Through the black night and driving rain A ship is struggling, all in vain, To live upon the stormy main;-- Miserere Domine!

I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be a pleasant road.

Do no cheat thy Heart and tell her, 'Grief will pass away.'

Dreams grow holy put in action

Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill at ease, and my fingers wandered idly over the noisy keys. It seemed the harmonious echo from our discordant life.

Tell her, if you wiil, that sorrow / Need not come in vain; / Tell her that the lesson taught her / Far outweighs the pain.