A delicate child, pale and prematurely wise, was complaining on a hot
morning that the poor dewdrops had been too hastily snatched away and
not allowed to glitter on the flowers like other happier dewdrops that
live the whole night through and sparkle in the moonlight, and through
the morning onwards to noonday: "The sun," said the child, "has chased
them away with his heat--or swallowed them in his wrath." Soon after
came rain and a rainbow; whereupon his father pointed upwards: "See,"
said he, "there stand thy dew-drops gloriously re-set--a glittering
jewelry--in the heavens; and the clownish foot tramples on them no
more. By this, my child, thou art taught that what withers upon earth
blooms again in heaven." Thus the father spoke, and knew not that he
spoke prefiguring words: for soon after the delicate child, with the
morning brightness of his early wisdom, was exhaled, like a dewdrop,
into heaven.