But still our place is kept, and it will wait, Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERRelated Topics
Anand Thakur
But still our place is kept, and it will wait, Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERHave we not all, amid life’s petty strife, / Some pure idea of a noble life / That once seemed possible?
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERAnd yet We lost it in this daily jar and fret, And now live idle in a vague regret
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERDreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming,
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERWe always may be what we might have been.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERHark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERSome pure ideal of a noble life That once seemed possible?
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERDid we not hear The flutter of its wings, and feel it near, And just within our reach? It was.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERSeated one day at the organ
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERDreams grow holy put in action.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERIt seemed the harmonious echo from our discordant life.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERTrue or false, that never dies
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERFor when the horse and ass begin to think and argue, adieu to riding and driving.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERNo star is lost once we have seen
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTEROne of these lives is a fancy, But the other one is true.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTERTo listen to Earth’s weary voices Louder every day Bidding her no longer linger
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER