The clouds have banked the sky with grey;
The wind is blowing strong;
A July day, upon the way
The dust is rolled along.
But let the storm clouds frown upon
My sorrow and my pain;
Let the wind blow high,
The rain draw nigh
So long as I
Am a child of the storm and rain.
The tears are falling from the sky.
And yet, outside to-day
From way up high, where white clouds cry
The sunbeams thread the way.
Do not grieve when you see me weep;
I can be happy too,
But the storm clouds bring
On memories wing
The rush and sting
That awakens my thoughts of you.
– July 1929 –