Storms Are My Choosing

Blow, winter wind outside my door,
I only love my hearthstone more
For storms are not my choosing.

But how could trees their fruitage bear,
Or summertime its glory wear,
If storms their sting were losing?

If God in love sends snow and rain,
If my life needs its toil and pain,
With Him -- storms are my choosing.

--  Clara M. Krag


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