Singing in the Storm

Overhead dark clouds had ga­thered

Hiding all the depths of blue;

And the land­scape was o’er­sha­dowed

By their drea­ry lead­en hue;

Echoed loud the peal­ing thun­der

Round my cot­tage bright and warm;

Then a bird voice near the win­dow

Rang out sweet­ly in the storm.

Singing in the storm

sing­ing in the storm

Singing soft­ly in the storm

To a clear bird voice I list­ened

Singing sweet­ly in the storm.

Yes

sweet­ly in the storm.

Safely shel­tered from the tem­pest

In its nest be­side the wall

Sat a lit­tle brown wren sing­ing

Fearing not what might be­fall;

While the rain was fast des­cend­ing

Very close its ti­ny form

’Neath the eaves the wee bird nest­led

Singing swee­tly in the storm.

To my heart I took the les­son

Taught me by that bird so frail

And I said

I have a re­fuge

When the storms of life as­sail;

Trusting in the heav’n­ly Fa­ther

Sheltered ’neath His migh­ty arm

When the tem­pest wild is beat­ing

O

my soul

sing in the storm.

When deep clouds of sor­row ga­ther

E’en amid the shades of death

Resting in di­vine pro­tect­ion

I may have the light of faith;

Well I know my lov­ing Fa­ther

Bane to bless­ing will trans­form

And con­fid­ing in His good­ness

I will sing amid the storm.