[Storms may obscure, but cannot quench the sun]

Storms may obscure, but cannot quench the sun
    Thunders may drown the music of the rills
But the rills tinkle ever as they run; –
    The human heart may faint with human ills 
And deeply smothered,  beat with muffled tone
But living goodness triumpheth along,
    Sun-like above the darkness, and fulfills
Its God-sent mission, bearing from the strife
Of waring wants, the hearts, into divinest life.