Classic Poem

When God reveal'd his gracious name,
And chang'd my mournful state,
My rapture seem'd a pleasant dream,
The grace appear'd so great.

The world beheld the glorious change,
And did thy hand confess;
My tongue broke out in unknown strains,
And sung surprising grace.

“Great is the work,” my neighbors cried,
And own'd thy pow'r divine;
“Great is the work,” my heart repli'd,
“And be the glory thine.”

The Lord can clear the darkest skies,
Can give us day for night;
Make drops of sacred sorrow rise
To rivers of delight.

Let those that sow in sadness wait,
'Till the fair harvest come;
They shall confess their sheaves are great,
And shout the blessings home.

Though seed lie buried long in dust,
It shan't deceive their hope;
The precious grain can ne'er be lost,
For grace insures the crop.