"Is it raining, little flower?
Be glad of rain;
Too much sun would wither one;
It will shine again.
The clouds are very dark, it's true; But just behind them shines the blue.
Are you weary, tender heart?
Be glad of pain:
In sorrow, sweetest virtues grow, As flowers in rain.
God watches, and you will have sun,
When clouds their perfect work have done."
- Lucy Larcom
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