If all our life were one broad glare
Of sunlight clear, unclouded:
If all our path were smooth and fair,
By no soft gloom enshrouded;
If all life’s flowers were fully blown
Without the sweet unfolding,
And happiness were rudely thrown
On hands too weak for holding –
Should we not miss the twilight hours,
The gentle haze and sadness?
Should we not long for storms and showers
To break the constant gladness?
If none were sick and none were sad,
What service could we render?
I think if we were always glad
We scarcely could be tender.
Did our beloved never need
Our patient ministration,
Earth would grow cold and miss indeed
Its sweetest consolation:
If sorrow never claimed our heart
And every wish were granted
Patience would die, and hope depart –
Life would be disenchanted.
by Albert Crowell
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Beautiful poem! Happy Sunday Jendi… :~
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