If all our life were one broad glare <br />Of sunlight, clear, unclouded; <br />If all our path were smooth and fair, <br />By no soft gloom enshrouded; <br />If all life's flowers were fully blown <br />Without the sweet unfolding, <br />And happiness were rudely thrown <br />On hands too weak for holding-- <br />Should we not miss the twilight hours, <br />The gentle haze and sadness? <br />Should we not long for storms and showers <br />To break the constant gladness? <br /> <br />If none were sick and none were sad, <br />What service could we render? <br />I think if we were always glad, <br />We scarcely could be tender. <br />Did our beloved never need <br />Our patient ministration, <br />Earth would grow cold and miss indeed <br />Its sweetest consolation; <br />If sorrow never claimed our heart, <br />And every wish were granted, <br />Patience would die, and hope depart-- <br />Life would be disenchanted. <br /> <br />And yet in heaven is no more night, <br />In heaven is no more sorrow! <br />Such unimagined new delight <br />Fresh grace from pain will borrow. <br />As the poor seed that underground <br />Seeks its true life above it, <br />Not knowing what will there be found <br />When sunbeams kiss and love it, <br />So we in darkness upward grow, <br />And look and long for heaven, <br />But cannot picture it below <br />Till more of light be given.<br /><br />Anonymous Americas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-joy-of-incompleteness/
