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Poem by Francis Quarles On Change of Weather And were it for thy profit, to obtain All sunshine? No vicissitude of rain? Think'st thou that thy laborious plough requires Not winter frosts as well as summer fires? There must be both: sometimes these hearts of ours Must have the sweet, the seasonable showers Of tears; sometimes the frost of chill despair Makes our desired sunshine seem more fair; Weathers that most oppose the flesh and blood Are such as help to make our harvest good. We may not choose, great God: it is thy task; We know not what to have, nor how to ask Francis Quarles Francis Quarles's other poems:
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