I WOULD not have thee otherwise,
O cloudy skies;
I would not change the night to day
Nor drive away
The shadows that are hanging o’er
My hearth and door.
There is some good that lurketh where
The lightnings flare;
There is a peace that bideth in
The fiercest din;
A vernal light doth look upon
Fields winter-won.
If God were not the Overheart,
Nor had a part
In all the wounds that hurt us so!
But He doth know
And doth in patience see and bless
In gentleness.
How sturdy and how great, O earth!
Within thy girth
Thou wieldst what passion and what pain
O’er man’s domain;
And yet within thy shadows blest
Is perfect rest.
Turn not unto the light too long
Friend, with thy song!
Thou hast not need to look afar
For hill or star;
Here in the shadow rest is found
Deep and profound.