S. M. Montgomery. The Bow in the Cloud. |
1 Out of the depths of woe, To Thee, O Lord, I cry; Darkness surrounds Thee, but I know That Thou art ever nigh. 2 Like them whose longing eyes Watch till the morning star, Though late and seen through tempests, rise, Heaven's portals to unbar, -- 3 Like them I watch and pray; And though it tarry long, Catch the first gleam of welcome day Then burst into a song. 4 Glory to God above! The waters soon will cease; For lo, the swift returning dove Brings home the sign of peace. 5 Though storms Thy face obscure, And dangers threaten loud, Thy holy covenant is sure; Thy bow is in the cloud!
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