Ho! all ye weary souls that grope
Along this vale of tears,
Your minds ne'er filled with buoyant hope,
But with forboding fears:
Look upward, upward as ye go;
Cease, then, this dull repining;
There's ne'er a cloud, howe'er so dark;
But hath a silver lining.
Ho! all ye weary, mourning ones,
Who wander broken-hearted,
Dissevered long from native homes,
From cherished friends long parted:
Look upward, and these words ye'll see,
In golden letters shining:
There's ne'er a cloud, howe'er so dark,
But hath a silver lining.
And should misfortune's clouds arise,
And dim the light of day,
Or adverse winds blow cold around
Your tenement of clay,
Look upward, where seraphic Hope
Her heavenly wreath is twining—
There's ne'er a cloud, howe'er so dark,
But hath a silver lining.