Overtures

Over every patch of blue sky,
The thundercloud has rolled;
Every peaceful little valley,
Has its desparate scenes
Of tempest and agony;
Every day has its night;
Every life, its death:
Pain and sorrow,
Are as deeply embedded
In His natural order of life,
As are love, and joy;
For God hath set one
Over against the other,
To draw all men unto Him.