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Faith.
So clouds may gather o'er my tent,
The sun be shrouded from my sight,
The cold wind blow, the night-breeze sigh,
And oft obscure my heavenly light,
Tho' He is there.
The sun be shrouded from my sight,
The cold wind blow, the night-breeze sigh,
And oft obscure my heavenly light,
Tho' He is there.
The storm may darken o'er my tent,
The rain may drench, the tempest beat,
Still I remember that the clouds
Are "dust" of my Redeemer's feet,—
And He is there.
The rain may drench, the tempest beat,
Still I remember that the clouds
Are "dust" of my Redeemer's feet,—
And He is there.
Jerusalem, 1859.
