1 

Sometimes a light surprises

   The Christian while he sings;

It is the Lord who rises

   With healing in His wings;

When comforts are declining,

   He grants the soul again

A season of clear shining,

   To cheer it after rain.

 2 

In holy contemplation

   We sweetly then pursue

The theme of God's salvation,

   And find it ever new;

Set free from present sorrow,

   We cheerfully can say —

E'en let the unknown morrow

   Bring with it what it may.

 3 

It can bring with it nothing,

   But He will bear us through;

Who gives the lilies clothing,

   Will clothe His people too:

Beneath the spreading heavens

   No creature but is fed;

And He, who feeds the ravens,

   Will give His children bread.

 4 

Though vine nor fig tree neither

   Their wonted fruit shall bear;

Though all the fields should wither

   Nor flocks nor herds be there;

Yet God the same abiding,

   His praise shall tune my voice,

For, while in Him confiding,

   I cannot but rejoice.