And the cold rain comes pelting down,
We must not grumble nor complain,
Nor idly say, we hate the rain.
The moisture every plant receives,
And springs a-fresh in flowers and leaves.
Should God forbid the showers to fall,
Nor send us any rain at all,
The ground would all grow hard and dry,
And every living plant would die.
All things would starve and perish then—
No food for birds, nor beasts, nor men;
Then do not murmur, nor complain,
God, in His goodness, sends the rain.
From: The Infant's Delight (20th century, undated)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.