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It seemed the harmonious echo from our discordant life.

Adelaide Anne Procter

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Bagwalas

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Every word man’s lips have uttered Echoes in God’s skies.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER

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With heaven’s light upon their wings:Every word has its own spirit
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The men are much alarmed by certain speculations about women; and well they may be
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One by one the moments fall; Some are coming, some are going
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Words are mighty, words are living:Serpents with their venomous stings,Or bright angels, crowding round us
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One by one the sands are flowing
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Fall Flowing Moment Sand Time
I know too well the poison and the sting of things too sweet.
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Lest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.
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Dreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming,
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It seemed the harmonious echo from our discordant life.
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See how time makes all grief decay.
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Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies
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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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Hours are golden links, God’s token Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them
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Seated one day at the organ
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