March Winds And April Sowers

O'ER meadows strewn with flowers, 

There can't be sunshine every day; 

At times the tempest lowers,

We cannot always have our way.

There's work in life as well as play,

There must be serious hours; 

Cold, blust'ring March winds lead the way

To softer April showers.

And then will come the lovely May, 

That calls to woods and bowers,

When both alike have sped away, 

March winds and April showers.

Hope comes before the sunshine ray,

God gives to each the power 

To struggle bravely on the way,

Through wind and rain and shower.

Then, little children, never fear,

God knows each want of ours, 

And sure as comes the tempest drear,

So surely come the flowers.

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