1 The darkened sky, how thick it lowers!
Troubled with storms, and big with showers,
No cheerful gleam of light appears,
But nature pours forth all her tears.
2 Yet let the sons of grace revive;
He bids the soul that seeks him, live;
And from the gloomiest shade of night
Calls forth a morning of delight.
3 The seeds of ecstasy unknown
Are in these watered furrows sown;
See the green blades, how thick they rise,
And with fresh verdure bless our eyes!
4 In secret foldings they contain
Unnumbered ears of golden grain;
And heaven shall pour its beams around,
Till the ripe harvest load the ground.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #622