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One time I stood in a valley,
Hemmed in by its walls of stone;
The day was fair on the uplands,
But still in my little zone
The mists and the fogs were heavy,
The silence was dim and lone.


The tree-tops were gaunt as shadows,
And men were like ghosts in gary,
Above were the fair skies hidden,
And the world was shut away
By the bounds of the narrow valley,
Where darkness hindered the day.


But swiftly up to the hilltops
In glory ascended the sun;
It smote through the fog like lances,
And scattered the mist where it hung,
Till lifting, they fled at the splendor
Of morning--the night-watch was done.


So truth may enter the narrows
Shut in by rocks and the night,
And often may wait in the shadows
The cause that is holy and right;
But God is abroad in the darkness,
His morning comes on with its light.