BE not much troubled about many things, Fear often hath no whit of substance in it, And lives but just a minute; While from the very snow the wheatblade springs. And light is like a flower, That bursts in full leaf from the darkest hour. And He who made the night, Made, too, the flowery sweetness of the light. Be it thy task, through his good grace, to win it. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: MARSH SONG - AT SUNSET by SIDNEY LANIER THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 52. WILLOWWOOD (4) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE BROOK; AN IDYL: THE BROOK'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON SABBATH MORNING by L. DALE AHERN PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 12. THE CREATOR by EDWIN ARNOLD FRAGMENT OF A CHORUS OF A DEJANEIRA by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE JUDGMENT by KATHARINE LEE BATES |