from “A Christmas Sermon” of John Donne:
Though in the ways of fortune,
or understanding, or conscience,
Thou have been benighted till now,
wintered and frozen,
clouded and eclipsed,
damped and benumbed,
smothered and stupefied till now,
Now God comes to thee,
not as in the dawning of the day
not as in the bud of the spring,
But as the sun at noon to illustrate all shadows,
As the sheaves in harvest to fill all penuries.
All occasions invite his mercies,
And all times are his seasons.