The clouds which rise with thunder slake
Our thirsty souls with rain;
The blow most dreaded falls to break
From off our limbs a chain;
And wrongs of man to man but make
The love of God more plain.
As through the shadowy lens of even
The eye looks farthest into heaven--
On gleams of star and depths of blue
The glaring sunshine never knew.
--John Greenleaf Whittier.