Our Highest Joys Succeed Our Griefs

Our high­est joys suc­ceed our griefs

And peace is born of pain;

Smiles fol­low bit­ter blind­ing tears

As sun­shine fol­lows rain.

We gain our rest through wea­ri­ness

From bit­ter draw the sweet:

Strength comes from weak­ness

hope from fear

And vic­to­ry from de­feat.

We reap where we have sown the seed;

Gain is the fruit of loss;

Life springs from death and

at the end

The crown suc­ceeds the cross.