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Kinds hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.

Adelaide Anne Procter

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We always may be what we might have been.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER

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Kinds hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.
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True or false, that never dies
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Seated one day at the organ
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It seemed the harmonious echo from our discordant life.
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But still our place is kept, and it will wait, Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.
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Dreams grow holy put in action.
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Take them readily when given, Ready, too, to let them go.
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The stars can only shine In the dark night.
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Half my life is full of sorrow, Half of joy, still fresh and new
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Each man has some part to play.
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Acting Each Man Play Some
One by one the sands are flowing
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Fall Flowing Moment Sand Time
With heaven’s light upon their wings:Every word has its own spirit
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Joy is like restless day; but peace divine like quiet night.
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Day Divine Light Night Peace Perfect Quiet Restless
Dreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming,
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Do not strive to grasp them all.
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