I.
Storms gather o'er thy path,
Christian!—the sullen, tempest-darkened sky
Grows lurid with the elemental wrath,—
Say, whither wilt thou fly?
God is my Refuge!—let the tempests come,
They will but speed me sooner to my home!
Storms gather o'er thy path,
Christian!—the sullen, tempest-darkened sky
Grows lurid with the elemental wrath,—
Say, whither wilt thou fly?
God is my Refuge!—let the tempests come,
They will but speed me sooner to my home!