And yet We lost it in this daily jar and fret, And now live idle in a vague regret
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERRelated Topics
Anand Thakur
And yet We lost it in this daily jar and fret, And now live idle in a vague regret
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERLest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERWith heaven’s light upon their wings:Every word has its own spirit
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERSome pure ideal of a noble life That once seemed possible?
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTEROne by one bright gifts from heaven Joys are sent thee here below
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERHave we not all, amid life’s petty strife
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERJoy is like restless day; but peace divine like quiet night.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERWords are mighty, words are living:Serpents with their venomous stings,Or bright angels, crowding round us
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERKinds hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERWe always may be what we might have been.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERNo star is ever lost we once have seen, We always may be what we might have been.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTEROn her charm’d way But hasten to her task of beauty Scarcely yet begun.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERFor when the horse and ass begin to think and argue, adieu to riding and driving.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERDo not strive to grasp them all.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERTrue or false, that never dies
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERHalf my life is full of sorrow, Half of joy, still fresh and new
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER