1 Sometimes the heart complaineth,
And moans in bitter sighs;
And dreams no hope remaineth,
No more its sun will rise,
And dreams no hope remaineth,
No more its sun will rise.

2 But yet we know God liveth,
And will do all things well;
And that to us he giveth
More good than tongue can tell,
And that to us he giveth
More good than tongue can tell.

3 And though above us linger
Full many a sorrow shroud,
We see Faith's upraised finger
Point far beyond the cloud,
We see Faith's upraised finger
Point far beyond the cloud.