SUNSHINE ON THE HILL
93
SUNSHINE ON THE HILL
In the low-land where the shadows Gather at the close of day; When the sky in all its beauty Turns from blue to sombre grey,—Voices of the day are ceasing, Plaintively the night-birds trill,—In the distance, like a halo— Lo! the sun shines on the hill!
When, like Wings of Night unfolded Sorrow casts its chilling shade; Causing all our joy to vanish And our cherished hopes to fade—When Oppressions hand shall smite us With a wrath that bodeth ill—Look beyond the vale's dark shadows To the sunshine on the hill!
Like a whispered benediction From the Realm of Light, so blest; Steals those sacred words, in accents Sweet: "And I will give thee rest."—
