Written in the Great Storm, 1822

When the storm’s increasing roar, In the fearful hour of night, And the blast that rives my door Start the sleepers with affright;

While the fierce descending rain And the warring winds of heaven All embattled rush amain On my fragile window driven;

I, for those who bide this pelting, Breathe a prayer of charity, And, my soul with pity melting, Heavenly Father, call on Thee.