While thunders unceasingly roll
In storms of deep anger and strife;
I hope for some bright ray to beam
From clouds where there yet may be light,
But only the lightning’s red gleam
Is seen through the darkness of night.
3 I try to be humble and meek,
Leave all to my Saviour’s own will;
For, He to the tempest can speak,
The winds will obey and be still;