Beklag es nicht, wenn oft mit Beben
ein Sturm uns durch die Seele braust;
denn welkes und gesundes Leben
das scheidet seine starke Faust.

Wie in den grünen Blättern allen
im sommerreifen Laubgeäst:
was welk in uns, das mag nun fallen,
was grünt, hält auch im Sturme fest.

Karl Stieler
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