Kinds hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERRelated Topics
Anand Thakur
Kinds hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERBut still our place is kept, and it will wait, Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERDo not look at life’s long sorrow; see how small each moment’s pain.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERHours are golden links, God’s token Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERAnd yet We lost it in this daily jar and fret, And now live idle in a vague regret
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERThe men are much alarmed by certain speculations about women; and well they may be
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERHark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTEROne by one bright gifts from heaven Joys are sent thee here below
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERWords are mighty, words are living:Serpents with their venomous stings,Or bright angels, crowding round us
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERNo star is lost once we have seen
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERBe strong to hope, O Heart! Though day is bright,
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERThe stars can only shine In the dark night.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERDid we not hear The flutter of its wings, and feel it near, And just within our reach? It was.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERTake them readily when given, Ready, too, to let them go.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERSome pure ideal of a noble life That once seemed possible?
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERWe always may be what we might have been.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER