No, Heart, I would not call thee back again;
No, no; too much of suffering has thou known;
But yet, but yet, it was not all in vain-
Thy unseen tears, thy solitary moan!For out of sorrow joy comes uppermost;
Where breaks the thunder soon the sky smiles blue;
A better love replaces what is lost,
And phantom sunlight pales before the true!The seed must burst before the germ unfolds,
The stars must fade before the morning wakes;
Down in her depths the mine the diamond holds;
A new heart pulses when the old heart breaks.And now, Humanity, I turn to you;
I consecrate my service to the world!
Perish the old love, welcome to the new-
Broad as the space-aisles where the stars are whirled!
Voltairine de Cleyre: The Burial of My Past Self (second half), 1885 (via thinksquad)