Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERRelated Topics
Anand Thakur
Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERWe always may be what we might have been.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERLest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERTo listen to Earth’s weary voices Louder every day Bidding her no longer linger
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERDid we not hear The flutter of its wings, and feel it near, And just within our reach? It was.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERHave we not all, amid life’s petty strife
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERI know too well the poison and the sting of things too sweet.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERTake them readily when given, Ready, too, to let them go.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERBut still our place is kept, and it will wait, Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTEROne by one the sands are flowing
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERI do not ask, O Lord, that life may be a pleasant road.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERHours are golden links, God’s token Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERKinds hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERFor when the horse and ass begin to think and argue, adieu to riding and driving.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERWith heaven’s light upon their wings:Every word has its own spirit
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERDreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming,
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER