He sometimes walks behind the cloud;
And threatening storms His presence shroud;
His light is there; but all unseen,
Because the storm-cloud comes between.
From that dark cloud the bolts descend
The skies to cleave, the earth to rend;
But trusting hearts need not despair;
God guides the bolt; our God is there.
Oh transitory man and blind!
This consolation ever find;
That God, though shut from human view,
Is always present, always true.
As kind and faithful in the night,
As in the day-beam's cheerful light;
As kind and true, when storm-clouds hide,
As when the clouds are swept aside.
— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXXIV.