In every cloud that brings us rain.
There is a rainbow in the sky,
It spans the arch where tempests trod;
God wrote it ere the world was dry—
It is the Autograph of God.
Up where the heavy thunders rolled,
Where clouds on fire were swept along,
The sun rides in a car of gold,
And soaring larks dissolve in song.
The rills that gush from mountains rude,