I learn as the years roll onward
And leave the past behind,
That much I have counted sorrow
but proves our God is kind;
That many a flower I longed for
Has a hidden thorn of pain,
And many a rugged path
Led to fields of ripened grain.

The clouds but cover the sunshine;
They cannot banish the sun.
And the earth shines out the brighter
When the weary rain is done.
We must stand in the deepest sorrow
To see the clearest light,
And often from wrong's own darkness
Comes the very strength of right.

We must live through the weary winter
If we could but 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 and warmest sunshine
Comes after the storm and gloom.