My Daddy could sing. His voice was as warm and comforting as the man who sang this song on the record we played at Christmas time. Daddy never sang a solo anywhere that I recall. His concerts were just for the family.
Soft as the voice of an angel,
Breathing a lesson unheard,
Hope with a gentle persuasion
Whispers her comforting word:
Wait till the darkness is over,
Wait till the tempest is done,
Hope for the sunshine tomorrow,
After the shower is gone.
- Whispering hope, oh, how welcome thy voice,
Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice.
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