To listen to Earth’s weary voices Louder every day Bidding her no longer linger
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERRelated Topics
Anand Thakur
To listen to Earth’s weary voices Louder every day Bidding her no longer linger
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
With heaven’s light upon their wings:Every word has its own spirit
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
One by one bright gifts from heaven Joys are sent thee here below
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
One of these lives is a fancy, But the other one is true.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
Kinds hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
Do no cheat thy Heart and tell her, ‘Grief will pass away.’
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
Did we not hear The flutter of its wings, and feel it near, And just within our reach? It was.
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See how time makes all grief decay.
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But where each flows on unmingling, both are fruitless and in vain.
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On her charm’d way But hasten to her task of beauty Scarcely yet begun.
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Be strong, O Heart of mine, Look towards the light!
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
Half my life is full of sorrow, Half of joy, still fresh and new
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
For when the horse and ass begin to think and argue, adieu to riding and driving.
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Take them readily when given, Ready, too, to let them go.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
Joy is like restless day; but peace divine like quiet night.
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Seated one day at the organ
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