And were it for thy profit, to obtain <br />All sunshine? No vicissitude of rain? <br />Think'st thou that thy laborious plough requires <br />Not winter frosts as well as summer fires? <br />There must be both: sometimes these hearts of ours <br />Must have the sweet, the seasonable showers <br />Of tears; sometimes the frost of chill despair <br />Makes our desired sunshine seem more fair; <br />Weathers that most oppose the flesh and blood <br />Are such as help to make our harvest good. <br />We may not choose, great God: it is thy task; <br />We know not what to have, nor how to ask<br /><br />Francis Quarles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-change-of-weather/
