Advent Sunday

The sky is dark with storm and cloud,
The winds are piping high and loud,
The outer air is dull and chill,
The snow lies heavy on the hill;
Yet there is gladness in the soul,
No clouds or darkness may control;
And on the heart a golden glow
Warmer than summer sunsets know.

God bless the calm and holy cheer
That ushers in the Christian year;
And, whatsoe'er of gloom or shade
Season or sorrow may have made,
Lifts us, with its mysterious power,
Out of the dark and dying hour,
Into the lights which ever play
Round children of th' Eternal Day.

Blest Advent of our ling'ring Lord!
How high the hope, how sure the word,
That thus, with every year's return,
Make our dull hearts within us burn
For that long sought and promised day,
When ' Heaven and Earth shall pass away,'
And Christ from highest Heav'ns shall come,
To take His waiting people home.

Since childhood's early hours, our eyes
Have watch'd the east for reddening skies!
Year after year has Advent brought
Nearer to us the Prize we sought;
But still it lingers O that we
Were more prepared to welcome Thee,
Thine Advent with its angel throng
Would not be tarrying, Lord, so long.