be glad of the rain...

It is raining, little flower?
Be glad of the rain;
Too much sun would wither thee.
’Twill shine again.
The sky is very black, ’tis true,
But just behind it shines the blue.

Art thou weary, tender heart?
Be glad of pain;
In sorrow sweetest things will grow
As flowers in rain.
God watches; and thou wilt have the sun
When clouds their perfect work have done.

--Lucy Larcom