Adversity, may have
Laid you low;
Bereavement, and calamity,
May have crushed you:
But behold, His love
Is engraved within
Your darkest cloud;
And it breathes,
From the lips of
Your bleeding wound;
Yea, His desparate love,
Bears its reflection,
In every fragment
Of your blighted flower:
Because He is love;
Gently falls the rod,
In its heaviest stroke;
Tenderly pierces the sword,
In its deepest thrust;
And the rainbow,
Brightens the cloud,
In its darkest hues.
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