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Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies

Adelaide Anne Procter

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

Did we not hear The flutter of its wings, and feel it near, And just within our reach? It was.
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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
Hours are golden links, God’s token Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them
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We always may be what we might have been.
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Have we not all, amid life’s petty strife
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Each man has some part to play.
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Acting Each Man Play Some
True or false, that never dies
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To listen to Earth’s weary voices Louder every day Bidding her no longer linger
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Bidding Earth Linger Listen Louder Voie Weary
Have we not all, amid life’s petty strife, / Some pure idea of a noble life / That once seemed possible?
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Lest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.
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Every word man’s lips have uttered Echoes in God’s skies.
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Do not strive to grasp them all.
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But where each flows on unmingling, both are fruitless and in vain.
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I know too well the poison and the sting of things too sweet.
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Some pure ideal of a noble life That once seemed possible?
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Half my life is full of sorrow, Half of joy, still fresh and new
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