The clouds, which rise with thunder, slake <br />Our thirsty souls with rain; <br />The blow most dreaded falls to break <br />From off our limbs a chain; <br />And wrongs of man to man but make <br />The love of God more plain. <br />As through the shadowy lens of even <br />The eye looks farthest into heaven <br />On gleams of star and depths of blue <br />The glaring sunshine never knew!<br /><br />John Greenleaf Whittier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-s-well-2/
