Before us the River is flowing,
In the soft balmy silence of Night,
And o'er it the young Moon is throwing
The beams of her quivering light.
Now in shadow the waters run darkling,
Where the hill rises high o'er the plain;
But soon they are dancing and sparkling
In the light of her glory again.

And what though the breezes bring o'er her
Deep clouds of a lowering hue,
That spread their dark curtain before her,
And hide her sweet face from our view?
Oh! ne'er at her absence repining,
Though shadows and gloom may abound,
Behind them we know she is shining,
By the silver that fringes them round.

Our River of Life is thus flowing
Through a world overshadowed with night,
And, evermore over it glowing,
From above shines a soft blessed light.
Though sometimes the waters run darkling,
While a shadow rests over the soul;
Soon again in its cheerfulness sparkling,
To Eternity's ocean they roll.

And what tho' our Lord should bring o'er us
The deep clouds of sorrow and woe,
Should hang his thick curtain before us,
And onward in darkness we go?
Oh! ne'er at our trials repining,
Though anguish and gloom may abound,
Behind them we know H E is shining,
By the love-light that circles them round.