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.