Heights
By Longfellow
The heights by great men reached and kept，
Were not attained by sudden flight；
But they，while their companions slept，
Were toiling upward in the night.
Things work out
Because it rains when we wish it wouldn't，
Because men do what they often shouldn't，
Because crops fail，and plans go wrong—
Some of us grumble all day long.
But sometimes，in spite of the care and doubt，
It seems at last that things work out.
Because we lose where we hoped to gain，
Because we suffer a little pain，
Because we must work when we'd like to play—
Some of us whimper along life's way.
But somehow，as the day always follow the night，
Most of our troubles work out all right.
Because we cannot forever smile，
Because we must trudge in the dust awhile，
Some of us whimper that life's all wrong.
But somehow，we live and our sky grows bright，
And everything seems to work out all right.
So bend to your trouble and meet your care，
For the clouds must break，and the sky grows fair.
Let the rain come down，as it must and will.
But keep on working and hoping still.
For in spite of the grumblers who stand about，
Somehow，it seems，all things work out.
