Many clouds do race to hide Thee -
Of friends and wealth and fame -
And yet through mist of tears I see
Appear Thy Golden Name.
Each time my father, mother, friends
Do loudly claim they did me tend,
I wake from sleep to sweetly hear
That Thou alone didst help me here.
From: Songs of the Soul, by Paramahansa Yogananda. Published by Self Realization Fellowship 3880 San Rafael Avenue, Los Angeles, California. Reproduced with permission of Publishers.