Hope 
Clara Ann Thompson, 1869--1949

The saddest day will have an eve,
The darkest night, a morn;
Think not, when clouds are thick and dark,
Thy way is too forlorn.

For ev'ry cloud that e'er did rise,
To shade my life's bright way,
And ev'ry weary day,

Will bring three gifts, though'lt value more,
Because they cast so dear;
The soul that faints not in the storm,
Emerges bright and clear. 

Thompson was born a poet, teacher, and 
civil rights advocate.