Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies
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Anand Thakur
Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies
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I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be a pleasant road.
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True or false, that never dies
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Joy is like restless day; but peace divine like quiet night.
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Be strong to hope, O Heart! Though day is bright,
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Do no cheat thy Heart and tell her, ‘Grief will pass away.’
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Take them readily when given, Ready, too, to let them go.
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But still our place is kept, and it will wait, Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.
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I was weary and ill at ease, and my fingers wandered idly over the noisy keys.
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One by one bright gifts from heaven Joys are sent thee here below
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It seemed the harmonious echo from our discordant life.
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Some pure ideal of a noble life That once seemed possible?
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Every word man’s lips have uttered Echoes in God’s skies.
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Dreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming,
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We always may be what we might have been.
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Dreams grow holy put in action.
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