The Forge of Trouble

What good are storms, if we should fail

To learn how to prepare,

To shelter seek, and walls make strong

That hold, though rain beat long?


And what of pain, and battle wounds,

And plague upon the youth;

Or weary souls, and troubled minds,

Should we to these resign?


Nay! from a trial, strengthen so

A heart in midst of woe,

That after time in furnace blaze

Your mettle prove the day.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The People Yearn

Stewarding

The Capitol City