A Stormy Blast

If it was always this pretty, I might not complain (oops, I forgot, I promised not to complain).
Though the rain may fall and the wind be blowing,

and cold and chill is the wintry blast;

Though the cloudy sky is still cloudier growing,

and the dead leaves tell that the summer has passed;

My face I hold to the stormy heaven,

My heart is as calm as the summer sea,

Glad to receive what my God has given,

Whate'er it be.

When I feel the cold, I can say, "He sends it,"

And His winds blow blessing, I surely know;

For I've never a want but that He attends it;

And my heart beats warm,

though the winds may blow.

(Streams in the Desert: Mrs. Charles E, Cowan, November 19)