The source of joy becometh sad, The sun hath ceas'd to make us glad, And all at once the clouds descend, Shed tears that never seem to end. Ah, child of man! go weep alone, Thy many grievous sins bemoan, Henceforward from thy crimes refrain, Repent, and be thou clean again. Fall on thy knees, thyself now throw On God, that He may mercy show, That His deservèd wrath may be By Him to grace turn'd speedily. He's faithful, and aye true will be, Nought else desireth but that we With reverence and godly fear To seek His mercy should draw near. Ah! Father, Father, hear our cry, Redeem us, 'neath sin's yoke we lie, From out the world drawn may we be, And Thou Thyself turn us to Thee. Subdue Thou our rebellious mood, And make us, sinners, pure and good; Whom Thou dost turn, soon turn'd is he, Who heareth Thee, is heard by Thee! And let Thine eye now friendly be, The anguish'd cry that reacheth Thee From earth, from our sad hearts, O Lord, With gracious ear do Thou regard. Wrath's black robe tear off with Thy hand And comfort Thou us and our land, And may the genial sun shine forth And ripen the fair fruits of earth. And, Lord, as long as we may live Our daily bread in bounty give, And when the end of time we see The bread give of eternity! THANKSGIVING FOR GRACIOUS SUNSHINE. Now gone is all the rain, Rejoice my heart again, Sing after times of sadness To God thy Lord with gladness! Our God His heart hath turnèd Our pray'r He hath not spurnèd. On sea and on our land Outstretchèd was His hand, In anger us addressing; He said, "Ye're aye transgressing, In ways of sin ye wander, Nor ever turn, nor ponder. "So shall my Heaven's light Its countenance so bright With robe of blackness cover, With dark clouds be spread over; No longer shine in glory But shall be weeping o'er thee." Appeas'd His wrath our sighs That to His ears did rise, For He forgetteth never His mercy that dures ever, His Spirit tow'rd us yearning, His anger ceas'd from burning. The clouds away then sped, The path the damp winds tread, From whence the rain descended, Was clos'd, the torrents ended, And from the deeps of Heaven No waters more were given. Now wearied field away Thy robe of sadness lay, Arise from out thy sadness And let us hear with gladness Thee songs of summer raising, Thy great Creator praising. The glorious sun, see there, Comes forth again so fair, With blessings earth doth cover; Now all the rains are over, Hills, valleys are receiving Its wondrous beams life-giving.