Overhead dark clouds had ga­thered,
Hiding all the depths of blue;
And the land­scape was o’er­sha­dowed
By their drea­ry lead­en hue;
Echoed loud the peal­ing thun­der,
Round my cotta­ge bright and warm;
Then a bird voice near the win­dow
Rang out sweet­ly in the storm.

Refrain

Singing in the storm, sing­ing in the storm,
Singing soft­ly in the storm,
To a clear bird voice I list­ened,
Singing sweet­ly in the storm.
Yes, sweet­ly in the storm.

Safely shel­tered from the tem­pest,
In its nest be­side the wall,
Sat a lit­tle brown wren sing­ing,
Fearing not what might be­fall;
While the rain was fast des­cend­ing,
Very close its ti­ny form
’Neath the eaves the wee bird nest­led,
Singing swee­tly in the storm.

Refrain

To my heart I took the les­son
Taught me by that bird so frail,
And I said, I have a re­fuge
When the storms of life as­sail;
Trusting in the heav’n­ly Fa­ther,
Sheltered ’neath His migh­ty arm,
When the tem­pest wild is beat­ing,
O, my soul, sing in the storm.

Refrain

When deep clouds of sor­row ga­ther,
E’en amid the shades of death,
Resting in di­vine pro­tect­ion,
I may have the light of faith;
Well I know my lov­ing Fa­ther,
Bane to bless­ing will trans­form,
And con­fid­ing in His good­ness,
I will sing amid the storm.

Refrain