1 The darken'd sky, how thick it low'rs!
Troubl'd with storms, and big with show'rs,
No cheerful gleam of light appears,
But nature pours forth all her tears.

2 Yet let the sons of grace revive:
God bids the soul that seeks him, live;
And from the gloomiest shade of night
Calls forth a morning of delight.

3 The seeds of ecstasy unknown
Are in these water'd furrows sown.
See the green blades, how thick they rise,
And with fresh verdure bless our eyes!

4 In secret foldings they contain
Unnumber'd ears of golden grain;
And heav'n shall pour its beams around,
Till the ripe harvest load the ground.

5 Then shall the trembling mourner come,
And bind his sheaves and bring them home;
The voice long broke with sighs, shall sing,
Till heav'n with hallelujahs ring.