thy Spirit grieve ;
But, through cloudless, endless days,
Sound to golden harps thy praise.
35.
Hay-time.
1 THE grass and flow rs which clothe the field,
And look so green and gay,
Touch d by the scythe, defenceless yield,
And fall and fade away.
2 Fit emblem of our mortal state !
Thus, in the Scripture glass,
The young, the strong, the wise, the great,
May see themselves but grass,
3 Ah ! trust not to your fleeting breath,
Nor call your time your own ;
Around you see the scythe of death
Is mowing thousands down.
