I learn, as the years roll onward     And leave the past behind, That much I had counted sorrow     But proves that God is kind; That many a flower I had longed for     Had hidden a thorn of pain, And many a rugged bypath     Led to fields of ripened grain. The clouds that cover the sunshine     They can not banish the sun; And the earth shines out the brighter     When the weary rain is done. We must stand in the deepest shadow     To see the clearest light; And often thro' wrong's own darkness     Comes the very strength of light. The sweetest rest is at even,     After a wearisome day, When the heavy burden of labor     Has born from our hearts away; And those who have never known sorrow     Can not know the infinite peace That falls on the troubled spirit     When it sees at last release. We must live thro' the dreary winter     If we would value the spring; And the woods must be cold and silent     Before the robins sing. The flowers must be buried in darkness     Before they can bud and bloom, And the sweetest, warmest sunshine     Comes after the storm and gloom. Author Unknown