As Above the Darkest Storm Cloud

As ab­ove the dark­est storm cloud

Shines the sun

se­rene­ly bright

Waiting to re­store to na­ture

All the glo­ry of his light

So

be­hind each cloud of sor­row

So

in each af­flict­ion

stands

Hid

an an­gel

with a bless­ing

From the Fa­ther in his hand.

As with­out the tem­pest

pour­ing

O’er the earth the wel­come rain

All were but a fruit­less des­ert

Barren sand for rip­en­ing grain

So if ne’er a cloud of sad­ness

Veiled the sun­shine of the soul

If af­flict­ion’s waves were nev­er

Suffered o’er the heart to roll.

Love and faith might fail for­ev­er

To bring forth their fruits of peace;

Heaven’s good seed of truth would per­ish

In a thor­ny wil­der­ness.

So

with cloud and storm and tem­pest

Grows our earth­ly sum­mer dim

That the re­bel heart

our Fa­ther

Thus may win to turn to Him.