from Streams in the Desert, June 12,
“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 lies 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.”