Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread,
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.
A sunburst of hope came over the despairing company when the touching and comforting strain was ended. It proved a prophecy. The proprietor determined to struggle on a while longer, and soon the mill was running again at full work.
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